THE CHILDREN’S HEROES SERIES

  EDITED BY JOHN LANG


  THE STORY OF
  SIR FRANCIS DRAKE




  TO
  CHARLES SUTHERLAND ELTON


[Illustration: Queen Elizabeth knighting Drake on board the ‘Golden
Hind’ at Deptford]


  THE STORY OF

  SIR
  FRANCIS DRAKE

  BY MRS. OLIVER ELTON
  PICTURES BY T. H. ROBINSON

  LONDON: T. C. & E. C. JACK
  NEW YORK: E. P. DUTTON & CO.




  Printed by
  BALLANTYNE, HANSON & CO.
  Edinburgh




PREFACE


It has not been possible, for lack of space, always to tell the old
stories in the original words, which are, in almost all cases, the
best. If any readers of this book can get a sight of two big volumes
called “Drake and the Tudor Navy,” by Julian Corbett, they may
consider themselves fortunate. In them there are the most fascinating
reproductions of pictures of old fighting ships, and old charts or maps
of the taking of Cartagena, St. Domingo, and St. Augustine by Drake’s
ships. Here the ships are seen approaching and attacking; the towns
are shown, and the soldiers, and the seas are full of wonderful curly
monsters. The old charts of the invasion of the Spanish Armada show the
shifting position of the fleets from day to day, and the books also
contain many maps and a fine portrait.




CONTENTS


  Chapter                                        Page

       I. Philip of Spain                          1
      II. “The Troublesome Voyage”                 6
     III. Nombre de Dios                          15
      IV. Fort Diego                              25
       V. The Golden Mule-trains                  29
      VI. Home Again                              39
     VII. Round the World                         50
    VIII. Round the World (_continued_)           60
      IX. Sir Francis                             69
       X. Cadiz                                   81
      XI. The Great Armada                        88
     XII. Expedition to Lisbon                   100
    XIII. The Last Voyage                        111




LIST OF PICTURES


                                                     Page

  Queen Elizabeth knighting Drake on Board the
    _Golden Hind_ at Deptford             _Frontispiece_
  Drake carrying to Court the News of his Voyage      14
  Drake wounded at Nombre de Dios                     22
  The Maroon Chief showing the Atlantic and Pacific
    Oceans from the tree-top                          30
  Sir Francis Drake                                   72
  Drake at the taking of Sagres Castle                84
  Drake at Bowls on Plymouth Hoe                      94
  Fighting the Great Armada                           98




THE STORY OF

SIR FRANCIS DRAKE




CHAPTER I

PHILIP OF SPAIN


During the life of Francis Drake, Philip the Second of Spain was the
most powerful king in Europe. Spain and the Netherlands belonged to
him, parts of Italy, France, and Germany, and a great part of America.
From Mexico, Peru, and the West Indian Islands Spanish ships sailed
home with treasure of silver and gold, as they do in fairy tales, while
Portuguese ships traded in Africa for slaves and gold and ivory, and
had even ventured as far as the then little-known East Indies. Lastly,
Philip added Portugal and its possessions to his vast inheritance, and
would have liked to hold all the world “for God and for Spain.” Being
himself a good Catholic, he wished to see all men of that faith, and to
those who did not believe in it he was a merciless foe, and he shed the
blood of many martyrs.

Now Drake hated Philip and the Pope more than anything in the world, as
much as he loved England and honoured his own Queen Elizabeth. He spent
most of his life in making war against the King of Spain in one way or
another, calling it all, as he told Queen Elizabeth, “service done to
your Majesty by your poor vassal (or servant) against your great enemy.”

During Drake’s life wars about religion were raging in almost every
European country. In France the struggle ended by most people remaining
Catholics, just as England, after Elizabeth’s reign, was always a
Protestant country. But such changes really take long to come about,
especially in days when news travelled slowly, when there were no
trains or steamships, and no penny newspapers.

Francis Drake was born when Edward the Sixth was king, in a farmhouse
near Tavistock in Devonshire; but while he was quite a young child his
father, who was a Protestant, had to fly from his country home, owing
to an outbreak of anger among his Catholic neighbours. So the first
stories the little Francis would hear must have been tales of this time
of persecution, when many of his father’s friends had to hide in woods
and caves, and lost all they possessed. From his very cradle he must
have been taught to hate the “Papists.”

The new home was rather a strange one, for the old books say Drake’s
father went to Kent, “to inhabit in the hull of a ship, wherein many of
his younger sons were born. He had twelve in all, and as it pleased God
that most of them should be born upon the water, so the greater part of
them died at sea.” The father seems to have been a sailor at one time,
and he now got a place among the seamen of the King’s Navy, to read
prayers to them. The Navy ships were anchored off Chatham when not in
use, and here, in an old unused warship, the elder Drake and his family
made their floating home. Here most of the twelve boys were born, a
troop of merry children, and many a fine game they must have had on the
decks. The sound of wind and waves must have been familiar to them as
they went to sleep at nights, and they grew up strong and fearless,
and, living as they did among sailors, must have early set their hearts
on going to sea and having adventures.

At the death of King Edward the Sixth the Catholic Queen Mary began to
reign, and Philip, then Prince of Spain, came over to marry her. He
looked “very gallant,” they said, in his suit of white kid, covered
with gold embroidery, and was followed by a train of splendid-looking
Spanish nobles, and he brought quantities of gold and silver, borne
on the backs of horses. But the English people hated the foreign
marriage, and so strong was this feeling that in the winter before the
wedding even the children in the streets shouted against the Spaniards
and snowballed them as they went to Court. Perhaps Francis Drake and
his brothers left their usual games to play at being Philip and the
English, like some other lads, of whom we read that their play became
so real and exciting that they were only just prevented from hanging
the boy who acted the part of Philip. The King of Spain might have seen
his son upon the English throne, but this hope, like so many of his,
was doomed to be defeated, for Mary died childless, and Elizabeth came
to the throne.

As Drake’s father was at this time a poor man, he put his son Francis
to learn seamanship of the master of a bark or small ship that used to
coast along the shore and sometimes carried merchandise to France and
the Netherlands. At this time he must have had to suffer many hardships
and to live a rough life, but he learned his business well, and “was so
diligent and painstaking, and so pleased the old man his master by his
industry,” that at his death he left his bark to Francis Drake.

Later Drake grew weary of this little ship, that “only crept along
the shore,” and longed for something more than such safe and simple
voyaging, so he seems to have sold the bark and taken service with his
kinsmen, the Hawkins brothers, who were rich merchants and owned and
sailed their ships. And so began Drake’s roving life.




CHAPTER II

“THE TROUBLESOME VOYAGE”


The four centuries before the sixteenth, in which Drake lived, have
been called the Age of Discovery. The world widened before men’s eyes
as new lands and seas, new peoples, and even new stars, became known
to them. The little country of Portugal was the first to begin those
discoveries. Her ships explored the coasts of Africa and traded there.
One of her mariners discovered the passage round the Cape of Good Hope
to India, the Spice Islands, and China, and for long she had no rival
in her trade.

About fifty years before Drake was born, America was discovered by
Christopher Columbus, an Italian sailor in the service of Spain. The
ships in use in those days were very different to any we see now. There
have been three kinds of ships made, ships with oars, ships with
sails, and ships with steam. They are divided into two kinds, fighting
ships and merchant ships.

The old-fashioned galley was long and low-decked, and could be rowed
or sailed. In the middle of the ship, between two platforms or upper
decks, the rowers were chained to their seats. Three or four men
worked each of the long oars, or _sweeps_ as they were called. There
were twenty-five oars or more on each side of the ship. The rowers or
galley-slaves were generally prisoners taken in war, and to “be sent to
the galleys” was a terrible fate. They lived on the benches, ill-fed
and ill-clothed, with only an awning to cover them when in port, though
the low sides of the ships protected them a little from the weather and
from the fire of the enemy. Drake seems always to have released the
slaves he took on Spanish galleys. Once, we are told, they included
“Turks, Greeks, Negroes, Frenchmen, and Spaniards.”

The sailors who worked the ships were free. The ships were always
armed, at first with shields and spears and arrows, later with guns and
powder. With such ships the Italians fought many great battles on the
Mediterranean, and in such ships the Norsemen had invaded England and
raided the Northern Seas; and, with his _caravels_, or light Spanish
ships, Columbus reached the islands which he called the West Indies.
In later voyages he reached the mainland of America, but to the day
of his death he always believed that he had found the coast of Asia.
Another Italian sailor, named Amerigo, also in the service of Spain,
gave his name to the New World. The Italians had long been good sailors
and ship-builders, and great fighters at sea, and they had the glory of
discovering America, though they gained no possessions there.

Spain, at that time the most powerful state in Europe, seized upon a
great part of the new land, and found there gold and silver mines. The
natives they first subdued and afterwards forced to become Christians,
as the custom was in warfare with a Pagan race.

The American Indians, however, have never been easy to subdue, and
have always had an undying affection for their own way of life.
The Spaniards found them unfitted for hard work in the mines. The
Portuguese had already captured negroes in their West African
settlements, and numbers of those were sent to America as slaves.

From the time of Henry the Eighth the English were building and buying
fine ships, and learnt to sail them so well that they began less and
less to use the old galley ship with its many oars. They traded mostly
with Spain and the Low Countries; but as they got better ships, and
became expert sailors, they wanted to go farther away, to discover new
countries and get more trade. They began to sail to the Canary Islands,
to Africa, and America.

The Hawkins family had taken a large part in this new activity. The
elder William Hawkins had sailed to Brazil; and his son, John Hawkins,
with whom Drake took service, made several voyages to the “Isles of
the Canaries.” Having learnt something about the West Indies, he made
several voyages there, carrying with him numbers of negroes to sell,
whom he took, partly by the sword, and partly by other means, on the
coast of Africa.

Hawkins and the other adventurers who joined him brought home great
riches. In the account of those early voyages we see the beginning of a
quarrel with Spain, which was to last through the reign of Elizabeth,
till Philip sent his great Armada to invade England.

The third and most famous voyage of John Hawkins to the West Indies was
called “the troublesome voyage,” for it ended in disaster. It was the
biggest venture that had yet been made by the English, and Drake took
part in it. Hawkins sailed with six ships. There were two “great ships”
of the Royal Navy--the _Jesus_, commanded by Hawkins himself, and the
_Minion_; the _William and John_, named after and owned by the Hawkins
brothers; and three smaller ones, the _Swallow_, the _Angel_, and the
_Judith_, the last being under the command of Francis Drake.

They got slaves in Africa and sold them in the West Indies, though
not without difficulty, because the Spaniards had been forbidden by
their king to trade with the English. As they were about to start on
their way home, the ships met with fearful storms, and as the _Jesus_
was much shattered, Hawkins made up his mind to seek for haven. They
were driven at last into Vera Cruz, the port of the city of Mexico.
Here they sheltered, hoping to buy food and repair their fleet. Now
in this very port lay treasure which was said to be worth thousands of
pounds. It was waiting for the fleet of armed ships which was to take
it safely back to Spain. The Spaniards were much dismayed to see the
English ships, with their Portuguese ships and prisoners captured on
the voyage, come, as they thought, to seize their treasure. It was this
very danger they had feared when Hawkins first began his slave trade
and disturbed the peace of the Spanish colonies.

Next morning thirteen great ships appeared, and proved to be a Mexican
fleet returning with a new Viceroy or Governor from King Philip. A
solemn and peaceful agreement was made, and the Spanish ships were
moored alongside the English ones, which were already in possession of
the harbour. However, the Spaniards afterwards broke faith and fell
upon the English, and a great and fierce fight took place, which lasted
from ten in the morning until night. The _Angel_ and the _Swallow_ were
sunk, and the _Jesus_ so damaged that it could not be brought away.

As the remaining ships were sailing away, the Spaniards sent two
“fire ships” after them. This was not an unusual way of fighting in
those days. The empty, burning ships were sent to try and fire the
enemies’ ships, and were borne along, flaming, by the wind, an awful
and terrifying sight. The men on the _Minion_ became panic-stricken,
and set sail without orders. Some of the men from the _Judith_ followed
in a small boat. The rest were forced “to abide the mercy of the
Spaniards,” which, Hawkins says, he doubts was very little.

“The same night,” he goes on, “the _Judith_ forsook us in our great
misery. In the end, when the wind came larger, we weighed anchor and
set sail, seeking for water, of which we had very little. And wandering
thus certain days in these unknown seas, hunger forced us to eat hides,
cats and dogs, mice, rats, parrots, and monkeys.”

Some of the men asked to be put on land, rather than risk shipwreck and
starvation in the overcrowded boat. Hawkins did, in the end, get safely
home, with his weather-beaten ship, and the survivors of his feeble,
starving crew. But he says that, if all the miseries and troubles of
this sorrowful voyage were to be written, the tale would be as long
as the “Book of Martyrs.” Some of the men that were left also reached
England, after weary wanderings and years of terrible sufferings. Some
were put to death as heretics, and others were sent to the galleys as
slaves. Others, more fortunate, were sent to serve in monasteries,
where the monks made kind and gentle masters.

Five days before Hawkins reached England, the little _Judith_ struggled
into Plymouth Harbour with Drake and his load of men. William Hawkins
sent him at once to London on horseback, “post, post haste,” as the old
letters say. He carried letters to the Lords of Council, and to Sir
William Cecil, the Chief Secretary of the Queen. So he rode swiftly
along the country roads, only stopping to fling himself off one weary,
smoking horse on to the back of a fresh one. The people would gather
round him as he made the change, and wonder what great news was going
to town.

William Hawkins said in his letter: “There is come to Plymouth, at this
present hour, one of the small barks of my brother’s fleet, and as I
have neither writing nor anything else from him, I thought it good,
and my most bounden duty, to send you the captain of the same bark. He
is our kinsman, and is called Francis Drake.”

He was to tell the whole story, and the Queen was to hear it. He was
to tell of the losses of John Hawkins, and of his absence, which his
brother says “is unto me more grief than any other thing in the world.”

Drake was much blamed at the time for deserting his general. It is
difficult for us to see what he could have done. His little ship was
crowded, and he had small store of food and water, and he no doubt
thought it best to get home as soon as possible. His story of Spanish
treachery and English loss must have roused the countryside. The
excitement was at its height when the _Minion_ appeared off Cornwall.

A man “for goodwill” came riding to William Hawkins, at Plymouth, to
get help. He sent a bark, with thirty-four mariners and a store of
fresh food and other necessaries. And again letters were sent to London
with the news. Haste! haste! post haste!

[Illustration: Drake carrying to Court the news of his voyage]




CHAPTER III

NOMBRE DE DIOS


It was in January 1569 that the “troublesome voyage” ended for Drake,
and in the summer of that year he married a Devonshire girl, named Mary
Newman. The stories of his most famous voyages are found in an old
book, called “Sir Francis Drake Revived.” This was first printed by
his descendant, another Sir Francis Drake, in the reign of Charles the
First. It was written by some of the voyagers, and it is thought that
Drake himself wrote part of it and corrected it. It is supposed that
Drake presented the manuscript to Queen Elizabeth, for he dedicates it
to her as the “first fruits” of his pen. He also says that his labours
by land and sea were not more troublesome than the writing of it.

After his losses and misfortunes in the Indies, it seems that Drake
could get no amends from Spain, though he had lost both kinsmen,
friends, and goods of some value. Queen Elizabeth could not think of
making war with Philip. Her country was poor, her father’s navy was
ruined. She had no proper army, and she had trouble enough on her hands
in France and Scotland.

Therefore Drake decided to help himself in what he was pleased to call
his quarrel with the King of Spain. The old writer says that the story
of his life shows how “so mean a person righted himself upon so mighty
a prince. The one was in his own conceit the mightiest monarch in the
world, the other only an English captain.”

Drake now made two voyages that really prepared the way for his great
and famous one to Nombre de Dios. He probably paid his expenses by
plundering ships or selling slaves. On the 24th day of May 1572, Drake
started with his ship, the _Pascha_, of Plymouth, and the _Swan_, of
Plymouth, in which his brother, John Drake, was captain. They had on
board seventy-three men and boys. All of these came willingly, and had
not been _pressed_, or compelled to serve, as the custom then was.

Drake’s ships had a very good passage, and never stopped till they
reached one of the West Indian Islands, in twenty-five days. Here they
stayed three days to refresh the men, and to water the ships. The third
day they set sail for the continent. They steered for a bay named
formerly by them Port Pheasant. It was a fine, safe harbour. As they
rowed ashore in one boat, smoke was seen in the woods. Drake manned and
armed the other boats.

When they landed, it was found that a certain Englishman, called John
Garret, of Plymouth, had lately been there. Some mariners who had been
with Drake in his other voyages had shown him the place.

Garret had left a plate of lead, nailed fast to a mighty, great tree,
on which these words were engraved:--

                            “CAPTAIN DRAKE.

 “If you happen to come to this port, make haste away! for the
 Spaniards which you had with you here, the last year, have betrayed
 this place, and taken away all you left here. I depart from hence this
 present day of July, 1572.--Your very loving friend,

                                      “JOHN GARRET.”

The smoke came from a fire which Garret and his company had made before
they went. It had been burning for at least five days before Drake’s
arrival. Drake had brought with him “three dainty pinnaces,” made in
Plymouth, and stored on board ship in pieces. He intended to put them
together in this place. So the ships were anchored, and the place
simply but strongly fortified with great logs.

Next day an English boat appeared. The captain was James Rance, and he
had thirty men, some of whom had been with Drake the year before. They
brought with them a Spanish _caravel_, or merchant ship, which they had
taken the day before, and a pinnace. They joined Drake’s expedition.
In seven days the pinnaces were set up and furnished out of the ships.
Some negroes on a neighbouring island told them that the townsfolk of
Nombre de Dios were in great fear of the _Cimaroons_, or “Maroons,” as
our sailors called them. They had attacked the town of Nombre de Dios,
and the Governor of Panama was to send soldiers to defend it. These
were negroes who had fled some eighty years before from the cruelty of
the Spaniards. They had married Indian women, and had grown into a
strong fighting tribe, who had two kings of their own, and lived, one
on the east, and one on the west, of the road from Nombre de Dios to
Panama. This was the road by which all the gold and silver from the
mines of Peru was sent to the port of Nombre de Dios, to be shipped for
Spain. It was carried by trains of mules.

Drake hastened his plans. Three ships and the _caravel_ were left with
Captain Rance. He chose seventy-three men for the three pinnaces (the
fourth was that taken by Captain Rance), took plenty of arms, and two
drums and a trumpet. The men were drilled and given their weapons and
arms, which had been kept up till then “very fair and safe in good
casks.” Drake encouraged them to the attack. In the afternoon they set
sail for Nombre de Dios, and were very near before sunset. They lay
there under the shore, out of sight of the watch, till dark. Then they
rowed near shore as quietly as possible, and waited for the dawn.

But Drake found the men were getting nervous, so when the moon rose “he
thought it best to persuade them it was day dawning,” and the men had
not time to get afraid, for they got there at three in the morning.
They landed with no difficulty. But the noise of bells and drums and
shouting soon told them that the town was awake and alarmed. Twelve
men were left to keep the pinnaces and ensure a safe retreat. Drake’s
brother, with John Oxenham and sixteen other men, went round behind the
King’s Treasure-house, and entered the eastern end of the market-place.
Drake, with the rest, passed up the broad street into the market-place,
with sound of drum and trumpets. They used fire-pikes, or long poles
with metal points, to which torches of blazing tow were fastened, and
served both to frighten the enemy and to light Drake’s men, who could
see quite well by them. The terrified townsfolk imagined an army was
marching upon them.

After a sharp fight in the market-place the Spaniards fled. Two or
three of them were captured, and commanded to show Drake the Governor’s
house. But he found that only silver was kept there; gold, pearls, and
jewels being carried to the King’s Treasure-house, not far off.

“This house was very strongly built of lime and stone for safe keeping
of the treasure. At the Governor’s house we found the great door open
where the mules are generally unladen. A candle stood lighted on the
top of the stairs, and a fair horse was saddled ready for the Governor
himself, or for one of his household. By this light we saw a huge heap
of silver in the lower room. It was a pile of bars of silver.

“At this sight our Captain commanded straightly that none of us should
touch a bar of silver. We must stand to our weapons, because the town
was full of people. There was in the King’s Treasure-house, near the
waterside, more gold and jewels than all our pinnaces could carry. This
we could presently try to break open, though they thought it so strong.

“But now a report was brought by some of our men that our pinnaces were
in danger to be taken, and that we had better get aboard before day.
This report was learnt through a negro named Diego, who had begged to
be taken on board our ships when we first came. Our Captain sent his
brother and John Oxenham to learn the truth. They found the men much
frightened, for they saw great troops of armed townsfolk and soldiers
running up and down. Presently, too, a mighty shower of rain fell, with
a terrible storm of thunder and lightning. It came down violently, as
it does in these countries. Before we could reach the shelter at the
western end of the King’s Treasure-house, some of our bowstrings were
wet, and some of our match and powder hurt.

“Our men began to mutter about the forces of the town. But our Captain,
hearing, told them: ‘He had brought them to the mouth of the treasure
of the world; if they went without it, they might blame nobody but
themselves afterwards.’

“So soon as the fury of the storm was spent, he gave his men no time
to consider their doubts, nor the enemy no time to gather themselves
together. He stepped forward and commanded his brother and John Oxenham
to break the King’s Treasure-house. The rest, with him, were to hold
the market-place till the business was done.

[Illustration: Drake wounded at Nombre-de-Dios]

“But as he stepped forward his strength and sight and speech failed
him, and he began to faint for loss of blood. And we saw it had
flowed in great quantities upon the sand out of a wound in his leg.
He had got it in the first encounter, but though he felt some pain he
would not make it known till he fainted, and so betrayed it against his
will. He saw that some of the men, having already got many good things,
would seize any chance to escape further danger. But the blood that
filled our very footprints greatly dismayed our company, who could not
believe that one man could lose so much blood, and live.

“Even those who were willing to risk more for so good a booty would in
no case risk their Captain’s life. So they gave him something to drink
to recover him, and bound his scarf about his leg to stop the blood.
They also entreated him to be content to go aboard with them, there to
have his wound searched and dressed, and then to return on shore again
if he thought good.

“This they could by no means persuade him to, so they joined force
with fair entreaty, and bore him aboard his pinnace. Thus they gave
up a rich spoil only to save their Captain’s life, being sure that,
while they enjoyed his presence and had him to command them, they might
recover enough of wealth. But if once they lost him they should hardly
be able to get home again. No, nor keep that they had got already.
Thus we embarked by break of day, having besides our Captain, many of
our men wounded, though none slain but one trumpeter. And though our
surgeons were kept busy in providing remedies and salves for their
wounds, yet the main care of the Captain was respected by all the rest.

“Before we left the harbour, we took with little trouble the ship of
wine for the greater comfort of our company. And though they shot at
us from the town we carried our prize to the Isle of Victuals. Here we
cured our wounded men, and refreshed ourselves in the goodly gardens
which we found there abounding with great store of dainty roots and
fruits. There was also great plenty of poultry and other fowls, no less
strange than delicate.”




CHAPTER IV

FORT DIEGO


After the return to the ship Captain Rance departed. But Drake had a
new plan in his head; he meant to attack Cartagena, the capital of
the Spanish Main. Sailing into the harbour in the evening, they found
that the townsfolk had been warned that Frenchmen and Englishmen were
about. Drake took possession of a large ship that was outward bound.
But the townsfolk, hearing of it, took the alarm, rang out their bells,
fired their cannon, and got all their soldiers out. Next morning
Drake took two more ships near the harbour, one of which was bound to
Cartagena with a letter of warning against “Captain Drake.” Drake sent
his Spanish prisoners on shore, and so ended his first attempt upon
Cartagena.

He saw that the coasts were aware of his presence. Yet he did not
want to go away till he had discovered the Maroons; for his faithful
negro, Diego, had told him that they were friendly to him as the
enemy of Spain. This search might take time, and must be done in the
smaller boats, which were swifter and could explore the rivers. He had
not enough of men both to sail the boats and the pinnaces; so he now
decided to burn one of the ships and make a storehouse of the other.
In this way his pinnaces would be properly manned, and he could stay
as long as he liked. This was accordingly done. For fifteen days the
big ship lay hidden in the Sound of Darien, to make the Spaniards think
they had left the coast. Here Drake kept the men busy trimming and
cleaning the pinnaces, clearing the ground, and building huts. Diego
the negro was a very good builder, and knew the ways of the country
well. The men played, too, at bowls and quoits, and shooting with
arrows at targets. The smiths had brought forges from England and set
them up. Every now and again the pinnaces crept out to sea to plunder
passing ships. Much food was put away in different storehouses to
serve till they had “made their voyage,” as they said, or “made their
fortunes,” as we should say.

Later, Port Plenty being found an unsafe harbour, they moved to a new
place, which they fortified and called Fort Diego. They now prepared to
wait five months, because the Maroons had told them that the Spaniards
carried no treasure by land during the rainy months. They were not
idle during these months, for the ship and fort were left in charge of
John Drake, while Captain Drake and John Oxenham went roving in the
pinnaces. They had many adventures, being in some peril in their small
boats, and always at the mercy of the weather, while at one time they
were almost starving. Some of the men got ill with the cold and died,
for they had little shelter on board. When they got back to the ships
they found all things in good order; but they received the heavy news
of the death of John Drake, the Captain’s brother, a young man of great
promise.

“Our Captain then resolved to keep close and go no more to sea, but
supplied his needs, both for his own company and the Maroons, out of
his storehouse. Then ten of our company fell down sick of an unknown
disease, and most of them died in a few days. Later, we had thirty
men sick at one time. Among the rest, Joseph Drake, another of his
brothers, died in our Captain’s arms.

“We now heard from the Maroons, who ranged the country up and down for
us, to learn what they might for us, that the fleet had arrived from
Spain in Nombre de Dios. The Captain prepared to make his journey by
land to Panama. He gave Elias Hixon the charge of the ship and company
and the Spanish prisoners. Our Captain was advised by the Maroons what
provisions to prepare for the long and great journey, what kind of
weapons, what store of victuals, and what kind of clothes. He was to
take as many shoes as possible, because they had to pass so many rivers
with stone and gravel. Twenty-eight of our men had died. A few were
left to keep the ship, attend the sick, and guard the prisoners.

“We started on Shrove Tuesday, February the third. At his departure
our Captain gave this Master strict charge, in any case not to trust
any messenger that should come in his name with any tokens, unless
he brought his handwriting. This he knew could not be copied by the
Maroons or the Spaniards.”




CHAPTER V

THE GOLDEN MULE-TRAINS


There were forty-eight men of the party, of whom eighteen only were
English. The Maroons carried arms and food, and got more food with
their arrows from time to time. Every day they began to march by
sunrise, and rested in the heat of the day in shelters made by the
Maroons. The third day they came to a little town or village of the
Maroons, which was much admired by the sailors for its beauty and
cleanliness. “As to their religion,” says the story, “they have no kind
of priests, only they held the Cross in great awe. But by our Captain’s
persuasions, they were contented to leave their crosses and to learn
the Lord’s Prayer, and to be taught something of God’s worship.”

They begged Drake to stay with them some days, but he had to hasten
on. Four of the best guides amongst the Maroons marched on ahead, and
broke boughs to show the path to those that followed. All kept strict
silence. The way lay through cool and pleasant woods.

“We were much encouraged because we were told there was a great Tree
about half way, from which we could see at once both the North Sea,
from whence we came, and the South Sea, whither we were going.

“The fourth day we came to the height of the desired hill, a very high
hill, lying east and west like a ridge between the two seas. It was
about ten of the clock. Then Pedro, the chief of the Maroons, took our
Captain by the hand, and prayed him to follow him if he wished to see
at once two seas, which he had so greatly longed for.

“Here was that goodly and great high Tree, in which they had cut
and made various steps to get up near the top. Here they had made a
convenient bower, where ten or twelve men might easily sit. And here
we might, with no difficulty, plainly see the Atlantic Ocean, whence
we now came, and the South Atlantic (Pacific) so much desired. South
and north of the Tree they had felled certain trees that the prospect
might be clearer.

[Illustration: The Maroon Chief showing the Atlantic and Pacific Oceans
from the tree-top]

“Our Captain went up to this bower, with the chief Maroon. He had,
because of the breeze, as it pleased God, a very fair day. And he saw
that sea of which he had heard such golden reports. He prayed Almighty
God, of His goodness, to give him life and leave to sail once in an
English ship in that sea! Then he called up the rest of our men, and
specially he told John Oxenham of his prayer and purpose, if it pleased
God to grant him that happiness. He, understanding it, protested that,
unless our Captain did beat him from his company, he would follow him,
by God’s grace! Thus all, quite satisfied with a sight of the seas,
came down, and after our repast continued our ordinary march through
the woods.”

The last part of the march was through high pampas grass. But now they
began to get glimpses of Panama, and could at last see the ships in the
harbour. Now the march had to be more secret and silent than ever, till
at length they lay hidden in a grove near the high road from Panama to
Nombre de Dios. From here a Maroon was despatched, clothed as a negro
of Panama, as a spy. He was to go into the town and learn when the
treasure was to be taken from the King’s Treasure-house in Panama to
Nombre de Dios. This journey to Venta Cruz was always made by night,
because of the heat and toil of walking through the pampas grass. But
from Venta Cruz to Nombre de Dios they travelled always by day and not
by night, because the way lay through fresh, cool woods. The mules were
tied together in long trains, and guarded, if possible, by soldiers,
for fear of the Maroons.

The spy brought back news in the afternoon that a certain great man
intended to go to Spain by the first ship, and was going that night
towards Nombre de Dios with his daughter and family. He had fourteen
mules, of which eight were laden with gold and one with jewels. There
were also two other trains of fifty mules each, mostly laden with food,
and with a little silver, which were to come out that night also. Upon
hearing this they marched until they came to within two leagues of
Venta Cruz. Then Drake lay down with half his men on one side of the
way, about fifty paces off, in the long grass. John Oxenham, with
the captain of the Maroons and the other half of the men, lay on the
other side of the road at the same distance. In about half-an-hour’s
time they could hear the mules both coming and going from Venta Cruz
to Panama, where trade was lively when the fleet was there. The sound
of the deep-voiced bells which the mules wore carried far in the
still night. The men had been strictly charged not to stir or show
themselves, but let all that come from Venta Cruz pass by quietly, for
they knew the mules brought nothing but merchandise from there. But
one of the men, called Robert Pike, had “drunk too much brandy without
water,” and forgot himself, and with a Maroon went close to the road.

“And when a cavalier from Venta Cruz, well mounted, with his page
running at his stirrup, passed by, he rose up to look, though the
Maroon, more cautious, pulled him down and tried to hide him. But by
this time the gentleman had noticed that one half of him was white, for
we had all put our shirts over our other clothing that we might be sure
to know our own men in the pell-mell in the night. The cavalier put
spurs to his horse, and rode away at a gallop to warn others.

“The ground was hard and the night was still, and our Captain heard
this gentleman’s trot change to a gallop. He suspected that we were
discovered, but could not imagine by whose fault, nor had he time to
search. The gentleman, as we heard afterwards, warned the Treasurer,
who, fearing Captain Drake had come to look for treasure on land,
turned his train of mules aside from the way, and let the others which
were coming pass on. Thus, by the recklessness of one of our company,
and by the carefulness of that traveller, we were disappointed of a
most rich booty. But we thought that God would not let it be taken, for
likely it was well gotten by that Treasurer.

“The other two mule trains, which came behind that of the Treasurer,
were no sooner come up to us than we stayed and seized on them. One of
the chief carriers, a very sensible fellow, told our Captain by what
means we were discovered, and counselled us to shift for ourselves
betimes, for we should encounter the whole force of the city and
country before day would be about us.”

Drake and his men were little pleased at the loss of their golden
mule-trains, for they had only taken two horse-loads of silver. It was
the more provoking that they had been betrayed by one of their own men.
There was no help for it, and Drake never “grieved at things past,” so
they decided to march back the nearest way. Pedro, the chief of the
Maroons, said he “would rather die at Drake’s foot than leave him to
his enemies.” When they got near Venta Cruz, they turned back the mules
with their drivers. Outside the town the soldiers met them, and a fight
took place upon Drake’s refusing to surrender.

“The soldiers shot off their whole volley, which, though it lightly
wounded our Captain and several of our men, caused death to one only
of our company, who was so powdered with hail-shot that we could not
recover his life, though he continued all that day afterwards with us.
Presently, as our Captain perceived their shot to come slacking, like
the last drops of a great shower of rain, he gave his usual signal with
his whistle, to answer them with our shot and arrows.

“The Maroons had stept aside at first for terror of the shot. But
seeing that we marched onwards they all rushed forward, one after
the other, with their arrows ready in their bows, and their manner of
country dance or leap, ever singing, _Yo Pehò! Yo Pehò!_ and so got
before us. They then continued their leap and song, after the manner of
their country wars, till they and we overtook the enemy. Our Maroons,
now thoroughly encouraged, when they saw our resolution, broke in
through the thickets near the town’s end, and forced the enemy to fly.
Several of our men were wounded, and one Maroon was run through with
one of their pikes, but his courage and mind served him so well that he
revenged his own death ere he died, by giving him that deadly wound.”

So they entered the town, and stayed there some hours for rest and
refreshment, and the Maroons were allowed to carry away some plunder.
At sunrise they marched away, for they had been gone from the ship
nearly a fortnight, and had left the company weak and sickly. Drake
marched cheerfully, and urged on his weary and disappointed men with
brave promises, but in the hurried march they had often to go hungry.
Three leagues from the port the Maroons had built a camp or village
while they were away, and here they persuaded Drake to stop, as it had
been built “only for his sake.” “And indeed he was the more willing to
consent, that our want of shoes might be supplied by the Maroons, who
were a great help to us. For all our men complained of the tenderness
of their feet, and our Captain himself would join in their complaint,
sometimes without cause, but sometimes with cause indeed, which made
the rest to bear the burden more easily. These Maroons did us good
service all the time they were with us. They were our spies on the
journey, our guides, our hunters, and our house-wrights, and had
indeed able and strong bodies for carrying our necessities. Yea, many
times when some of our company fainted with sickness of weariness, two
Maroons would carry him with ease between them, two miles together;
and at other times, when need was, they would show themselves no less
valiant than industrious, and of good judgment.

“From this town our Captain despatched a Maroon with a token and a
certain order to the master. He, all those weeks, kept good watch
against the enemy, and shifted in the woods for fresh food, for the
relief and recovery of our men left on board.”

When the messenger reached the shore he hailed those on the ship, who
quickly fetched him on board. He showed Drake’s token, the golden
toothpick, and gave the message, which was to tell the master to meet
him at a certain river. When the master looked at the toothpick, he saw
written on it, “By me, Francis Drake.” Then he believed the messenger,
and prepared what provision he had, and repaired to the mouth of the
river. About three o’clock Drake and his men saw the pinnace, and
there was double rejoicing. The wanderers seemed strangely changed in
face and plight to those who had lived in rest and plenty on board
ship. Drake, indeed, was less so than the others. The fasting and hard
marches had done much, but still more “their inward grief, for that
they returned without that golden treasure they hoped for, did show her
print and footsteps in their faces.” But Drake was determined to repeat
the attempt.




CHAPTER VI

HOME AGAIN


Drake well knew that delay and idleness would soon spoil the spirits
of his men, so he at once divided them into two companies, under
himself and John Oxenham, to go roving in the two pinnaces in different
directions and seek for food and plunder. Some of the Maroons were
dismissed with gifts, and the rest remained with a few men on board
ship. The Governor of Panama had warned the towns so well that it was
useless to attempt them at present. Drake, in the _Minion_, took a
frigate of gold and dismissed it, somewhat lighter, to go on its way.
John Oxenham, in the _Bear_, took a frigate well laden with food of all
kinds. Drake was so pleased with this ship, which was strong and new
and shapely, that he kept her as a man-of-war in place of the sunken
ship. And the company were heartened with a feast and much good cheer
that Easter Day.

Next day the pinnaces met with a French captain out of Newhaven, whose
ship was greatly distressed for want of food and water. Drake relieved
him, and the captains exchanged gifts and compliments. The French
captain sent Drake “a gilt fair scimitar” which had belonged to Henry
the Third of France, and had in return a chain of gold and a tablet.
This captain brought them the news of the Massacre of St. Bartholomew’s
Day, and said he thought “those Frenchmen the happiest who were
furthest from France, now no longer France but Frenzy.” He had heard
famous reports of their riches, and wanted to know how he also could
“make his voyage.” They resolved, after consultation, to take him and
twenty of his men to serve for halves. They now sent for the Maroons.

A party was made up of twenty Frenchmen, fifteen Englishmen, and some
Maroons. They sailed with a frigate and two pinnaces towards a river
called Rio Francisco, to the west of Nombre de Dios. There was not
enough water to sail the frigate, so she was left in charge of a
mariner to await the return of the pinnaces. They went on, and landed
both captains with their force. Those in charge of the pinnaces were
ordered to be there the fourth day without fail. The land party went on
through the woods towards the high road from Panama to Nombre de Dios,
where the mules now went daily. They marched, as before, in silence.
They stayed all night a mile from the road, in great stillness, and
refreshed themselves. They could hear the carpenters working on their
ships, which they did at nights because of the fierce heat of the day.
Next morning, the 1st of April, they heard such a number of bells that
the Maroons rejoiced exceedingly, and assured them they should now have
more gold and silver than they could carry away. And so it came to pass.

For three trains appeared, one of fifty mules and two of seventy each,
and every mule carried 300 lbs. weight of silver, amounting to nearly
30 tons. The leaders of the mules were taken by the heads, and all the
rest lay down, as they always do. The fifteen soldiers who guarded each
train were routed, but not before they had wounded the French captain
sorely, and slain one of the Maroons. They took what silver and gold
they could carry, and buried the rest in the burrows made in the earth
by the great land crabs under old fallen trees, and in the sand and
gravel of a shallow river.

After two hours they marched back through the woods, but had to leave
the French captain to rest and recover from his wound. Two of his men
willingly stayed with him. Later on a third Frenchman was found to be
missing. He had got drunk, and overloaded himself with plunder, and
lost himself in the woods. They afterwards found he was taken by the
Spaniards in the evening, and, upon torture, revealed to them where the
treasure was hidden.

When they reached the river’s mouth, they saw seven Spanish pinnaces at
sea, which had come out to search the coasts. This made them fear their
own pinnaces were taken. But a storm in the night forced the Spaniards
to go home, and also delayed the English pinnaces, for the wind was so
contrary and so strong that they could only get half way. For this
reason they had fortunately been unseen by the Spaniards.

“But our Captain, seeing their ships, feared lest they had taken our
pinnaces, and compelled our men by torture to confess where his ships
and frigate were. In this great doubt and perplexity the company
feared that all means of returning to their country were cut off, and
that their treasure would then serve them to small purpose. But our
Captain comforted and encouraged us all, saying: ‘We should venture no
further than he did. It was no time now to fear, but rather to haste to
prevent that which was feared. If the enemy have prevailed against our
pinnaces (which God forbid!), yet they must have time to search them,
time to examine the mariners, time to execute their resolution after
it is determined. Before all those times be taken, we may get to our
ships, if ye will, though not possibly by land, because of the hills,
thickets, and rivers, yet by water. Let us, therefore, make a raft with
the trees that are here in readiness, as offering themselves, being
brought down to the river happily by this last storm, and let us put
ourselves to sea! I will be one, who will be the other?’

“John Smith offered himself, and two Frenchmen that could swim very
well desired they might accompany our Captain, as did the Maroons
likewise. They had prayed our Captain very earnestly to march by land,
though it was a sixteen-days’ journey, in case the ship had been
surprised, that he might abide with them always. Pedro was most eager
in this, who was fain to be left behind because he could not row.

“The raft was fitted and fast bound; a sail of a biscuit-sack was
prepared; an oar was shaped out of a young tree to serve instead of a
rudder, to direct their course before the wind.

“At his departure, our Captain comforted the company by promising
‘that, if it pleased God he should put his foot in safety on board his
frigate, he would, by one means or other, get them all on board, in
spite of all the Spaniards in the Indies!’

“In this manner pulling off to sea, he sailed some three leagues,
sitting up to the waist continually in water, and up to the armpits at
every surge of the waves, for the space of six hours upon this raft.
And what with the parching of the sun and what with the beating of salt
water, they had all of them their skins much fretted away.

“At length God gave them the sight of two pinnaces turning towards
them with much wind, but with far greater joy to him than can easily
be guessed. So he did cheerfully declare to those three with him, that
‘they were our pinnaces! and that all was safe, so there was no cause
of fear!’

“But look, the pinnaces not seeing the raft, nor suspecting any such
matter, by reason of the wind, and night growing on, were forced to
run into a cove behind the point, to take shelter for the night. Our
Captain seeing this, and gathering that they would anchor there, put
his raft ashore, and ran round the point by land, where he found them.
They, upon sight of him, made as much haste as they could to take him
and his company on board. For our Captain, on purpose to see what haste
they could and would make in extremity, himself ran in great haste, and
so made the other three with him, as if they had been chased by the
enemy. And so those on board suspected, because they saw so few with
him.

“And after his coming on board, when they demanded ‘how his company
did?’ he answered coldly, ‘Well!’ They all feared that all went scarce
well. But he, willing to rid all doubts, and fill them with joy, took
out of his bosom a quoit of gold, thanking God that ‘our voyage was
made!’”

They then rowed up the river and rescued the others, and brought back
such of the treasure as they had been able to carry with them, and
all returned to the ships by dawn. There Drake divided the treasure
equally by weight between the French and the English. During the next
fortnight everything was set in order, and the _Pascha_ given to the
Spanish prisoners to go home in. Meanwhile a party was sent out to try
and rescue the French captain and to seek for the buried treasure. One
only of the Frenchmen managed to escape and was saved. Much of the
treasure had been discovered by the Spaniards, but not all, and the
party returned very cheerful, with thirteen bars of silver and a few
quoits of gold. The Frenchmen now left them, having got their shares of
the treasure. The ships parted when passing close by Cartagena, which
they did in the sight of all the fleet, “with a flag of St. George on
the main top of the frigate, with silk streamers and ancients (national
flags) down to the water.”

Later on they anchored to trim and rig the frigates and stow away the
provisions, and they tore up and burnt the pinnaces so that the Maroons
might have the ironwork. One of the last days Drake desired Pedro and
three of the chief Maroons to go through both his frigates and see what
they liked. He promised to give them whatever they asked, unless he
could not get back to England without it. But Pedro set his heart on
the scimitar which the French captain had given to Drake; and knowing
Drake liked it no less, he dared not ask for it or praise it. But at
last he bribed one of the company to ask for him, with a fine quoit of
gold, and promised to give four others to Drake. Drake was sorry, but
he wished to please Pedro, who deserved so well, so he gave it to him
with many good words. Pedro received it with no little joy, and asked
Drake to accept the four pieces of gold, as a token of his thankfulness
and a pledge of his faithfulness through life. He received it
graciously, but did not keep it for himself but caused it to be cast
into the whole adventure, saying that “if he had not been helped to
that place he would never have got such a thing, and it was only just
that those who shared his burden in setting him to sea should enjoy a
share of the benefits.”

“Thus with good love and liking, we took our leave of that people. We
took many ships during our abode in those parts, yet never burnt nor
sunk any, unless they acted as men-of-war against us, or tried to trap
us. And of all the men taken in those vessels, we never offered any
kind of violence to any, after they were once come into our power. For
we either dismissed them in safety, or kept them with us some longer
time. If so, we provided for them as for ourselves, and secured them
from the rage of the Maroons against them, till at last, the danger of
their discovering where our ships lay being past, for which cause only
we kept them prisoners, we set them also free.

“We now intended to sail home the directest and speediest way, and this
we happily performed, even beyond our own expectations, and so arrived
at Plymouth, on Sunday about sermon-time, August the 9th, 1573.

“And the news of our Captain’s return being brought unto his people,
did so speedily pass over all the church, and fill their minds with
delight and desire to see him, that very few or none remained with the
preacher. All hastened to see the evidence of God’s love and blessing
towards our gracious Queen and country by the fruit of our Captain’s
labour and success.

                     “TO GOD ALONE BE THE GLORY.”




CHAPTER VII

ROUND THE WORLD


So we see that both of Drake’s ships, the _Pascha_ and the _Swan_, were
left behind in the West Indies, and he made a quick voyage home in the
well-built Spanish frigate. We hear nothing of Drake for two years
after his return to Plymouth. There is a legend that he kept on the
seas near Ireland. Elizabeth was still unable and unwilling to go to
war with the King of Spain, but she was willing to encourage the sort
of warfare that Drake and the other rovers had so successfully carried
on against him.

Such companies of adventurers as these that sailed under Drake and
Hawkins did a large part of the work of the navy in the time of
Elizabeth. The country was saved the expense which private persons were
willing to pay to furnish the ships. The Queen herself is known to
have shared in the expenses and plunder of some such expeditions, and
so she thriftily laid up treasure in England’s empty money-chests. But
some of her older councillors disliked exceedingly this way of getting
rich, and would rather it had been done openly in war, or not at all.

To Drake it seems to have been a very simple affair. He wished, in the
first place, as the old book says, “to lick himself whole of the damage
he had received from the Spaniards.” So he acted in pirate-fashion to
the Spaniards, but not to the French or to the natives of the West
Indies. And Drake considered his own cause so just that he never made
a secret of his doings. He went at his own risk, for should he be
taken by the enemy his country had no power to protect him, as she was
not openly at war with Spain. But, on the other hand, he was secretly
encouraged, and his gains were immense.

In the second place, Drake wished to attack and injure the Roman
Catholic faith whenever and wherever he could. Churchmen had told
him that this was a lawful aim. How earnestly he believed it we can
see from the story, where he tried to persuade the Maroons to “leave
their crosses,” which to him were the sign of the hated religion. The
terrible tale of the massacre of the Protestants on St. Bartholomew’s
Day told him by the French captain (who himself fell into the hands of
the Spaniards, as we have seen), must have inflamed this feeling in
his soul and in those of his men. It made them more eager than ever to
fight the enemies of their own faith.

Then, too, the Spaniards founded their rights to own the New World
upon a grant from one of the Popes; and the English, now no longer
Catholics, denied his power to give it, and claimed the right for
themselves to explore and conquer and keep what share they could get.

The King of Spain looked upon Drake as a pirate, but he could not find
out how far he had been secretly encouraged by Elizabeth, and Drake
was not punished, in spite of Philip’s urgent complaints. But he was
prevented from sailing away again on a voyage of discovery, though his
friends and brothers went, and among them John Oxenham, who was hanged
as a pirate by the Spaniards because he had no commission or formal
leave from the Queen or the Government to trade in the West Indies.

During this interval Drake took service in Ireland, under the Earl of
Essex, furnishing his own ships, “and doing excellent service both by
sea and land at the winning of divers strong forts.” The work he took
a part in was as harsh and cruel as any that was ever done by fire and
sword to make Ireland more desolate. Here he met Thomas Doughty, one of
the household of the Earl of Essex, a scholar and a soldier, who became
his friend, and sailed with him on his next voyage.

The story of this voyage is told under the name of “The World
Encompassed,” and in it Drake is said “to have turned up a furrow about
the whole world.” In 1520 Magellan had discovered the passage south of
America from the Atlantic to the Pacific Ocean, since called by his
name. Many adventurers had tried to follow him, but all their efforts
had ended in disaster, and the Straits had an uncanny name among
sailors, and “were counted so terrible in those days that the very
thoughts of attempting them were dreadful.”

Drake’s fleet was made up of five ships--the _Pelican_, which was
his flagship, the _Elizabeth_, the _Marigold_, the _Swan_, and the
_Christopher_. They took a hundred and sixty men and plentiful
provisions and stores for the long and dangerous voyage. They also took
pinnaces which could be set up when wanted. Nor did Drake forget to
“make provision for ornament and delight, carrying to this purpose with
him expert musicians, rich furniture (all the vessels for his table,
yea, many belonging to the cook-room, being of pure silver).”

They started on November 15, 1577, but were forced by a gale to put
back into Plymouth for repairs, and started out again on December 13.
The sailors were not told the real aim of the voyage, which was to
“sail upon those seas greatly longed for.” They were too full of fears
and fancies. The unknown was haunted in their minds with devils and
hurtful spirits, and in those days people still believed in magic.

They picked up several prizes on their way out, notably a large
Portuguese ship, whose cargo of wine and food was valuable to the
English ships. Drake sent the passengers and crew on shore, but kept
the pilot, Numa da Silva, who gives one account of the voyage, and
was most useful, as he knew the coasts so well. One of Drake’s main
cares on this voyage, we are told, was to keep the fleet together as
much as possible, to get fresh water, and to refresh the men, “wearied
with long toils at sea,” as often as possible. He decided to lessen
the number of the ships, for “fewer ships keep better company,” and he
looked for a harbour to anchor in.

“Our General,” says the book, “especially in matters of moment, was
never one to rely only on other men’s care, how trusty or skilful
soever they might seem to be. But always scorning danger, and refusing
no toil, he was wont himself to be one, whosoever was a second, at
every turn, where courage, skill, or industry was to be employed.
Neither would he at any time entrust the discovery of these dangers to
another’s pains, but rather to his own experience in searching out and
sounding of them.”

So in this case Drake himself went out in the boat and rowed into the
bay. The _Swan_, the _Christopher_, and the prize were sacrificed,
their stores being used for the other ships.

On the 20th of June they anchored in a very good harbour, called by
Magellan Port St. Julian. Here a gibbet stood upon the land, and in
this place Magellan is supposed to have executed some disobedient and
rebellious men of his company. In this port Drake began to “inquire
diligently into the actions of Master Thomas Doughty, and found them
not to be such as he looked for.”

(Doughty is said to have plotted to kill Drake or desert him, and take
his place as commander, or at any rate to force him to go back, to the
ruin of the voyage.)

“Whereupon the company was called together, and the particulars of the
cause made known to them, which were found partly by Master Doughty’s
own confession, and partly by the evidence of the fact, to be true.
Which when our General saw, although his private affection to Master
Doughty (as he then in the presence of us all sacredly protested)
was great; yet the care he had of the state of the voyage, of the
expectation of her Majesty, and of the honour of his country, did more
touch him (as indeed it ought) than the private respect of one man. So
that the cause being thoroughly heard, and all things done in good
order, as near as might be to the course of our laws in England, it was
concluded that Master Doughty should receive punishment according to
the quality of the offence. And he, seeing no remedy but patience for
himself, desired before his death to receive the Communion, which he
did, at the hands of our minister, and our General himself accompanied
him in that holy action....

“And after this holy repast, they dined also at the same table
together, as cheerfully, in sobriety, as ever in their lives they had
done aforetime, each cheering up the other, and taking their leave, by
drinking each to other, as if some journey only had been in hand.

“And the place of execution being ready, he having embraced our
General, and taken his leave of all the company, with prayer for
the Queen’s Majesty and our realm, in quiet sort laid his head to
the block, where he ended his life. This being done, our General
made various speeches to the whole company, persuading us to unity,
obedience, love and regard of our voyage. And to help us to this,
he willed every man the next Sunday following to prepare himself to
receive the Communion, as Christian brethren and friends ought to do,
which was done in very reverent sort, and so with good contentment
every man went about his business.”

On the 11th of August, as quarrelling still continued, Drake ordered
the whole ships’ companies ashore. They all went into a large tent, and
the minister offered to make a sermon. “Nay, soft, Master Fletcher,”
said Drake, “I must preach this day myself, although I have small skill
in preaching.... I am a very bad speaker, for my bringing up hath not
been in learning.”

He then told them that for what he was going to say he would answer
in England and before her Majesty. He and his men were far away from
their country and friends, and discords and mutiny had grown up among
them. “By the life of God,” said Drake, “it doth take my wits from
me to think on it. Here is such quarrels between the sailors and the
gentlemen as it doth make me mad to hear it. But, my masters, I must
have it left [off], for I must have the gentleman to haul and draw with
the mariner, and the mariner with the gentleman. What, let us show
ourselves all to be of a company, and let us not give occasion to the
enemy to rejoice at our decay and overthrow. I would know him that
would refuse to set his hand to a rope, but I know there is not any
such here....”

He then offered to send any home that liked in the _Marigold_, a
well-furnished ship; “but let them take heed that they go homeward, for
if I find them in my way I will surely sink them, therefore you shall
have time to consider here until to-morrow; for by my troth I must
needs be plain with you now.”

“Yet the voice was that none would return, they would all take such
part as he did.” And so, after more of such “preaching,” they were told
to forget the past, and “wishing all men to be friends, he willed them
to depart about their business.”




CHAPTER VIII

ROUND THE WORLD (_continued_)


On the 20th of August the three ships entered the Straits of Magellan.
Before the “high and steep grey cliffs, full of black stars,” of Cape
Virgins, at the entrance against which the beating seas looked like
whales spouting, the fleet did homage to the Queen. The name of the
_Pelican_ also was changed to the _Golden Hind_ in remembrance of
Drake’s “friend and favourer,” Sir Christopher Hatton, whose crest was
a golden hind. In sixteen days they reached the “South Sea,” Drake
himself having rowed on ahead of the fleet with some of his gentlemen
to find out the passage. He had meant to land, and leave “a monument of
her Majesty graven in metal,” which he had brought with him for that
purpose, but there was no anchoring, as the wind did not let them stay;
for a fearful storm arose and separated the ships, and threatened to
send them all to the bottom of the sea. The _Marigold_, indeed, went
down with all hands, and the _Elizabeth_, “partly by the negligence of
those that had charge of her, partly through a kind of desire that some
in her had to be out of all those troubles and to be at home again,
returned back the same way by which they came forward, and so coasting
Brazil, they arrived in England on June 2nd the year following.” So
that now, as the story quaintly says, the other ship, if she had been
still called the _Pelican_, would indeed have been a pelican alone in
the wilderness. Never did they think there had been such a storm “since
Noah’s Flood,” for it lasted fifty-two days. The ship was driven south
of the continent of America. At this time it was generally believed
that another great continent stretched to the south of the Straits,
which was called the unknown land, “wherein many strange monsters
lived.” And now, when Drake had discovered this idea to be false,
their troubles ended for the time, the storm ceased, but they were in
great grief for the loss of their friends, and still hoped to meet the
missing ships again.

They sailed northwards along the coast of America till they landed
on an island to get water. Here they were treacherously attacked by
Indians, who took them to be the hated Spaniards. The nine persons who
were in the boat were all wounded, and Drake’s faithful servant, Diego
the negro, died of his wounds, and one other. Drake himself was shot in
the face under the right eye, and badly wounded in the head. They were
in the worst case, because the chief doctor was dead, and the other in
the _Elizabeth_. There was none left them but a boy, “whose goodwill
was more than any skill he had.” But, owing to Drake’s advice, and “the
putting to of every man’s help,” all were cured in the end.

They sailed on, and having picked up a friendly Indian who served as
a pilot, they reached the harbour of Valparaiso. A ship which was
lying in the harbour was seized, and then the town and the Spaniards
discovered that Drake had reached the shores of the Pacific. On the
coast the ship was trimmed and the pinnace put together, in which Drake
himself set out to search the creeks and inlets where the ship could
not sail. Grief for the absence of their friends still remained with
them. Still searching for the lost ships, they sailed northwards on
to Lima, where they got the news that a great Spanish ship had sailed
from there a fortnight before, laden with treasure. Drake at once gave
chase, hoping to take her before she reached Panama. The first man who
sighted her was promised a chain of gold. The ship was overtaken and
captured off Cape San Francisco. She was “the great glory of the South
Sea,” and laden with gold, silver, plate, and jewels, all of which the
English took. After six days the Spanish ship was dismissed, “somewhat
lighter than before,” to Panama. To the master of the ship, Saint
Juan de Anton, he gave a letter to protect him if he fell in with the
missing English ships.

“Master Winter,” it says, “if it pleaseth God that you should chance to
meet with this ship of Saint Juan de Anton, I pray you use him well,
according to my word and promise given unto them. And if you want
anything that is in this ship of Saint Juan de Anton, I pray you pay
them double the value for it, which I will satisfy again, and command
your men not to do any hurt; desiring you, for the Passion of Christ,
if you fall into any danger, that you will not despair of God’s mercy,
for He will defend you and preserve you from all danger, and bring us
to our desired haven, to whom be all honour, glory, and praise for
ever and ever. Amen.--Your sorrowful Captain, whose heart is heavy for
you,--FRANCIS DRAKE.”

The next prizes captured yielded treasure of a different kind, though
equally precious. These were some charts with sailing directions,
taken from two China pilots. The owner of the next large Spanish ship
captured by Drake has left an interesting account of him.

He says that “the English General is the same who took Nombre de Dios
five years ago. He is a cousin of John Hawkins, and his name is Francis
Drake. He is about thirty-five years of age, of small size, with a
reddish beard, and is one of the greatest sailors that exist, both
from his skill and his power of commanding. His ship is of near four
hundred tons, sails well, and has a hundred men all in the prime of
life, and as well trained for war as if they had been old soldiers of
Italy. Each one is specially careful to keep his arms clean. He treats
them with affection and they him with respect. He has with him nine
or ten gentlemen, younger sons of the leading men in England, who form
his council. He calls them together on every occasion and hears what
they have to say, but he is not bound by their advice, though he may
be guided by it. He has no privacy; those of whom I speak all dine
at his table, as well as a Portuguese pilot whom he has brought from
England, but who never spoke a word while I was on board. The service
is of silver, richly gilt, and engraved with his arms. He has, too,
all possible luxuries, even to perfumes, many of which he told me were
given him by the Queen. None of these gentlemen sits down or puts on
his hat in his presence without repeated permission. He dines and sups
to the music of violins. His ship carries thirty large guns and a great
quantity of ammunition, as well as craftsmen who can do necessary
repairs. He has two artists who portray the coast in its own colours,
a thing which troubled me much to see, because everything is put so
naturally that any one following him will have no difficulty.”

Drake wished to find his way home by the north of America into the
Atlantic. But in this he was not successful, for the weather was very
severe, and tried the men too much; meanwhile, they found a convenient
haven in a little bay above the harbour of San Francisco, and now known
as “Drake’s Bay.” Here they stayed a month, repairing a leak in the
ship and refreshing the men. They then set sail, and saw nothing but
air and sea for sixty-eight days, till they reached some islands. These
they named the “Islands of Thieves,” on account of the behaviour of the
natives. In November they came to the islands of the Moluccas, where
Drake had a splendid reception.

They then sailed on till they arrived at a little island, which they
called the “Island of Crabs.” Here they pitched their tents, and set up
forges to repair the ironwork of the ship and the iron-hooped casks.
Those that were sickly soon grew well and strong in this happy island.

On the 9th of January the ship ran aground on a dangerous shoal, and
struck twice on it; “knocking twice at the door of death, which no
doubt had opened the third time.”

Nothing but instant death was expected, and the whole ship’s company
fell to praying. As soon as the prayers were said, Drake spoke to the
men, telling them how they must think of their souls, and speaking of
the joys of heaven “with comfortable speeches.” But he also encouraged
them to bestir themselves, and he himself set the example, and got
the pumps to work, and freed the ship of water. The ship was fast
upon “hard and pinching rocks, and did tell us plain she expected
continually her speedy despatch as soon as the sea and winds should
come ... so that if we stay with her we must perish with her.” The
other plan, of leaving her for the pinnace, seemed to them “worse than
a thousand deaths.”

After taking the Communion and listening to a sermon, they eased the
ship by casting goods into the sea--“three ton of cloves, eight big
guns, and certain meal and beans”; making, as an old writer says, a
kind of gruel of the sea round about. After they had been in this state
from eight o’clock at night till four o’clock next afternoon, all in a
moment the wind changed, and “the happy gale drove them off the rocks
again, and made of them glad men.”

The rest of the homeward voyage was less adventurous, and on the 18th
of June they passed the Cape of Good Hope, “a most stately thing, and
the fairest cape we saw in the whole circumference of the earth.”

On the 26th of September they “safely, and with joyful minds and
thankful hearts, arrived at Plymouth, having been away three years.”




CHAPTER IX

SIR FRANCIS


It was in the autumn of 1580 that Drake returned from his three years’
voyage. Wynter had brought the news home that Drake had entered the
Straits of Magellan, but since then only vague rumours of his death at
the hands of the Spaniards had reached England. Had he met such a fate,
Sir William Cecil (now Lord Burghley) and his party at Court would not
have been sorry; for they disliked piracy, and wished to avoid a war
with Spain.

This was more to be dreaded than ever, as at the death of the King of
Portugal Philip had seized his crown and vast possessions, and was
now the most powerful prince in Europe, since he owned the splendid
Portuguese fleet. Hitherto, Philip had only warships for the protection
of his treasure-ships, and they could not be spared. He was now known
to be preparing, in his slow way, a great Armada.

But Drake had not been hanged for a pirate, and this the Spaniards
knew very well. They clamoured for the restoration of his plunder, or
the forfeit of his life. At this time an army of Italian and Spanish
soldiers, under the command of a famous Spanish officer, had been
landed in Ireland to help the Catholic Irish in their rebellion against
Queen Elizabeth. These soldiers were said to have been sent by the
orders of the Pope. Finding the prospects of success too poor, the
Spanish officer withdrew his men, and they escaped by sea; but the
Italian soldiers, who numbered 600, were overpowered by the English,
and all except a few officers, who could pay a ransom, were slaughtered
in cold blood. Thus Philip’s attempt to strike a secret blow in
Elizabeth’s fashion was met by her with cruelty as relentless as his
own; but Elizabeth made this attempt an excuse for refusing to make an
inquiry into Drake’s doings in the West.

“The news of his home-coming in England was,” we are told, “by this
his strange wealth, so far-fetched, marvellous strange, and of all men
held impossible and incredible. But both proving true, it fortuned
that many misliked it and reproached him. Besides all this there were
others that devised and divulged” (made up and spread about) “all
possible disgraces” (base charges) “against Drake and his followers,
terming him the Master Thief of the Unknown World. Yet nevertheless the
people generally with exceeding admiration applauded his wonderful long
adventures and rich prize.”

Drake at once sent a message to tell the Queen of his return. He was
told he had nothing to fear, and was summoned to Court. He took with
him some horseloads of gold and silver and jewels. The Queen treated
him with great favour, and refused to take the advice of Burghley and
others, who wished to send the treasure back to Spain. Unlike them
she took her share of the profits, and also the fine gifts Drake had
brought for her. “But it grieved him not a little,” we are told, “that
some prime courtiers refused the gold he offered them, as gotten by
piracy.” He and his men had made golden fortunes.

The Spanish Ambassador naturally “burned with passion” against Drake,
and considered his presence at Court an insult to his king. “For he
passes much time with the Queen,” he wrote to Philip, “by whom he is
highly favoured.”

It was an insult Philip still felt himself unable to avenge. Elizabeth
had made a fresh treaty with France, and Philip’s best generals knew
the difficulties of an attack on England thus strengthened. Besides,
the Dutch, whom Elizabeth was helping, were his desperate enemies; for
they were fighting for faith and country and freedom, and to do this
makes bold soldiers. So Philip the prudent had to content himself with
making plans for his great Armada.

Meantime Drake sunned himself in the Court favour, and books and
pictures and songs were made in his praise.

The _Golden Hind_ was brought ashore at Deptford, and became a resort
for sightseers. But in spite of much patching she became so old that
she had to be broken up, and the last of her timbers were made into a
chair, which is still kept in a quiet Oxford library. So the ship ends
her days far away from the sound of the sea, and of the gay throngs
that used to make merry and dance on her decks.

[Illustration: SIR FRANCIS DRAKE]

On the 4th of April the Queen paid a State visit to the ship, and
ordered that it should be preserved for ever. A fine banquet was
served on board, and there, before the eyes of hundreds of onlookers,
Elizabeth knighted the “pirate captain.” She said jestingly that the
King of Spain had demanded Drake’s head, and now she had a gold sword
to cut it off. Thus Elizabeth openly defied the Spaniards, who were
still raging over their stolen treasure.

But there were some not in Spain who also thirsted for revenge upon
Drake. Thomas Doughty’s young brother was his unforgiving foe. The case
was never brought to Court or indeed to light; but young Doughty wrote
a letter in which he said “that when the Queen did knight Drake she did
then knight the greatest knave, the vilest villain, the foulest thief,
and the crudest murderer that ever was born.” The Spaniards bribed him
to try and murder Drake. We hear that he was put in prison, and we
never hear of his release.

In 1581 Drake was made Mayor of Plymouth. In 1583 his wife died. He was
then a member of Parliament. Two years later he married Mary Sydenham.
He never had any children.

The Queen now appointed Drake among others to inquire into the state
of the navy; he was to see to the repairing of ships, to the building
of new ones, and to the means of furnishing them with stores in case of
sudden war. From this time onwards the thought of a Spanish invasion
was a constant fear in the minds of the English people. But Philip
was unready, and Elizabeth unwilling to be the first to begin a war.
Elizabeth changed her mind and her plans in a way that must have
been maddening to the men who did her work. One good result of her
indecision was that England was better prepared for the invasion. In
those long years of private warfare money had been gathering, and the
navy made strong and ready for work. But for men of action, who like
to make a plan and stick to it, and go through with it at all costs,
Elizabeth’s delays and recalls were bewildering and unreasonable.

In 1585 Philip seized a fleet of English corn-ships trading in his own
ports. Then, at last, Drake’s long-talked-of expedition against the
Spanish settlements was got ready and sent out. He had about thirty
ships, commanded by some of the most famous captains of the time, men
like Fenner, Frobisher, and Wynter, who afterwards fought against the
Armada. His general of the soldiers was Christopher Carleill, “a man of
long experience in wars both by sea and land,” and who was afterwards
said to direct the service “most like a wise commander.” Drake’s ship
was the _Elizabeth Bonaventure_.

After a week spent in capturing ships, the fleet anchored at the Bayona
Islands, off Vigo Bay. The Governor of Bayona was forced to make terms.
He sent “some refreshing, as bread, wine, oil, apples, grapes, and
marmalade, and such like.” The people, filled with terror, were seen to
remove their possessions into boats to go up the Vigo River, inland,
for safety. Many of these were seized; most of them were loaded only
with household stuff, but one contained the “church stuff of the high
church of Vigo ... a great cross of silver of very fair embossed work
and double-gilt all over, having cost them a great mass of money.”

The fleet now went on its way by the Canary Islands. When Santiago was
reached, Carleill landed with a thousand troops and took possession
of the fortress and the town, for both had been forsaken. Here they
planted the great flag, “which had nothing on it but the plain English
cross; and it was placed towards the sea, that our fleet might see St.
George’s Cross flourish in the enemy’s fortress.” Guns were found ready
loaded in various places about the town, and orders were given that
these should be shot off “in honour of the Queen’s Majesty’s Coronation
day, being the 17th of November, after the yearly custom in England.
These were so answered again by the guns out of all the ships in the
fleet, as it was strange to hear such a thundering noise last so long
together.” No treasure was taken at Santiago, but there was food and
wine. The town was given to the flames in revenge for wrongs done to
old William Hawkins of Plymouth some years before.

They had not been many days at sea before a mortal sickness suddenly
broke out among the men. They anchored off some islands, where the
Indians treated them very kindly, carried fresh water to the ships, and
gave them food and tobacco. The tobacco was a welcome gift, to be used
against the infection of the mysterious sickness which was killing the
men by hundreds. They passed Christmas on an island to refresh the sick
and cleanse and air the ships.

Then Drake resolved, with the consent of his council, to attack the
city of St. Domingo, while his forces were “in their best strength.”
This was the oldest and most important city in the Indies, and was
famous for its beauty and strength. It had never been attempted before,
although it was so rich, because it was strongly fortified.

Some boats were sent on in advance of the fleet. They learned from a
pilot, whose boat they captured, that the Castle of St. Domingo was
well armed, and that it was almost impossible to land on the dangerous
coast; but he showed them a possible point ten miles from the harbour.
In some way Drake had sent messages to the Maroons, who lived on the
hills behind the town. At midnight, on New Year’s Day, the soldiers
were landed, Drake himself steering a boat through the surf. The
Maroons met them, having killed the Spanish watchman.

“Our General, having seen us all landed in safety to the west of that
brave city of St. Domingo, returned to his fleet, bequeathing us to God
and the good conduct of Master Carleill, our Lieutenant-General.”

The troops divided and met in the market-place; and as those in the
castle were preparing to meet Drake’s attack from the sea, they were
surprised from behind by the soldiers marching upon them with flags
flying and music playing. The fleet ceased firing while the fate of the
town was decided in a battle. By night Drake was in possession of the
castle, the harbour, and shipping. One of the ships captured they named
the _New Year’s Gift_.

But after all there was little of the fabled treasure to be found. The
labour in the gold and silver mines had killed the native Indians, and
the mines were no longer worked. There was plenty of food and wine to
be had, woollen and linen cloth and silk. But there was little silver;
the rich people used dishes of china and cups of glass, and their
beautiful furniture was useless as plunder. The town had to pay a large
sum of money for its ransom, and the English stayed a month, and fed at
its expense, and took away with them guns and merchandise and food and
numbers of galley-slaves, whom they set free.

Cartagena, the capital of the Spanish Main, was the last town to be
taken, and it had been warned. It had natural defences, which made
it very difficult to attack. Drake, as we know, had been there
before, and often, since then, he must have dreamed of taking it. He
triumphantly steered his fleet by a very difficult channel into the
outer harbour. He then threatened the fort with his guns while the
soldiers were secretly landed by night. They made their way to the town
by the shore, “wading in the sea-wash,” and so avoiding the poisoned
stakes which had been placed in the ground in readiness for them. They
also routed a company of horse soldiers sent out from the fort, as the
place where they met was so “woody and scrubby” as to be unfit for
horses. So they pushed on till they made a “furious entry” into the
town, nor paused till the market-place was won, and the people fled
into the country, where they had already sent their wives and children.

A large price or ransom was paid for this town, equal, it is said, to a
quarter of a million of our money; but it was far less than Drake had
at first demanded. But “the inconvenience of continual death” forced
them to go, for the sickness was still taking its prey from among the
men, and it also forced them to give up an attempt upon Nombre de
Dios and Panama. The voyage had been disappointing in the matter of
plunder. Most of the treasure had been taken away from the towns before
the English came, and many of the officers had died.

They considered the idea of remaining in Cartagena and sending home for
more troops. They would have had a fine position; but they decided that
their strength was not enough to hold the town and also man the fleet
against a possible attack by the Spaniards from the sea. So the lesser
ransom was accepted; the officers offering to give up their shares to
the “poor men, both soldiers and sailors, who had adventured their
lives against the great enemy.” They then returned to England, only
stopping to water the ships. They landed again at St. Augustine, on the
coast of Florida, where they destroyed a fort and took away the guns
and a pay-chest containing two thousand pounds.

“And so, God be thanked, we in good safety arrived at Portsmouth the
28th of July 1586, to the great glory of God, and to no small honour to
our Prince, our Country, and Ourselves.”




CHAPTER X

CADIZ


When Drake returned to England, it was to hear the news of the
“Babington plot.” This was a plot to assassinate Elizabeth, and to
place Mary of Scotland on the throne. In 1587 Mary was beheaded. In
Philip’s eyes the time had at last become ripe for an invasion of
England. Now that Mary was dead, there was less danger of France and
Scotland joining forces. And Philip, as a descendant of John of Gaunt,
could put in a claim that the throne of England, at the death of
Elizabeth, should come to himself or his daughter.

The Armada was getting ready to sail in the summer. In April, however,
Drake was sent out again with a small fleet. His flag-ship was again
the _Elizabeth Bonaventure_. His second in command was William Borough.

His orders were “to prevent the joining together of the King of Spain’s
fleet out of their different ports. To keep victuals from them. To
follow them in case they should come out towards England or Ireland. To
cut off as many of them as he could, and prevent their landing. To set
upon the West Indian ships as they came or went.”

But no sooner was he instructed than the Queen changed her bold orders
to milder ones. He was not to enter any port by force, nor to offer
violence to any towns, or ships in harbour. But Drake had got away to
sea without the second orders, and acted on the first.

He had heard that the ships were gathering in Cadiz harbour, and there
he decided boldly to seek for them. The outer and inner harbours of
Cadiz were crowded with shipping, most of which was getting ready for
the invasion of England. Drake’s fleet sailed in, routed the defending
galleys, and made havoc among the ships, about thirty-seven of which
were captured, burnt, or sunk. One was a large ship belonging to the
Marquis of Santa Cruz. They carried away four ships laden with wine,
oil, biscuits, and dried fruit; “departing thence,” as Drake says, “at
our pleasure, with as much honour as we could wish.” They were chased
by Spanish galleys, which did little harm, for the wind favoured the
English as they sailed away from Cadiz.

The Spaniards thought Drake had gone to stop the treasure fleet. But
Drake wished to stop the Armada, which was a much greater affair.
He knew now that Santa Cruz was making his headquarters at Lisbon.
Ships were gathering in the north of Spain. Recalde, one of the best
Spanish commanders, was waiting with a small fleet off Cape St. Vincent
to protect the treasure fleet when it arrived. Fifteen big ships had
escaped the attack in Cadiz harbour. The ships were to meet in Lisbon,
where Santa Cruz was collecting stores and food.

Recalde succeeded in escaping Drake, and took his ships safely into
Lisbon. Drake resolved to secure the station he had left. This
was the castle of Sagres, near Cape St. Vincent. His own officers
were staggered with the boldness of his plan, and Borough solemnly
protested. He had urged caution before Cadiz harbour; again he pleaded
for a council of war. He was of an older school of seamen than Drake,
and was horrified at the ways of the man who was born, as it has been
said, “to break rules.”

Drake was most indignant at his action, and put him under arrest, while
Borough expected daily that “the Admiral would have executed upon me
his bloodthirsty desire, as he did upon Doughty.”

[Illustration: Drake at the taking of Sagres Castle]

After reading the accounts of Drake in the stories of the different
voyages, we can understand how his men adored his spirit, and flocked
to his ship to serve under his flag. To them there was something
magical, and to the Spaniards something uncanny, in his luck. The
English called him “Fortune’s child,” and the Spanish called him “the
Devil.” But some of the officers who served with him must have liked
him less. He made his plans swiftly, and generally well; but the doing
of them had to be swift and sure. Like many great men he knew he was
right, but could not stop to reason or argue about his course. He acted
upon the instinct of his genius, with a sure and shining faith in
himself, which must have been hateful to smaller men. In the days
of his later voyages, when he had not the undivided control of his
expedition, he failed, as he never did when he was alone, “with the
ships not pestered with soldiers,” as he once said.

The taking of the castle of Sagres seemed almost an impossibility, so
well did the rocks and steep cliffs defend the fort. Drake himself
commanded the attack on land, and in the end helped to carry and pile
the faggots against the castle gate. The commander was slain, and then
the fort surrendered. Thus Drake took possession of one of the best
places on the coast of Spain for ships to anchor and get water.

Meanwhile, the rest of the fleet had taken and burnt fifty ships laden
with wood and hoops of seasoned wood, for which Santa Cruz was waiting
to make his water-casks. The loss of these did much damage to the
Armada, and helped to ruin it.

On the 10th of May, having disarmed the fort of Sagres by throwing
the big guns over the cliffs into the sea, Drake brought his fleet to
anchor in Cascaes Bay, south of Lisbon. He seems to have judged Lisbon
too strong to attack from the sea. He was prepared to “distress the
ships” had they come out; and he offered battle to Santa Cruz, who,
however, was short of powder and shot, and had no ships ready as yet
for action.

So Drake went back to Sagres to clean his ships and refresh his men.
He then sailed for the Azores. A storm parted the ships, and on the
few that were left the men were anxious to go home. The ship on which
Borough was still a prisoner deserted. Drake believed that Borough was
responsible for this; and, though he was beyond reach, in his anger
Drake sentenced him, with his chief officers, to death as mutineers.

Drake went on with his nine remaining ships, and came upon a splendid
prize, the big _San Felipe_, the greatest ship in all Portugal, richly
laden with spice, china, silk, and chests of gold and jewels. This
prize was valued at nearly a million pounds; and, besides, she carried
secret papers of great value concerning the East India trade.

On the 26th of June, Drake returned home after his brilliant campaign.
Santa Cruz had indeed gone out to chase him, but it was too late.

Borough was not found guilty by the court of law where Drake accused
him; but his grief of mind endured long. Some time after, he wrote
that “he was very fain to ease it as he might, hoping in good time he
should.”




CHAPTER XI

THE GREAT ARMADA


Drake’s raid upon the Spanish coast made it impossible for the Armada
to sail in 1587. But after waiting so long Philip made his preparations
with an almost feverish haste. The death of his great general, Santa
Cruz, hindered his plans very much. Santa Cruz was a commander of
experience and renown, and the man most fitted, both by his rank and
his qualities, to undertake “the enterprise of England.”

The man chosen to succeed him was the Duke of Medina Sidonia, whose
exalted rank seems to have been his chief claim to the difficult place
into which he was thrust by Philip. He had no desire to take the place;
he wrote to Philip and told him quite simply that he was no seaman, and
knew little about naval fighting and less about England. But he was
ordered to take the fleet into the English Channel and take possession
of Margate. He was then to send ships to bring the Duke of Parma and
his army in safety to England, when Parma was to assume the command of
the expedition.

But, after all, the Armada was not ready to sail till July 1588, and
the months between then and January were filled by the English with
preparations for defence. They had to face the difficulties, much
greater then than now, of keeping both men and ships on the seas, and
yet fit for action. Life on board ship tried the men very severely. We
have seen how often sickness broke out among the sailors if they were
kept long to their crowded, unhealthy quarters. The feeding of both
navies seems to have been a task of great difficulty. This was due to
the hurried demand for vast quantities of stores, such as biscuit and
salt meat The Spaniards, too, owing to Drake’s foresight, had lost
their water-casks, and had to depend on new ones of unseasoned wood,
which leaked.

Lord Howard, a cousin of the Queen, was made Lord High Admiral
of England, and Drake was his Vice-Admiral and John Hawkins his
Rear-Admiral. With them served many other famous men, such as Fenner,
Frobisher, Wynter, and Seymour, and many younger men from noble
families. All were working hard, with spirits stretched to an unusual
pitch of endurance. In the letters they wrote about the business in
hand to the Queen and her Ministers of State there is a note of high
courage and defiance; and a distant echo comes down to us from the
dim old letters of all the stir and bustle as the men gathered to the
ships, and of the hum of excitement about the clamouring dockyards. The
shipwrights were working day and night Lord Howard says he has been on
board every ship “where any man may creep,” and thanks God for their
good state, and that “never a one of them knows what a leak means.” Sir
William Wynter tells how badly the ships had suffered in the winter
storms, but adds: “Our ships doth show themselves like gallants here. I
assure you it will do a man’s heart good to behold them; and would to
God the Prince of Parma were upon the seas with all his forces, and we
in the view of them; then I doubt not but that you should hear we would
make his enterprises very unpleasant to him.”

The ships are always spoken of like live creatures, and their personal
histories are well known and remembered. Lord Howard says of his Ark
(which was bought of Sir Walter Raleigh by the Queen): “And I pray you
tell her Majesty from me that her money was well given for the Ark
_Ralegh_, for I think her the odd (only) ship in the world for all
conditions; and truly I think there can no great ship make me change
and go out of her.” And again: “I mean not to change out of her I am in
for any ship that ever was made.”

Drake had “her Majesty’s very good ship the _Revenge_” which was so
famous then and afterwards. Lord Henry Seymour writes from on board
“the _Elizabeth Bonaventure_, the fortunate ship where Sir Francis
Drake received all his good haps.” Howard and Drake, with other
commanders of experience, were of one mind; they wanted to go out and
meet the enemy upon the coasts of Spain, and so prevent the Spanish
fleet from ever reaching England.

Howard pressed this opinion as that of men whom the world judged to
be the wisest in the kingdom. But the Queen was unwilling to send the
fleet away, and she still talked of making peace.

Both the Spaniards and the English were persuaded that God was
fighting with them. Philip told the Duke of Medina Sidonia, that as
the cause was the cause of God, he could not fail. In England Drake
was saying that “the Lord is on our side”; and Fenner wrote to the
Queen: “God mightily defend my gracious Mistress from the raging enemy;
not doubting that all the world shall know and see that her Majesty’s
little army, guided by the finger of God, shall beat down the pride of
His enemies and hers, to His great glory.” Nowadays we do not look upon
our enemies as necessarily the enemies of God.

Howard’s letters show a very noble mind. He grudged no time or labour
in the ordering of his fleet, down to the smallest matters. He is full
of care for the mariners, and is anxious that they should be well paid
and fed. He takes the advice of Drake and the other seamen of greater
experience than himself.

The fleet did at last go out, but was driven back by the winds; and
suddenly, after the fret and worry and strain of all those months,
there is a pause, and Howard writes: “Sir, I will not trouble you
with any long letter; we are at this present otherwise occupied than
with writing. Upon Friday, at Plymouth, I received intelligence that
there was a great number of ships descried off the Lizard: whereupon,
although the wind was very scant, we first warped out of harbour that
night, and upon Saturday turned out very hardly, the wind being at
south-west; and about three of the clock in the afternoon, descried
the Spanish fleet, and did what we could to work for the wind, which
by this morning we had recovered.... At nine of the clock we gave them
fight, which continued until one.... Sir, the captains in her Majesty’s
ships have behaved themselves most bravely and like men hitherto, and
I doubt not will continue, to their great commendation.... Sir, the
southerly wind that brought us back from the coast of Spain brought
them out.”

William Hawkins, then Mayor of Plymouth, writes that the “Spanish fleet
was in view of this town yesternight, and the Lord Admiral passed to
the sea and out of sight.” They could see the fleets fighting, the
English being to windward of the enemy. He was sending out men as fast
as he could find ships to carry them.

There is a legend that Drake and his officers were playing bowls on
Plymouth Hoe when the news that the Armada was in the Channel was
brought to him by the captain of a pinnace. Drake calmly finished his
game, the story says, saying there was time to do that and to beat the
Spaniards too.

As the Spanish ships lay in the English Channel, blinded with the mist
and rain, the Duke sent a boat to get news. Four fishermen of Falmouth
were brought away who had that evening seen the English fleet go out of
Plymouth, “under the charge of the English Admiral and of Drake.”

The Spaniards had come out ready to fight in the old way, in which they
had won so many brilliant victories. They had always fought their naval
battles with great armies on great ships, much as they would fight on
land. The soldiers despised big guns, and liked better the bravery of a
close fight, “with hand-thrusts and push of pike.” The sailors were not
prepared to fight at all, but with the help of slaves they sailed the
big galleys and fighting ships, and the swarm of smaller troop-ships
and store-ships that swelled the numbers of the fleet which carried an
army.

[Illustration: Drake at bowls on Plymouth Hoe]

The numbers of the ships on both sides are now said to have been
not so very unequal. If the Spaniards could have fought in their own
way, they must have been easily victorious. But the English had got the
wind at their back and the enemy in front of them, and being better
masters of their ships, they had the choice, and they chose to fight
at a distance, and never to board the big ships till they were already
helpless.

Their ships were newer, and built on different lines, and could sail
faster. They were smaller than our modern men-of-war, but carried more
guns for their size. They were, as the Spaniards said, “very nimble and
of good steerage, so that the English did with them as they desired.
And our ships being very heavy compared with the lightness of those of
the enemy, it was impossible to come to hand-stroke with them.”

The English ships were manned with sailors and gunners who could both
sail the ships and fight the enemy. The guns were fired at the hulls
of the Spanish ships and not wasted on the enemy’s rigging, which was
harder to aim at.

The fleets met on the 21st of July, and there followed a week of
fighting and of disasters to the Spaniards. Yet as the news of their
coming up the Channel came to those on shore, who watched beside the
beacon fires with anxious hearts, the danger must have seemed little
less fearful than before. Those who viewed the “greatness and hugeness
of the Spanish army” from the sea, considered that the only way to move
them was by fire-ships.

Sidonia had steered his great fleet magnificently through the dangers
of the Channel; he anchored outside Calais to await the answer to the
urgent messages he had sent to the Duke of Parma. But, as we know, the
“Narrow Seas” were well watched by the English, and they were so helped
by the Dutch that Parma never reached the shores of England.

Eight fire-ships were hastily prepared and sent down upon the Spanish
fleet, “all burning fiercely. These worked great mischief among the
Spanish ships (though none of them took fire), for in the panic their
cables and anchors were slipped.”

The great fight took place off Gravelines, on the Flemish coast, where
most of the scattered ships of the Armada had drifted in the general
confusion. The English hastened to take advantage of this confusion,
while Sidonia was forming his fleet again into battle order. They “set
upon the fleet of Spain (led by Sir Francis Drake in the _Revenge_)
and gave them a sharp fight,” while Lord Howard stopped to capture a
helpless ship, the finest, they said, upon the sea. “And that day, Sir
Francis’ ship was riddled with every kind of shot.”

The fight went on from nine in the morning till six at night, when the
Spanish fleet bore away, beaten, towards the north. Howard says that
“after the fight, notwithstanding that our powder and shot was well
near all spent, we set on a brag-countenance and gave them chase as
though we had wanted nothing (or lacked nothing) until we had cleared
our own coast and some part of Scotland of them.”

Drake was appointed to follow the fleet, and he writes, “We have the
army of Spain before us, and mind, with the grace of God, to wrestle
a pull with him. There was never anything pleased me better than the
seeing the enemy flying with a southerly wind to the northwards. God
grant you have a good eye to the Duke of Parma: for with the grace of
God, if we live, I doubt it not but ere it be long so to handle the
matter with the Duke of Sidonia as he shall wish himself at St. Mary
Port among his orange trees.”

At the end of this letter he says, “I crave pardon of your honour for
my haste, for that I had to watch this last night upon the enemy.” And
in another letter to Walsingham he signs himself, “Your honour’s most
ready to be commanded but now half-sleeping Francis Drake.”

Many of the Spanish ships, being so crippled, were wrecked in stormy
weather off the coasts of Scotland and Ireland, which were unknown to
them, and thus the more dangerous. Not half of those who put out to
sea ever reached Spain again. Many men were killed in battle or died
of their wounds, and they were the most fortunate, for others were
drowned, or perished miserably by the hands of the natives of the
coasts. Some who escaped were put to death by the Queen’s orders, and
some lingered in the foul prisons of that time. The instinct of savage
cruelty revives, even in highly civilised races, in time of war, and
spreads, like an infection.

[Illustration: Fighting the Great Armada]

We get a glimpse, in an old list of plunder taken from the Spanish
prisoners, of the brave looks of the vanished host, that included
the flower of Spanish youth and chivalry. There were “breeches and
jerkins of silk, and hose of velvet, all laid over with gold lace,
a pair of breeches of yellow satin, drawn out with cloth of silver,
a leather jerkin, perfumed with amber and laid over with a gold and
silver lace, a jerkin embroidered with flowers, and a blue stitched
taffety hat, with a silver band and a plume of feathers.”

For some time England was haunted by fears that the Armada would return
to her coasts, or that Parma would avenge himself. But the reports of
the many wrecks and of the massacre of Spanish soldiers eased this
present anxiety. And it was well, for fever and sickness broke out
in the English ships, and the men were dying in hundreds, “sickening
one day and dying the next,” as the letters say. The ships had to be
disinfected and many of the men dispersed.




CHAPTER XII

EXPEDITION TO LISBON


The great Armada was scattered, and yet the English did not feel secure
from their enemy. The sight of that fleet so near their shores in “its
terror and majesty,” and the memory of its vast army of well-drilled
soldiers, left a feeling of deep uneasiness in the minds of wise men.
“Sir,” writes Howard to Walsingham, “safe bind, safe find. A kingdom
is a great wager. Sir, you know security is dangerous: and had God not
been our best friend, we should have found it so. Some made little
account of the Spanish force by sea: but I do warrant you, all the
world never saw such a force as theirs was....”

Fortune had favoured England this time, but what if Philip built newer
and lighter ships, and really succeeded in landing his army? They did
not as yet know that Philip had no money to build his ships with, and
rumours of a second invasion were plentiful.

The Spaniards, it is true, had suffered great loss and a crushing
defeat to their pride, but they had not, after all, lost anything that
they already had, but only failed to get something they wanted very
badly to have, and the second kind of loss matters far less than the
first.

But, on the other hand, if the English had been defeated, it is
difficult to think how darkly their history might have been changed.
It was this thought that made the wise men sober in the midst of the
national joy and exultation. They saw how much England, as an island,
must depend for strength and defence upon her navy, and they saw this
much more clearly than before. But Drake had seen it for a long time.
And he had seen something more. He had seen that the English navy must
be ready and able to protect her merchant ships by distressing and
attacking her enemies abroad, and that this was a means of keeping the
enemy so busy abroad that he could not invade the peace of England at
home.

Elizabeth was eager to complete the destruction of Philip’s navy,
now so much crippled. In the spring of 1589 she consented to a new
expedition being fitted out, and appointed Sir John Norreys and Sir
Francis Drake as commanders-in-chief. The two men had fought together
in Ireland. “Black John Norreys,” as he was called, came of a famous
fighting family, and had served in the Lowlands and in France with high
courage and skill. During the Spanish invasion he had been made chief
of the land forces. It is said that in one battle he went on fighting
after three horses had been killed under him. With him went his brother
Edward, and a famous Welsh captain, Sir Roger Williams, was his second
in command.

The objects of the expedition were: first, to distress the King of
Spain’s ships; second, to get possession of some of the islands of the
Azores in order to waylay the treasure ships; and, lastly, to try to
recover for Don Antonio his lost kingdom of Portugal.

Money for this expedition was raised from every possible source. The
Queen gave six royal ships and two pinnaces, money, food, and arms. The
forces were made up of soldiers, gentlemen who wished to make their
fortunes in war, and English and Dutch sailors and recruits, most of
whom were pressed. With this large but mixed army the generals prepared
to face the best-trained soldiers in Europe.

As usual, there were many delays. The ships were not ready to go out,
and much of the food was consumed before they started. More was not to
be had, though Drake and Norreys wrote letter after letter begging for
supplies. The Queen had already begun to regard the expedition with
disfavour. Some days before the fleet sailed, the young Earl of Essex,
her latest Court favourite, had slipped away to sea with Sir Roger
Williams on the _Swiftsure_. He was tired of a courtier’s life, and
wanted to breathe freer air, and to help to fight the Spaniards. The
Queen was very angry, and sent orders for his arrest, accusing Drake
and Norreys of aiding his escape. But they declared they knew nothing
of his plans.

About this time some Flemish ships appeared in Plymouth harbour laden
with barley and wine, and Drake seized their cargoes in the Queen’s
name to victual his fleet, and sailed early in April. The weather was
so rough that several of the ships containing troops were unable to get
beyond the Channel, but even with lesser numbers the crews were short
of food before they reached Spain.

Philip was very ill at this time, and in grave anxiety. He knew
that Drake and the English ships might land on his coasts, that the
French might cross the mountains with an invading force, and that the
Portuguese might arise in rebellion to win back the crown for Don
Antonio. This last danger seemed to Philip the most urgent, and Drake
guessed this, and landed his men on the north-west coast at Corunna.

In doing this he tried to obey the Queen’s orders to distress the
King’s ships, and also, no doubt, to satisfy the craving of his hungry
crews for food and plunder. The lower town of Corunna was taken, and
much wine and food consumed and much wasted. The townsfolk were routed
and put to the sword, and their houses burned. An attempt to take the
upper town failed, but the English were the victors in a sharp battle
which took place some miles from the town, and they thus secured their
retreat to the ships and sailed away.

The presence of Drake on the coasts caused great panic, for his name
and luck had become a terror to the people. Philip felt deeply
insulted that such an attack should be made “by a woman, mistress of
half an island, with the help of a pirate and a common soldier.” In
Spain, as we have seen, the command was always given to gentlemen of
high birth and breeding and title.

Four days after leaving Corunna, the fleet first sighted some of the
missing ships, and also the _Swiftsure_ with the missing Earl, who had
“put himself into the journey against the opinion of the world, and,
as it seemed, to the hazard of his great fortune.” The _Swiftsure_ had
taken six prizes off Cape St. Vincent.

The two generals had from the first wished to go straight to Lisbon,
and it is thought that if they had done so, and thus given the
Spaniards no warning of their coming, they might have had success.
But they were hindered by the Queen’s orders to destroy the shipping
now collected in the northern ports, and chiefly in Santander. After
leaving Corunna, however, they decided in council not to attempt that
port, both soldiers and sailors reasoning that the conditions did not
favour an attack.

They landed next at the Portuguese town of Peniche, which lies about
fifty miles north of Lisbon. It was difficult to land on the surf-bound
coast, and some of the boats were upset and battered. At last, Essex
sprang into the waves and waded ashore with his soldiers and climbed
the steep cliffs. The commandant, thus surprised, willingly surrendered
to Antonio as his lawful king, “The king” soon had a following of
peasants and friars, but neither nobles nor soldiers came to help him.
He was eager to march to Lisbon, where he thought he was sure of a
welcome. Norreys resolved to march there overland. Drake, it is said,
would have liked better to attack the town from the sea in his usual
daring but successful fashion. But the soldiers’ plan carried the
day; and leaving some ships at Peniche, Drake promised, if he could,
to bring the fleet to meet them at Cascaes, at the mouth of the river
Tagus, south of Lisbon.

There, when he arrived, he waited, not liking to venture up the river
without knowing where the soldiers were, and not liking to quit the
sea, where he could give them the means of retreat if necessary.
For this he was very much blamed by the soldiers at the time, and
afterwards when he got home. The point is still disputed.

Meanwhile the army was encamped outside the walls of Lisbon, but
they never got inside. The Portuguese refused to join Don Antonio’s
party, and the Spanish governor kept the gates shut in a grim and
heroic defence. The English sailors were sick and hungry; they had had
no exercise on board ship to keep them healthy, and were exhausted
with the heat. The stores and guns were on the ships with Drake. So,
reluctantly, they left the suburbs of Lisbon and marched to Cascaes,
where they embarked, not without some loss, and sailed away.

While they were still disputing in the councils, a fleet of German
ships were sighted, and most of them secured. They were carrying corn
and stores to Spain, against the rules of war, which bind countries not
concerned in the quarrel to help neither foe. So the English seized
sixty ships and the stores, both of which had been destined to furnish
the new Armada of Spain.

Next came into view some English ships with supplies, but also with
angry letters from the Queen; in answer to which Essex was sent home
bearing the news that the expedition, though diminished by sickness and
death, still meant to sail to the Azores.

On June the 8th a wind had scattered the fleet, and suddenly left it
becalmed. The Lisbon galleys came out and cut off four English ships.

The winds continued to prevent the fleet from going towards the Azores,
and all this time hundreds of sick and wounded men were dying. After
seventeen days at sea, they landed at the town of Vigo and burned it,
and laid waste the country round. At length storms and sickness and
ill-fortune drove them home, and the expedition, woefully shrunken,
straggled miserably back. Don Antonio died, poor and forsaken, some
years later. The English had done a considerable amount of damage, but
at great cost to themselves; for the loss of life was terrible, and
that of money very considerable. Both Norreys and Drake were called
upon to account for their failure, and at the time Drake got the most
of the blame. Perhaps he was more hardly judged because failure had
never come near him before, and his successes had always been so
brilliant. His best friends at Court were dead, and for five years he
was not asked to act in the Queen’s service. So five years of his life
which should have been the most active were spent in retirement, if not
actually in “disgrace with fortune and men’s eyes.”

The war was carried on upon the old lines of distressing the King’s
ships, but with very poor success. After Drake’s voyage round the
world, which encouraged other adventurers and treasure-seekers, the
Spanish treasure-fleet had been carefully guarded. This was done by
strongly fortifying the coast stations, by providing an armed escort,
and a service of light ships, which went frequently to and fro with
letters of advice and warning from the Indies to Spain.

Drake had ruined this defence in 1585, and in 1588 again many of the
guard-ships had to be used in the service of the Armada. A really
strong English fleet might at this time have stayed the treasure, but
Philip continued to gather in his gold, and also began, with splendid
patience, to rebuild his navy. In 1591 a royal squadron was sent
out under Lord Thomas Howard, and the great battle of Sir Richard
Grenville on the _Revenge_ was fought, “the fight of the one and the
fifty-three,” with the loss of that ship and the victory of the Spanish
fleet. The Queen made a fighting alliance with Henry the Fourth of
France, who was the enemy of Philip, and this she felt would help to
keep him out of England. Philip was now trying to establish a fortified
station on the north coast of Brittany, from which his new Armada might
be despatched.




CHAPTER XIII

THE LAST VOYAGE


Drake had settled in Buckland Abbey, which he had bought from Sir
Richard Grenville. He helped to prepare and furnish ships for some
of the different excursions against Spain, and he spent much time on
schemes to improve Plymouth. He paid to have pure water brought to the
town from many miles away; he had flour-mills built, that the sailors
might have good biscuits provided for them, and he overlooked the
work of fortifying Plymouth, and making it in all ways a strong naval
station.

As the danger of a fresh invasion by Philip grew more threatening,
Drake was called to Court again, and it was about this time that he
gave to the Queen his written story of the voyage to Nombre de Dios.

In 1595 a fresh expedition was arranged for the Indies, and after the
usual bewildering indecision at Court, and difference of views and
plans (delays that proved fatal to an excursion whose proper nature was
to be swift and secret, and above all things powerful), on August 28,
1598, Sir Francis Drake started on his last voyage.

The story of the expedition begins by saying that “the Spaniard leaves
no means untried to turn the peace of England into a cursed thraldom,
and this is shown by his attempts, and also by his greedy desires to be
our neighbour in Brittany, to gain so near us a quiet and safe road for
his fleet. So the forces were sent to invade him in that kingdom from
whence he has feathers to fly to the top of his high desires.

“The invasion was glorious spoken of long before it was sent, and Sir
Francis Drake was named General. For his very name was a great terror
to all in those parts, and he had done many things in those countries
to his honourable fame and profit. But entering into them as the Child
of Fortune, it may be that his self-willed and peremptory (despotic)
command was doubted, and that caused her Majesty, as it should seem,
to join Sir John Hawkins as second in command. He was an old, wary man,
and so leaden-footed” (or slow in action) “that Drake’s meat would be
eaten before his was cooked. They were men of such different natures
that what one desired the other commonly opposed. The journey had so
glorious a name that crowds of volunteers came to them, and they had
to discharge such few as they had pressed. Yet many times it was very
doubtful if the voyage would be made, till at last the news came of a
ship of the King of Spain, which was driven into Puerto Rico with two
millions and a half of treasure. So her Majesty commanded them to haste
their departure, which they did with twenty-seven ships.”

The generals began to disagree soon after. Drake wanted to begin with
an attack upon the Canaries, and Hawkins thought it unnecessary and
unwise; and, as the story says, “the fire which lay hidden in their
stomachs began to break forth.”

It was five years since Drake had fought with his old enemies. He did
not know how much stronger the Spanish defence at sea had become,
owing to the lessons he had given them, nor how complete Philip had
made the protection of the traffic and the treasure-ships. He was to
see this first at the Canary Islands, where he tried, and failed, to
make one of his old surprise visits.

The fleet sailed on, and anchored on the 29th of October, for water,
at Guadeloupe. The _Delight_ was the last of the ships to arrive the
next day, and she brought news that the _Francis_, a small ship of the
company, was taken by five Spanish ships, which had been sent out by
Philip to bring home the wrecked ship at Puerto Rico. This was a great
misfortune, because Sir John Hawkins had made known to all the company,
“even to the basest mariners,” the places whither they were bound,
naming Puerto Rico, Nombre de Dios, and Panama. Now the Spaniards would
learn this from their prisoners, and at once send warning to the coasts.

Drake wanted to give chase at once, but Hawkins was old and cautious,
and desired to stay and mount his guns, take in water, set up his
pinnaces, and make all things ready to meet the Spaniards.

And Sir John prevailed, “for that he was sickly, Sir Francis being
loath to breed his further disquiet.” It took four days to make those
preparations, and always the sickness of Sir John increased. On the
12th of October Drake brought the fleet up by a secret way to Puerto
Rico, and about three o’clock that afternoon Sir John Hawkins died.

In the evening, as Drake sat at supper, his chair was shot from under
him, and two of his officers received their death wounds from the
Spanish guns. The ships had to move away. The next night the English
made a desperate effort to fire the five ships that had come for the
treasure. Four of them were set alight, but only one was burnt, and by
the great light she gave the Spaniards “played upon the English with
their ordnance and small shot as if it had been fair day,” and sunk
some of the boats.

Next day Drake, undaunted by failure, determined to try and take his
whole fleet boldly into the harbour and storm the place. But the
Spaniards, guessing his desperate intention, and fearing his great
courage, sunk four ships laden with merchandise and armed, as they
were, and so, at a great sacrifice, blocked the way for the English.

Drake took counsel with the soldiers as to the strength of the place,
but most of them thought it too great a risk, though one or two were
for trying it. “The General presently said: ‘I will bring you to twenty
places far more wealthy and easier to be gotten;’ and hence we went on
the 15th. And here,” says the teller of the story, “I left all hope of
good success.”

On the way to Nombre de Dios they stopped at Rio de la Hacha, where
Drake had first been wronged by the Spaniards. This town they took with
little difficulty, and some treasure was won.

On December 27th they were at Nombre de Dios, which they took with
small resistance. But the people had been warned, and had fled and
hidden their treasure, and the town was left very bare. So they
resolved to “hasten with speed to Panama.” The soldiers were under the
command of Sir Thomas Baskerville, who had been a brave fighter against
the Spaniards before now in Holland and France. They started to go
to Panama by the old road well known to Drake. He, meanwhile, stayed
with the ships and burned the town. He was about to sail nearer the
river when news came that the soldiers were returning. The road was
only too strongly defended now, and Baskerville’s men were driven back
with severe loss. They were a small force, and weak with the long march
through heavy rains; their powder was wet and their food scarce and
sodden, and Baskerville decided upon a retreat. “This march,” says the
story, “had made many swear that they would never buy gold at such a
price again.”

Drake, being disappointed of his highest hopes, now called a council to
decide what was to be done. All the towns had been forewarned, and told
“to be careful and look well to themselves, for that Drake and Hawkins
were making ready in England to come upon them.” And now the company
seem to have regarded their leader with some bitterness, as his brave
promises failed, and the places that he used to know were found to be
changed and formidable. Now they had to rely “upon cards and maps, he
being at these parts at the farthest limit of his knowledge.” But
still he proposed fresh places that had the golden sound of riches in
their names, and gallant Baskerville said he would attempt both, one
after another.

But the winds drove them instead to a “waste island, which is counted
the sickliest place in the Indies, and there died many of the men, and
victuals began to grow scarce. Here,” says Maynarde, who writes the
story, “I was often private with our General, and I demanded of him
why he so often begged me, being in England, to stay with him in these
parts as long as himself.... He answered me with grief, protesting
that he was as ignorant of the Indies as myself, and that he never
thought any place could be so changed, as it were, from a delicious
and pleasant arbour into a waste and desert wilderness: besides the
variableness and changes of the wind and weather, so stormy and
blustrous as he never saw it before. But he most wondered that since
his coming out of England he never saw sail worth giving chase unto.
Yet, in the greatness of his mind, he would, in the end, conclude with
these words: ‘It matters not, man; God hath many things in store for
us. And I know many means to do her Majesty good service and to make us
rich, for we must have gold before we reach England.’

“And since our return from Panama he never carried mirth nor joy in his
face, yet no man he loved must show he took thought thereof. And he
began to grow sickly. And now so many of the company were dying of the
sickness, and food was getting so scarce, that at last he resolved ‘to
depart and take the wind as God sent it.’”

But the lurking fever in the swamp had done its work, and on January
28, 1596, after a brief fight with illness and death, Drake “yielded up
his spirit like a Christian to his Creator quietly in his cabin.”

“The General being dead,” we are told, “most men’s hearts were bent to
hasten for England as soon as they might. ‘Fortune’s Child,’ they
said, ‘was dead; things would not fall into their mouths, nor riches be
their portions, how dearly soever they adventured for them.’”

But Sir Thomas Baskerville assumed the command and took the remains of
the fleet in his charge, and did not return home till he had met the
Spaniards and fought a battle with them at sea.

Before the fleet left Puerto Rico he burned that port, and sunk two of
the ships no longer needed, and all the prizes. And there, a league
from the shore, under seas, he left the body of Sir Francis Drake,
heavily freighted with death and silence. But I like to think that his
soul went a-roving again among the stars.

                                THE END


                  Printed by BALLANTYNE, HANSON & CO.
                          Edinburgh & London




TRANSCRIBER’S NOTES

  --Illustrations have been moved up or down from their original
    positions to avoid interrupting the flow of adjacent paragraphs.
  --Archaic and variant spellings have been retained.
  --Hyphenation across this e-text are as originally typeset.