But it is really in the lesser sea encounters, though they probably
had just as great results, that we become enthralled by Drake's
adventurous voyages. The Armada affair was more like the battle of
Trafalgar, one of the differences being that in the latter engagement
the Spanish ships did not risk going far into the open sea, but wisely
kept Cadiz open for retreat, which they availed themselves of after
receiving a dreadful pounding. Drake's voyage in the _Pelican_
excelled anything that had ever been accomplished by previous sea
rovers, and his expedition to the West Indies was a great feat. He
always had trouble with Queen Elizabeth about money when organizing
his voyages. Her Spanish brother-in-law's power was always in her
thoughts. He never allowed her to forget that if he were provoked he
would invade England, and notwithstanding her retort that England had
a long arm which he would do well to fear, her courage alternated with
some nervousness at times. Elizabeth was not so much concerned about
his threat of excommunication of her as the sly tricks in conjunction
with the Pope in spreading the spirit of rebellion in Ireland, and in
other ways conspiring against her. Her mood was at one time to defy
him, and at another conciliatory and fearful lest her pirate chiefs
should do anything to provoke Spanish susceptibilities. Drake was much
hampered by her moods when he wanted to get quickly to business, and
never lost an opportunity of slipping out of her reach when his
eloquence on the acquisition of untold wealth and the capture of some
of Philip's distant colonies had appealed to her boundless avarice and
made her conscience easy. His expedition to the West Indies might
never have been undertaken had he not been a dare-devil fellow, to
whom Burleigh's wink was as good as a nod to be off. He slipped out of
port unknown to her, and his first prize was a large Spanish ship
loaded with salt fish. He pounced upon her after passing Ushant, and
the excellent cargo was suitably distributed amongst the fleet.
There were 25 privateers, and a company of 2,500 men on this
expedition. All were volunteers, and represented every grade of
society, high and low. There was never any difficulty in getting a
supply of men. On this occasion the applications largely outnumbered
the posts available. Drake could always depend upon volunteers, and,
like all men of superb action, he had no liking for conscription. He
knew that in the performance and carrying out of great deeds (and
nearly all of his were terrific) it is men aflame with courage and
enthusiasm that carry the day, and take them as a whole, conscripts
are never wholehearted. The two great characteristics of the British
race--initiative and endurance--are due to this burning flame of
voluntarism.
The West India expedition was organized and all expenses guaranteed by
private individuals. The capital was £60,000, and its allocation was
£40,000 for expenses and £20,000 to be distributed amongst those who
had volunteered to serve. Both men and officers had signed on without
any stipulation for wages. They knew they were out for a piratical
cruise, and welcomed any danger, great or small, that would give them
a chance of making it not only a monetary success, but one that would
give Spanish autocracy another shattering blow. These ancient mariners
never trifled with life, and no sombre views or fatal shadows
disturbed their spirited ambition or caused them to shrink from their
strenuous and stupendous work. They went forth in their cockleshell
fleet as full of hope and confidence as those who are accustomed to
sail and man a transatlantic liner of the present day. Some of their
vessels were but little larger than a present-day battleship's tender.
Neither roaring forties nor Cape Horn hurricanes intimidated them. It
is only when we stop to think, that we realize how great these
adventurers were, and how much we owe to their sacred memories.
In addition to being ridiculously small and shabby in point of
efficiency in rigging, sails, and general outfit, it will always be a
mystery how it was that so few were lost by stress of weather or even
ordinary navigable risks. They were veritable boxes in design, and
their rig alone made it impossible for them to make rapid passages,
even if they had wished to do so. As I write these lines, and think of
my own Western Ocean experiences in well-designed, perfectly equipped,
large and small sailing vessels during the winter hurricane months,
when the passages were made literally under water and every liquid
mountain seemed to forebode immediate destruction, it taxes my
nautical knowledge to understand how these inferior and smaller craft
which Drake commanded did not succumb to the same elements that have
carried superior vessels in later years to their doom. One reason that
occurs to me is that they were never deeply laden, and they were
accustomed to ride hurricanes out when they had plenty of sea room at
their sea anchors.
But nothing can detract from what our generation may describe as their
eccentric genius in combining navigation with piracy and naval and
military art. Talk about "human vision"! What is the good of it if it
turns out nothing but unrestrained confusion? The men of the period I
am writing about had real "vision," and applied it with accuracy
without disorganizing the machinery of life and making the world a
miserable place to live in. They were all for country and none for
self.
After the capture of the Spanish ship and the appropriation of her
cargo of fish, Drake's fleet went lounging along towards Vigo. In due
course he brought his ships to anchor in the harbour, and lost no time
in coming in contact with Don Pedro Bendero, the Spanish governor, who
was annoyed at the British Admiral's unceremonious appearance. Don
Pedro said that he was not aware that his country was at war with
Britain. Drake quickly disillusioned him, and demanded, "If we are not
at war, why have English merchants been arrested?" Don Pedro said an
order had come for their release. Drake landed forthwith a portion of
his force, and seeing that he meant business that foreboded trouble,
the governor sent him wine, fruit, and other luxurious articles of
food in abundance. The ships were anchored in a somewhat open
roadstead, so Drake resolved to take them farther up the waterway
where they would lie comfortably, no matter from what direction the
threatening storm might break. But he had another shrewd object in
view, which was to make a beginning in acquiring any of the valuable
and treasured possessions adorning the churches. A trusted officer who
was in his confidence, and a great admirer of his wisdom and other
personal qualities, was sent to survey the passage and to find a
suitable anchorage. He was a man of enterprise, with a strong dislike
to the Roman Catholic faith, and never doubted that he was perfectly
justified in relieving the churches of plate and other valuables.
These were, in his eyes, articles of idolatry that no man of puritanic
and Protestant principles could refrain from removing and placing
under the safe keeping of his revered chief, who was no more averse to
robbing a church than he was to robbing a ship carrying gold or fish.
As the vessel in charge of this intrepid officer, whose name was
Carlile, approached the town where it was proposed to anchor the fleet
the inhabitants fled, taking with them much of the church plate and
other things which the British had covetously thought an appropriate
prize of theirs. Carlile, being a man of resource, soon laid hold of
other church treasure, which amply compensated for the loss of that
which was carried off by the fleeing inhabitants at the mouth of the
harbour. The day following Christopher Carlile's satisfactory survey
the fleet was anchored off the town. The sight of it threw the whole
district into panic. A pompous governor of Galicia hastened to Vigo,
and on his arrival there he took fright at the number of ships and the
dreaded name of the pirate chief who was in command. It would be
futile to show fight, so he determined to accommodate himself to the
Admiral's terms, which were that he should have a free hand to
replenish the fleet with water and provisions, or any other odds and
ends, without interference. This being accomplished, he agreed to
sail, and no doubt the governor thought he had made a judicious
bargain in getting rid of him so easily. But Drake all the time had
the Spanish gold fleet in his mind. Sacrifices must be made in order
that it may be captured, so off he went for the Cape de Verde islands,
and found when he got there that the treasure-ships had arrived and
sailed only a few hours before. The disappointment was, according to
custom, taken with Christian composure. He had the aptitude of
switching his mind from one form of warfare to another. As I have
said, he would just as soon attack and plunder a city as a church or a
ship. Drake had missed the gold fleet, so he turned his attention to
the treasures of Santiago. When the governor and population were made
aware that the distinguished visitor to their island was the terrible
"El Draque," they and their spiritual advisers as usual flew to the
mountains, without neglecting to take their money and priceless
possessions with them. Drake looted as much as was left in the city of
wine and other valuables, but he got neither gold nor silver, and
would probably have left Santiago unharmed but for the horrible murder
of one of his sailor-boys, whose body was found hacked to pieces. This
settled the doom of the finest built city in the Old World. "El
Draque" at once set fire to it and burnt it to ashes, with that
thoroughness which characterized all such dealings in an age when
barbaric acts justified more than equivalent reprisals.
It would have been a wiser course for the governor to have treated for
the ransom of the town than to have murdered a poor sailor lad who was
innocently having a stroll. It is balderdash to talk of the Spaniards
as being too proud to treat with a person whom they believed to be
nothing better than a pirate. The Spaniards, like other nationalities,
were never too proud to do anything that would strengthen or maintain
their supremacy. Their apparent pride in not treating with Drake at
Santiago and on other rare occasions was really the acme of terror at
hearing his name; there was neither high honour nor grandee dignity
connected with it. As to Philip's kingly pride, it consisted in
offering a special reward of £40,000 to have Elizabeth's great sailor
assassinated or kidnapped. There were many to whom the thought of the
bribe was fascinating. Numerous attempts were made, but whenever the
assassins came within sound of his name or sight of him or his ships
they became possessed of involuntary twitchy sensations, and fled in a
delirium of fear, which was attributed to his being a magician.
As soon as Drake had avenged the sailor-boy's murder he sailed for the
West Indies. When he got into the hot latitudes the plague of yellow
fever appeared, and nearly three hundred of his men died in a few
days. Arriving at Dominica, they found the Caribs had a deadly hatred
of the Spanish, and when they learned that the British were at war
with Spain they offered to prescribe a certain cure for yellow jack
which was eminently effectual. After disinfecting the ships, and
getting supplied with their requirements, the fleet left for San
Domingo, via St. Kitts, which was uninhabited at that time. Domingo
was one of the most beautiful and most wealthy islands in the world.
Columbus and his brother, Diego, are buried in the cathedral there.
The population believed themselves to be immune from harm or invasion
on this distant island home, but Drake soon disillusioned them. His
devoted lieutenant, Christopher Carlile, was selected as usual to find
a suitable channel and landing, a hazardous and almost unattainable
quest, but in his and Drake's skilful hands their object was
accomplished. The ships were brought into port, and in his usual
direct way Drake demanded that the garrison of the castle should
surrender without parley, and it was done. Drake was not finished with
them yet; he wished to know from the governor what terms he was
prepared to offer in order that the city should be saved from pillage.
A negro boy was sent with this dispatch, and raging with the disgrace
of surrendering to the British Admiral, an officer ran a lance through
the boy's body. The poor boy was just able to get back, and died
immediately, close to where Drake was. The Spaniards had allowed their
vicious pride to incite them to commit murder and to insult the
British Admiral, who promptly avenged both deeds by having two friars
taken to the place where the boy had been stabbed, and there hanged.
"El Draque" sent a further note to the governor informing him that
unless the officer who murdered his messenger was executed at once by
the Spanish authorities he would hang two friars for every day that it
was put off. Needless to say, no more friars were hung, as the officer
paid the penalty of his crime without further delay. The lacerated
dignity of the Spaniards was still further tried by the demand for the
ransom of the city, and their procrastination cost them dear.
Drake's theology was at variance with that of the Founder of our
faith. His method was rigid self-assertion, and the power of the
strong. The affront he conceived to have been laid upon him and upon
the country he represented could only be wiped out by martial law.
Theoretic babbling about equality had no place in his ethics of the
universe. He proceeded to raid and burn both private dwellings,
palaces, and magazines; and the Government House, which was reputed to
be the finest building in the world, was operated upon for a month,
until it was reduced to dust. These are some of the penalties that
would have gladdened the heart of the gallant Beresford and his Albert
Hall comrades of our time had they been carried out against the
Germans, who have excelled the Spaniards of Philip's reign in cultured
murder and other brutalities in a war that has cost William II his
throne and brought the period of civilization perilously near its end.
It may be that the instability of petty statesmanship is to disappear,
and that Providence may have in unseen reserve a group of men with
mental and physical powers capable of subduing human virulence and
re-creating out of the chaos the Germans have made a new and enduring
civilization; and when they shall appear their advent will be
applauded by the stricken world.
Incidentally, it may be added that the German nation, which has
endangered the existence of civilization, would never have been
despised or thought ill of on account of its defeat by the Allies. It
is their unjustifiable method of beginning the war, and the dirty
brutal tricks by which they sought to win it, which have created
enduring mistrust and animosity against them. The law of human
fairness is no more exacting to small communities or individuals than
it is to nations.
Drake continued his relentless reprisals against San Domingo. The
burning of British sailors as heretics possessed his mind. The
distracted governor would have given his soul to get rid of him, but
Drake demanded money, and this the governor pleaded was not available,
but he was ultimately forced to provide 25,000 ducats, equalling
£50,000. This was accepted after the town had been shattered to pieces
and the shipping destroyed. The cathedral was the only important
building left intact, the probable reason being that the remains of
the great navigator, Columbus, were entombed there. Already the
mortality amongst Drake's crew had been alarmingly heavy, and he was
too wise a man to gamble with their lives until the bad season came
on, so he settled up and hurried away into the fresh sea breezes,
determined to give many more Spanish possessions a thorough shaking
up. The news that the freebooters were near at hand, and that they
were committing shocking deeds of theft and destruction on the way,
had filtered to the Carribean Sea, and struck the somnolent
population with terror. Carthagena, a magnificent city and the capital
of the Spanish Main, was Drake's next objective. He had large hopes of
doing well there. The health of most of his crew had improved and was
now robust, and their fighting spirits had been kindled to a high
pitch by their gallant chief, whose eye of genius was centred on a big
haul of material things. On arrival off the port, Carlile, whose
resource and courage were always in demand, was put in charge of a
strong force. He led the attack, mounted the parapets, drove the
Spanish garrison away in confusion, killed the commander, and
subsequently destroyed a large number of ships which were lazily lying
in the port. Many English prisoners were released, which was a godsend
in filling the places of those who had died.
The combative pretensions of the governor had received a severe shock.
He was beaten, and Drake, like a true sportsman, asked him and his
suite to dine with him, and with an air of Spanish dignity he
accepted. The occasion was memorable for the royal way the
distinguished guests were treated. The governor was studiously
cordial, and obviously wished to win the favour of his remorseless
visitors, so asked Drake and his officers to do him the honour of
accepting his hospitality in return, which they did. What form the
interchange of civilities took is not quite clear, but the governor's
apparent amiableness did not in any way move Drake to exercise
generosity. His object was ransom, and if this was agreed to
good-naturedly, all the better for the Spaniards, but he was neither
to be bought nor sold by wily tactics, nor won over by golden-tongued
rhetoric. The price of the rugged Devonshire sailor's alternative of
wild wrath and ruin was the modest sum of 100,000 ducats in hard cash.
Mutual convivialities and flowing courtesies were at an end; these
were one thing and reparation for the incarceration and burning of
unoffending British sailors as heretics was another.
"Deeds of blood and torture can never be atoned for in money or
destruction of property. I am Drake, 'El Draque' if you like, and if
you don't comply with my terms, you shall be destroyed."
It was his habit openly to express himself in this way to Philip's
subjects, whether hostile or not, and we can imagine that similar
views were uttered in the Carthagena negotiations. The Spaniards
regarded his terms as monstrous impiety; they were aghast, pleaded
poverty, and protested and swore by the Holy Office that the total
amount they could find in the whole city was only 30,000 ducats.
Drake, with commendable prudence, seeing that he wished to get away
from the fever zone without delay, appears to have accepted this
amount, though authorities are at variance on this point. Some say
that he held out for his first claim and got it. I have not been able
to verify which is the correct amount, but in all probability he got
the 100,000 ducats. In any case, he piously charged them with
deception in their plea of poverty, but came to terms, declaring, no
doubt, that his own magnanimity astonished him.
But for the sudden outbreak of sickness amongst his crew, the
Carthagenians would not have fared nearly so well. The city might have
been, not only pillaged, but laid in ruins. As it was, he had emptied
a monastery and blown the harbour forts to pieces.
Drake's intention was to visit Panama, but the fever had laid heavy
hands on his men. Only a third of those who commenced the voyage with
him were well enough to do work at all, notwithstanding the
replenishment by released prisoners, so he was forced to abandon
further enterprises and shape his course homewards as quickly as
skilful navigation and the vagaries of wind and weather would allow.
Great deeds, even on this trip, stood to the credit of himself and
crew. The accomplishments were far below what was expected at the
outset in point of money value, but the priceless feature of the
voyage was the enhanced respect for Drake's name which had taken
possession of the Spanish race in every part of the world and
subsequently made the defeat of the Armada an easier task.
This eager soul, who was really the pioneer of a new civilization, had
still to face hard fate after the reluctant abandonment of his
intention to visit Panama. The sufferings of the adventurers from bad
weather and shortness of water was severely felt on the passage to
Florida. But the rough leader never lost heart or spared himself in
any way. He was obliged to heave-to at Cape Antonio (Cuba), and here
with indomitable courage went to work, putting heart into his men by
digging with pick and shovel in a way that would have put a navvy to
the blush, and when their efforts were rewarded he took his ships
through the Bahama Channel, and as he passed a fort which the
Spaniards had constructed and used as a base for a force which had
murdered many French Protestant colonists in the vicinity, Drake
landed, found out the murderous purpose of the fort, and blew it to
pieces. But that was not all. He also had the satisfaction of saving
the remainder of an unsuccessful English settlement founded by Sir
Walter Raleigh, and of taking possession of everything that he could
lay hands on from the Spanish settlement of St. Augustine. This was
the last episode of plunder connected with an expedition that was ripe
with thrilling incidents, and added to the fame of the most
enterprising figure of the Elizabethan reign.
In point of profit to those who had financed the voyage it was not a
success; but its political and ultimate commercial advantages were
enormous. These early seamen of the seventeenth century, many of them
amateurs, laid the foundation of the greatest navy and mercantile
marine of the world. It is to these fascinating adventurers, too, that
the generations which followed are indebted for the initiative in
human comforts and progress. The superficial self-righteous critic may
find it an agreeable pursuit to search out their blemishes; but these
men cannot be airily dismissed in that manner. They towered above
their fellows, the supreme product of the spirit of their day in
adventure and daring; they fulfilled their great destiny, and left
their indelible mark upon the life of their nation and of the world.
Their great emancipating heroism and reckless self-abnegation more
than counterbalanced the faults with which the modern mind, judging
their day by ours, is too prone to credit them, and whatever their
deeds of perfidy may have been, they were imbued more with the idea of
patriotism than with that of avarice. They were remarkable men, nor
did they come into the life of the nation by chance, but for a
purpose, and their memories are enshrined in human history.
Drake sailed for home as soon as he had embarked what was left of
Raleigh's colonists at Roanoke River, Virginia, and after a protracted
and monotonous passage, arrived at Plymouth on the 28th July, 1586.
The population received the news with acclamation. Drake wrote to Lord
Burleigh, bemoaning his fate in having missed the gold fleet by a few
hours, and again placing his services at the disposal of his Queen and
country.
The most momentous of all his commissions, especially to his own
country, was in 1587, when he destroyed a hundred ships in Cadiz
Harbour. It was a fine piece of work, this "singeing of the King of
Spain's beard" as he called it, and by far excelled anything he had
previously done. He captured the _San Philip_, the King of Spain's
ship, which was the largest afloat. Her cargo was valued at over one
million sterling, in addition to which papers were found on board
revealing the wealth of the East India trade. The knowledge of this
soon found a company of capitalists, who formed the East India
Company, out of which our great Indian Empire was established. When
the _San Philip_ was towed into Dartmouth Harbour, and when it became
known generally, the whole country was ablaze with excitement, and
people travelled from far and near to see the leviathan.
Drake bore himself on this occasion with that sober modesty that
characterized him always under any circumstances. His reputation stood
higher now than ever, and it was no detriment to him that Philip
should shudder, and when he became virtuously agitated speak of him as
"that fearful man Drake." Everywhere he was a formidable reality,
strong, forbidding and terrible; his penetrating spirit saw through
the plans of the enemies of his country and his vigorous
counter-measures were invariably successful. The exalted part he took
in the defeat of the Armada has been briefly referred to in another
part of this book. He was then at the height of his imposing
magnificence and fame, but owing to the caprice of his royal mistress,
who had an insatiable habit of venting her Tudor temper
indiscriminately, he fell under her displeasure, and for a time was in
disgrace; but she soon discovered that his services, whatever his lack
of success on apparently rash enterprises may have been, were
indispensable at so critical a moment. He was recalled, and soon after
sent on his melancholy last voyage. He had worn himself out in the
service of his country. Born at Tavistock in 1539, his eager spirit
passed into the shadows off Puerto Bello on the 28th January, 1596,
and, as previously stated, he was buried three miles out at sea, and
two of his prizes were sunk and laid beside him.
The following beautiful lines of Sir Henry Newbolt not only describe
his patriotic and heroic end, but breathe the very spirit of the man
who was one of the most striking figures of the Elizabethan age:--