The verses attributed to this illustrious man are few, and the
authenticity of some of them is doubtful. No one, however, who has
studied his career, or read his 'History of the World,' can deny him
the title of a great poet.
We cannot be expected, in a work of the present kind, to enlarge on a
career so well known as that of Sir Walter Kaleigh. He was born in 1552,
at Hayes Farm, in Devonshire, and descended from an old family there. He
went early to Oxford, but finding its pursuits too tame for his active
and enterprising spirit, he left it, and became a soldier at seventeen.
For six years he fought on the Protestant side in France, besides serving
a campaign in the Netherlands. In 1579, he went a voyage, which proved
disastrous, to Newfoundland, in company with his half-brother, Sir
Humphrey Gilbert. There can be no doubt that this early apprenticeship
to war and navigation was of material service to the future explorer and
historian. In 1580, he fought in Ireland against the Earl of Desmond,
who had raised a rebellion there, and on one occasion is said to have
defended a ford of Shannon against a whole band of wild Irish rebels,
till the stream ran purple with their blood and his own. With the Lord-
Deputy, Lord Grey de Wilton, he got into a dispute, and to settle it came
over to England. Here high favour awaited him. His handsome appearance,
his graceful address, his ready wit and chivalric courtesy, dashed with
a fine poetic enthusiasm, (see them admirably pictured in 'Kenilworth,')
combined to exalt him in the estimation of Queen Elizabeth. On one
occasion he flung his rich plush cloak over a miry part of the way, that
she might pass on unsoiled. By this delicate piece of enacted flattery he
'spoiled a cloak and made a fortune.' The Queen sent him, along with some
other courtiers, to attend the Duke of Anjou, who had in vain solicited
her hand, back to the Netherlands. In 1584, he fitted two ships, and sent
them out for the discovery and settlement of those parts of North America
not already appropriated by Christian states, and the next year there
followed a fleet of seven ships under the command of Sir Richard
Grenville, Raleigh's kinsman. The attempt to colonise America at that
time failed, but two important things were transplanted through means of
the expedition from Virginia to Britain, namely, tobacco and the potato,
--the former of which has ever since been offered up in smoky sacrifice to
Raleigh's memory throughout the whole world, and the latter of which has
become the most valuable of all our vegetable esculents. Raleigh first
planted the potato in Ireland, a country of which it has long been the
principal food. A ludicrous story is told about this. It is said that he
had invited a number of his neighbours to an entertainment, in which the
new root was to form a prominent part, but when the feast began Raleigh
found, to his horror, that the servants had boiled the plums, a most
unsavoury mess, and immediately, we suppose, 'tabulae solvuntur risu.'
In 1584 the Queen had knighted him, and shortly after she granted him
certain lucrative monopolies, and an estate in Ireland, in addition to
one he had possessed for some years. In 1588, he was of material service
as one of Her Majesty's Council of War, formed to resist the Spanish
Armada, and as one of the volunteers who joined the English fleet with
ships of their own. Next year he accompanied a number of his countrymen
in an expedition, which had it in view to restore Don Antonio to the
throne of Portugal, of which the Spaniards had deprived him. On his
return he lost caste considerably, both with the Queen and country, by
taking bribes, and otherwise abusing the influence he had acquired at
Court. Yet, about this time, his active mind was projecting what he
called an 'Office of Address,'--a plan for facilitating the designs of
literary and scientific men, promoting intercourse between them, gaining,
in short, all those objects which are now secured by our literary
associations and philosophical societies. Raleigh was eminently a man
before his age, but, alas! his age was too far behind him.
While visiting Ireland, after his expedition to Portugal, he contracted
an intimacy with Spenser. (See our 'Life of Spenser,' vol. ii.) In 1592,
he commanded a large naval expedition, destined to attack Panama and
intercept the Spanish Plate-fleet, but was recalled by the Queen, not,
however, till he had seized on an important prize, and, in common
parlance, had 'feathered his nest.' On his return he excited Her
Majesty's wrath, by an intrigue with Elizabeth Throgmorton, one of the
maids of honour, and, although Raleigh afterwards married her, the Queen
imprisoned both the offending parties for some months in the Tower.
Spenser is believed to allude to this in the 4th Book of his great poem.
(See vol. in. of our edition, p. 88.) Even after he was released from
the Tower, Raleigh had to leave the Court in disgrace; instead, however,
of wasting time in vain regrets, he undertook, at his own expense, an
expedition against Guiana, where he captured the city of San Joseph, and
which he occupied in the Queen's name. After his return he published an
account of his expedition, more distinguished by glowing eloquence than
by rigid regard to truth. In 1596, having in some measure regained the
Queen's favour, he was appointed to a command in the expedition against
Cadiz, under the Earl of Essex. In this, as well as in the expedition
against the Spanish Plate-fleet the next year, he won laurels, but was
unfortunate enough to excite the jealousy of his Commander-in-Chief.
When the favourite got into trouble, Raleigh eagerly joined in the hunt,
wrote a letter to Cecil urging him to the destruction of Essex, and
witnessed his execution from a window in the Armoury. This is
undoubtedly a deep blot on the escutcheon of our hero.
Cecil had been glad of Raleigh's aid in ruining Essex, but he bore him
no good-will otherwise, and is said to have poisoned James, who now
succeeded to the English throne, against him. Assuredly the new King was
no friend of Raleigh's. Stimulated by Cecil, after first depriving him
of his office of Captain of the Guards, he brought him to trial for high
treason. He was accused of conspiring to establish Popery, to dethrone
the King, and to put the crown on the head of Arabella Stewart. Sir
Edward Coke, the Attorney-General, led the accusation, and disgraced
himself by heaping on Raleigh's head every foul epithet, calling him
'viper,' 'damnable atheist,' 'monster,' 'traitor,' 'spider of hell,'
&c., and by his violence, although to his own surprise, as he never
expected to gain his cause in full, he browbeat the jury to bring in a
verdict of high treason.
Raleigh's defence was a masterpiece of temper, dignity, strength of
reasoning, and eloquence, and his enemies were ashamed of the decision
to which they had driven the jury. He was therefore reprieved, and
committed to the Tower, where his wife was allowed to bear him company,
and where his youngest son was born. His estates were, in general,
preserved to him, but Carr, the infamous minion of the King, under some
pretext of a flaw in the conveyance of it by Raleigh to his son, seized
upon his manor of Sherborne. In the Tower he continued for twelve years.
These years his industry and genius rendered the happiest probably of
his life. Immured in the
'towers of Julius, London's lasting shame,
By many a foul and midnight murder fed,'
his winged soul soared away, like the dove of the Deluge, over the wild
ocean of the past. The Tower confined his body, but this great globe the
world seemed too little for the sweep of his spirit. To fill up the vast
void which a long imprisonment created around him, and to shew that his
powers retained all their elasticity, he projected a work on the largest
scale, and with the noblest purpose--'The History of the World.' In this
undertaking he found literary men ready to lend him their aid. A hundred
hands were generously stretched out to gather materials, and to bring
them to the captive in the Tower. Cart-loads of books were sent. One
Burrell, formerly his chaplain, assisted him in much of the critical and
chronological drudgery. Rugged Ben Jonson sent in a piece of rugged
writing on the Punic War, which Raleigh polished and set as a carved
stone in his magnificent temple. Some have, on this account, sought to
detract from the merit of the author. As if ever an architect could rear
a building without hodmen! But in Raleigh's case the hodmen were Titans.
'The best wits in England assisted him in his undertaking;' and what a
compliment was this to the strength and stature of the master-builder!
This great work was never finished. The part completed comprehended only
the period from the Creation to the Downfall of the Macedonian Empire
--one hundred and seventy years before Christ. He tarries too long amidst
the misty and mythical ages which precede the dawn of history; his
speculations on the site of the original Paradise, on the Flood, &c.,
are more ingenious than instructive; but his descriptions of the Greek
battles--his account of the rise of Rome--the extensive erudition, on
all subjects displayed in the book--the many acute, profound, and
eloquently-expressed observations which are sprinkled throughout--and
the style, massive, dignified, rich, and less involved in structure than
that of almost any of his contemporaries--shall always rank it amongst
the great literary treasures of the language. It was published in 1614.
Besides it, Raleigh was the author of various works, all full of
sagacious thought and brilliant imagery, such as 'The Advice to a Son on
the Choice of a Wife,' 'The Sceptic,' 'Maxims of State,' &c. At last he
was released by the advance of a large sum of money to Villiers, Duke of
Buckingham, James's favourite; and, to retrieve his fortunes, projected
another expedition to America. James granted him a patent, under the
Great Seal, for making a settlement in Guiana, but ungenerously did not
grant him a pardon for the sentence which had been passed on him for
treason. He set sail, 1617, in a ship built by himself, called the
_Destiny_, with eleven other vessels. Having reached the Orinoco, he
despatched a portion of his forces to attack the new Spanish settlement
of St Thomas. This was captured, with the loss of Raleigh's eldest son.
The expected plunder, however, proved of little value; and Sir Walter
having in vain attempted to induce his captains to attack other
settlements of the Spaniards, was compelled to return home--his golden
dreams dissolved, and his prophetic soul forewarning him of the doom
that awaited him on his native shores. In July 1618, he landed at
Plymouth; 'whence,' says Howell, in his 'Familiar Letters,' 'he thought
to make an escape, and some say he tampered with his body by physic to
make him look sickly, that he might be the more pitied, and permitted to
lie in his own house.' James was at this time seeking the hand of the
Infanta for his son Charles, and was naturally disposed to side with the
Spanish cause. He was, besides, stirred up by the Spanish ambassador,
Count Gondomar, who sent to desire an audience with His Majesty, and
said, that he had only one word to say to him. 'The King wondered what
could be delivered in one word, whereupon, when he came before him, he
said only, "Pirates! pirates! pirates!" and so departed.'
Raleigh consequently was arrested and sent back to his old lodgings in
the Tower. He was not tried, as might have been expected, for the new
offence of waging war against a power then at amity with England, but
James, with consummate meanness and cruelty, determined to revive his
former sentence. He was brought before the King's Bench, where his old
enemy, Sir Edward Coke, now sat as Chief Justice, and officially
condemned him to death. His language, however, was considerably modified
to the prisoner. He said, 'I know you have been valiant and wise, and I
doubt not but you retain both these virtues, for now you shall have
occasion to use them. Your faith hath heretofore been questioned, but I
am resolved you are a good Christian; for your book, which is an
admirable work, doth testify as much. I would give you counsel, but I
know you can apply unto yourself far better than I can give you. Yet
will I (with the good neighbour in the Gospel, who, finding one in the
way wounded and distressed, poured oil into his wounds and refreshed
him) give unto you the oil of comfort, though, in respect that I am a
minister of the law, mixed with vinegar.' Such was Coke's comfort to the
brave and gifted man who stood untrembling before his bar.
On the 26th of October 1618, the day after his condemnation, Raleigh was
beheaded. He met his fate with dignity and composure. Having addressed
the multitude in vindication of his conduct, he took up the axe, and
said to the sheriff, 'This is a sharp medicine, but a sound cure for all
diseases.' He told the executioner that he would give the signal by
lifting up his hand, and 'then,' he said, 'fear not, but strike home.'
He next laid himself down, but was asked by the executioner to alter the
position of the head. 'So the heart be right,' he replied, 'it is no
matter which way the head lies.' The headsman became uncertain and
tremulous when the signal was given, whereupon Ealeigh exclaimed, 'Why
dost thou not strike? Strike, man!' and by two blows that gallant,
witty, and richly-stored head was severed from the body. He was in his
sixty-fifth year. He had the night before composed the following verse:--
Even such is Time, that takes on trust
Our youth, our joys, our all we have,
And pays us but with age and dust;
Who in the dark and silent grave,
When we have wander'd all our ways,
Shuts up the story of our days.'
Thus perished Sir Walter Raleigh. There has been ever one opinion as to
the breadth and brilliance of his genius. His powers were almost
universal in their range. He commented on Scripture with the ingenuity
of a Talmudist, and wrote love verses (see the lines in Campbell's
'Specimens,' entitled 'Dulcina') with the animus and graceful levity of
a Thomas Moore. He was deep at once in 'all the learning of the
Egyptians,' and in that of the Greeks and Romans. In his large mind lay
dreams of golden lands, which even Australia has not yet fully verified,
alongside of maxims of the most practical wisdom. He was learned in all
that had been; well-informed as to all that was; and speculative and
hopeful as to all that might be and was yet to be. Disgust at the
scholastic methods, blended with the adventurous character of his mind,
and perhaps also with some looseness of moral principle, led him at one
time to the brink of universal scepticism; but disappointment, sorrow,
and the solitude of the Tower, made him a sadder and wiser man, and he
returned to the verities of the Christian religion. The stains on his
character seem to have arisen chiefly from his position. He was, like
some greater and some smaller men of eminence, undoubtedly, to a certain
extent, a brilliant adventurer--a class to whom justice is seldom done,
and against whom every calumny is believed. He was a _novus homo_, in an
age of more than common aristocratic pretence; sprang, indeed, from an
ancient family, but possessing nothing himself, save his cloak, his
sword, his tact, and his genius. We all know how, in later times, such
spirits, kindred in many points to Raleigh, in some superior, and in
others inferior--as Burke, Sheridan, and Canning--were used, less for
their errors of temper or of life, than because they had gained immense
influence, not by birth or favour, but by the force of extraordinary
talent and no less remarkable address. Raleigh, however, was undoubtedly
imprudent in a high degree. He had once or twice outraged common
morality; his enemies were constantly accusing him of gasconading and of
'pride.' His success at first was too early and too easy, and hence a
reverse might have been anticipated as certain and as remarkable as his
rise had been. His fall ultimately is understood to have been
precipitated by the base complicity of James with the Spaniards, who
were informed by the King of Raleigh's motions in America, and prepared
to counteract them, as well as by the loud-sounding invectives and legal
lies of the unscrupulous instruments of his tyrannical power. With all
his faults and follies, (of 'crimes,' it has been justly said, Raleigh
can hardly be accused,) he stood high in that crowd of giants who
illustrated the reign of the Amazonian Queen. What an age it was! Bacon,
with still brighter powers, and far darker and meaner faults than
Raleigh, was sitting on the woolsack in body, while his spirit was
presiding over the half-born philosophies of the future, and beholding
the cold rod of Induction blossom in an after-day into the Aaronic
flowers and fruits of a magnificent science; Cecil was nodding out
wisdom or transcendental craft in the Cabinet; Sir Philip Sidney was
carrying the spirit of 'Arcadia' into the field of battle; Spenser was
dreaming his one beautiful lifelong Dream; and Shakspeare was holding up
his calm mirror to the heart of man and the universe of nature; while,
on the prow of the British vessel, carrying on those lofty spirits and
enterprises, there appeared a daring mariner, the Poet and 'Shepherd of
the Ocean,' with bright eye, sanguine countenance, step treading the
deck like a throne, and look contemplating the sunset, as if it were the
dawning, and the Evening, as if it were the Morning Star. It was the
hopeful and the brilliant Raleigh, who, while he 'opened up to Europe
the New World, was the historian of the Old.' Alas that this illustrious
'Marinere' was doomed to a life so troubled and a death so dreadful, and
that the glory of one of England's prodigies is for ever bound up with
the disgrace of one of England's and Scotland's princes!