THE FOUNDERS OF CHARLES CHURCH. 
93 
struggles Plymouth has borne a not uneventful part, and often has 
the old town re-echoed with the note of preparation, and afterwards 
rejoiced with the returning victors; but when the seventeenth century- 
opened that dream had passed away, and instead of continually 
brooding over fresh modes of attacking our hereditary foe, attention 
had been drawn to developing our home resources and trade. With 
hesitating steps, but still steps in the right direction — though they 
little thought or knew the momentous outcome that was approach- 
ing — our forefathers had begun to tread the path of commercial 
greatness, fraught with inestimable blessings to the world, and 
destined in after years to redound to the unexampled prosperity of 
our own land. 
The Royal Navy of England was originally almost, if not quite, 
blended with the mercantile marine. During the sixteenth century 
the distinction was drawn. Ships used for commercial purposes 
could not readily in time of war be converted into ships of the 
line ; yet even after the time which is our resting-point we find 
Colonel and Admiral Elake compassing his splendid deeds, and 
General Monk in command of the channel squadron issuing 
orders for the fleet to wheel to the right. But with the develop- 
ment of our navy Plymouth was very closely connected. She had 
fostered the first efforts of Hawkins, Effingham, and Drake, and 
had been ever ready to receive and honour them as burgesses in 
peace, and to follow their path of victory, or the reverse, in time of 
war. She had lost one of her chiefest sons in the battle with the 
Armada; she had welcomed with becoming reverence that grand 
Armada motto of Queen Elizabeth, ascribing the honour of the 
victory to an overruling providence — Afflavit Deus, et dissipantur, 
and for over two centuries the bells of St. Andrew rang a joyous 
peal on the Saturday night preceding the 25th July in honour of 
the victory (a custom which might, I think, without impropriety 
be revived) ; while a few years later she was, imbued with the same 
religious feeling, as a memento of her heroic defence of the 
town on the Parliamentary side, to adopt, probably from the pen of 
the Puritan George Hughes, as a corollary to Queen Elizabeth's 
motto, the equally noble legend to this day borne on the town 
arms — Turris fortissimo, est nomen Jehova. 
Again the scene changed, and Plymouth witnessed with shame 
and humiliation the British fleet hiding in harbour, or skulking 
behind headlands, or having to strike their flag ; while the gallant 
