THE GREAT SEA-CAPTAINS
As matters are looked at in these times, Elizabeth's relations to Spain
were exceedingly strange. To-day if two countries are not at war, they
are at peace, but in the sixteenth century it was not at all uncommon
for two rulers to annoy each other as much as possible without any
formal war, and more than once a third country joined one side or the
other because in so doing there was an opportunity for gain.
Philip would have been glad to conquer England, but as long as
Elizabeth maintained peace with France, there was little hope for
him. Moreover, the Netherlands were keeping his hands full, and what
was most exasperating, Elizabeth was helping the revolters. There was
one more thing to be considered, if Philip did conquer England, there
was no hope of his being able to claim the throne as long as Mary
was alive. So it was that this ruler of half Europe, was really at
the mercy of that exasperating monarch, Elizabeth of England, and she
hectored and tormented him to her heart's content. Early in her reign
most of her advisers would have been glad to go to war with Philip,
but Elizabeth delayed. She hated war. Every year of peace enriched and
strengthened her kingdom, and moreover, even without fighting Philip,
she was gaining much of the wealth and power that a Spanish conquest
would have brought her.
This gain came about through the exploits of her sea-captains. As has
been said before, it was regarded as an honorable occupation to get
some negroes on the African coast, carry them to the Spanish colonies
in America, and sell them for a goodly amount of Spanish gold. This was
precisely what Sir John Hawkins did, but when he had leisurely made his
way back to England, he found himself in trouble. Elizabeth sent for
him.
"They tell me you are no better than a pirate," she said, bluntly,
although her look was not so stern as Cecil would have wished.
"Your Majesty," replied Hawkins, "I am but a plain, simple sailor."
"And so my plain, simple sailors are bringing me into a war with King
Philip?" asked Elizabeth.
Hawkins was no more afraid of the queen of England than of the king of
Spain, and he told his own grievances as frankly as if she had been one
of his men.
"Your Majesty," said he, "I took the blacks from the savage countries
of Africa, and surely there was no harm in that. I carried them to
Saint Domingo, and I sold them to the planters. The governor of the
island was willing, and the planters were glad to get them. I paid the
harbor dues, and I left one hundred negroes with him to pay a larger
duty if the king asked more of an Englishman than he did of a Spaniard.
I bought hides with the money and sent them in a Spanish vessel to be
sold in Spain. The king seized them, and he won't pay me a penny for
them."
"Well, my plain, simple sailor," asked the queen, "is it your will that
I and my council should go to Spain and get your hides?"
"Your Majesty," he answered, "give me a good vessel under me and
plenty of sea-room, and I'll trouble no council to care for me and my
right." Elizabeth was in a rarely good-natured mood. She patted the
captain on his broad shoulder.
"I'd gladly know what the king of Spain would do with such a saucy
fellow as you," she said. "You'd better go home and think no more about
the New World. One side of the Atlantic is enough for a man." The
captain withdrew, but Elizabeth bade an attendant call him back.
"Let me understand when it is your will to go on another trip," she
said, "for no one could expect a pirate to obey his queen, and then,
too, I have a vessel that might be the better for a voyage or two, even
in the hands of a simple sailor like yourself."
Cecil objected and the Spanish ambassador raged, but it was not long
before Hawkins set out on another voyage, this time in a great ship of
the queen's, and she as well as many of her council took shares in the
enterprise. "See you to it that you do no wrong to the king of Spain,"
were the queen's orders, but she lent the commander one hundred good
soldiers. When Hawkins came back in all the glory of a successful
voyage and with bags of Spanish coins for queen and councilors, he was
invited to dine with his sovereign. The Spanish ambassador was also
dining at court, but he could have had little pleasure in his dinner,
for he was thinking of what he should have to write to the king of
Spain. What Philip said when the letters reached him no one knows,
but whenever he came to the name of Hawkins, he wrote on the margin
"Beware, beware!"
On one of Hawkins's voyages went a kinsman of his own named Francis
Drake. He was a young man of medium height, with broad shoulders,
reddish beard, and keen, kindly eyes. The voyage on which he went was
unsuccessful, for a Spanish ship set upon the Englishmen and robbed
them. Worse than that, there were not provisions enough to last on the
trip home, and one hundred of his comrades volunteered to take their
chances on the land that the rest of the company might be sure of
safety.
Drake made up his mind that the king of Spain should pay for his own
lost investment and his kinsman's captured hides to say nothing of
reprisal for the suffering and perhaps death of the hundred brave men
who had sacrificed themselves for their comrades. He did very little
talking about his plans, but there were sailors enough in Plymouth who
were ready to go anywhere with him, and he had friends who were willing
to invest in any undertaking that he would lead. He set sail for
America.
He was not going out vaguely into the west, hoping that somewhere he
might pick up something worth bringing home, he had a very definite
plan. He sailed straight for Panama and landed. There he waited. While
he was waiting, he climbed a tall tree one day, and far to the westward
the Pacific Ocean spread out before him. "If the almighty God will give
me life," said he, "I'll sail a ship in those waters before many years."
After a while he and his men heard bits of Spanish song, the tinkling
of bells on the necks of mules, and the sound of the feet of the
animals striking upon the well-trodden path. Then the English dashed
out, for this was King Philip's treasure train that once a year paced
leisurely up the path with the output of the mines, with gold, silver,
emeralds, and diamonds. There were more than the ship could carry,
says the old story. The ship could easily come again, the ocean was
free; so they buried the great bars of silver and steered for England.
When Drake arrived, he made no boast of what he had done, he divided
the treasure and did no talking. He read books on geography, he studied
charts and globes, he questioned seamen who had been on the farther
side of the ocean, and he had more than one interview with the queen
and different members of her council. To agree as a council to support
Drake would be to declare war against Spain, and it would not answer to
have the names of the councilors who invested in the enterprise made
public, but many a one among them, and even the queen herself was ready
to fill a coffer or two with good Spanish gold.
The preparations were so unusual that the voyage could not be kept
secret. "I pray your Majesty," wrote the Spanish ambassador to Philip,
"I pray you order your planters in the New World to hang every
Englishman upon whom they can lay hands, and bid your sailors sink
every ship that comes in their sight."
The two vessels, one of one hundred and twenty tons and one of eighty
tons, with three little sloops, were made ready. Everything about
them was put in the best order possible for fighting or for sailing.
Luxuries were not forgotten, for this keen young sailor did not scorn
the elegancies of life. There was handsome furniture finely carved.
There was a beautiful silver service for his table, every piece
engraved with the arms of his family. His cooking utensils were of
silver. He had a liberal supply of perfumes, many of them the gift of
the queen. Expert musicians were on board, for this luxurious captain
must dine and sup to the sound of music.
With his men he was ever kindly, even affectionate, and he was not
afraid to share their work if there was need, but they knew him for one
that could command, and they never failed in their respect. Nine or ten
men formed his council. He decided all questions himself, but he ever
listened attentively to what they had to say. They dined at his table,
but not one of them ventured to be seated in his presence or to wear a
hat without the invitation of their commander. November 15, 1577, the
little fleet set sail at five o'clock in the afternoon--on a one day's
voyage it proved, for the _Golden Hind_, Drake's own ship, was injured
in the "forcible storm and tempests" that arose, and he had to go back
to land.
Three years later many a man in England was troubled about the deeds of
this commander who was so fond of perfumes and music and silver plate,
for there were stories abroad of what he had done on the other side of
the sea. Philip was furious; the Spanish ambassador raged, and more
than one who had invested in Drake's venture every shilling that he
could raise would have rejoiced to lose his money if he could have been
sure that Drake would never return. In the midst of the anxiety and
uncertainty, some eager to have him come in safely and others trembling
at the thought of his arrival, there was a mighty roaring of the signal
guns at Plymouth Harbor, for Drake had returned, and he had been around
the world.
On a little hill, somewhat withdrawn from the crowd that stood shouting
and cheering to see the ship come in, stood two men, the elder grave
and troubled, the younger eager and excited.
"I verily believe," said the elder, "that you would willingly be among
those doltish screamers on the shore yonder."
"It's not so bad a thing, is it, for a man to know that his money has
come back to him doubled ten, twelve, perhaps a hundred times? It's
little wonder that they scream."
"That goes as it may," returned the elder, "but the gold in that vessel
is devil's gold. If half the tales be true, Francis Drake is no better
than a pirate. Has he not burned settlements, stolen treasure, and sunk
galleons?"
"Well, what of it, if they be those of Spain?" asked the young man
indifferently, shading his eyes to see the ships more clearly.
"Nothing of it if a man cares for naught but gold, nothing of it to him
whose empty moneybags are a sorer grief to him than the ill that is
sure to come to England from this wild and savage piracy."
"You mean that old leaden foot will bestir himself?"
"Philip is slow, but he will strike at last."
"Let him. One Englishman can meet two Spaniards any day."
"He boasts best who boasts last," said the elder. "Remember that every
Spaniard has his hands full of gold from the American mines."
"And it is you yourself who are blaming Captain Drake for taking it
from them," laughed the young fellow gaily. "Goodby, uncle, I'm going
down among the wicked folk to see the ships come to shore."
For once the stories were not equal to the reality. In the holds of
Drake's vessels were such masses of treasure that men hardly ventured
even to estimate it. Vast quantities were carried to the Tower of
London. Drake made most costly gifts to the nobles, but some of them
refused to accept anything from the "master thief of the unknown
world," as they called him.
"He is nothing but a robber," declared they, "and he will bring war
upon us."
"Is it robbery, demanded others, to take from Spain what Spain has
stolen from us? How else can a man get his rights? Has not Philip taken
our ships, hindered our commerce, captured our sailors, and tortured
them to make them give up the true faith? Have we not a clear right to
take reprisal when and where we can?"
"It is a lawful prize," reasoned others, "and if war is to come, this
Spanish gold will save taxes and fight many a battle for us."
The Spanish ambassador went straight to the queen and said gravely, "I
present from my master, the king of Spain, a request that the pirate
Drake be surrendered to him."
"The king of Spain is generous with his presents," answered Elizabeth
flippantly. "For this one I return him all due thanks."
"Your Majesty," said the ambassador, "this man Drake has sunk our
ships, stolen our treasure, and interfered with our possessions in the
New World."
"If you can prove his misdeeds to my satisfaction," rejoined the
queen with a little yawn, "this wonderful treasure of yours shall
be restored, though one might think it was but fair payment for the
rebellions that Spain has caused in Ireland--or does my good friend
Philip claim Ireland too for his own? As for his possessions in the New
World, I don't know what right the Pope has to give away continents.
The sea and the air are free to all, and neither Pope nor Spain can
keep my brave captains from sailing the ocean, I doubt whether I could
keep them from it myself. Shall we talk of other matters? You have an
excellent taste in music, and here is a rare bit of song that has but
newly come to me:--
"'The little pretty nightingale
Among the leaves green--'"
"Your Majesty," broke in the exasperated ambassador, "if I report this
scene to King Philip, matters will come to the cannon."
"You really shouldn't say such things," said Elizabeth with a
coquettish glance at the enraged Spaniard, and she added quietly, "If
you do, I shall have to throw you into one of my dungeons."
Elizabeth made Drake a knight, she wore his jewels in her crown, and
she dined with him on board the _Golden Hind_. She often had him at
court, and never wearied of hearing the story of his adventures.
[Illustration: Elizabeth signing the death warrant of Mary
Stuart.--_From painting by Liezen-Mayer._]
"Tell me of the savages," she commanded, and Drake began:--
"We saw them moving about under the trees, and when we came near, they
paddled out to meet us. They made a long speech with many gestures,
and it seemed as if they couldn't do us reverence enough. The next day
they came again, and this time they brought a great ragged bunch of
crow's feathers. The man who stood at the king's right hand knelt
before me and touched the ground with his forehead three times. Then he
gave me the feathers. I noticed that the king's guards all wore such
bunches on their heads, so I stuck them in my red cap as well as ever I
could, and the savages all danced around me and made the most unearthly
screeching that I ever heard. Then they began to show us their wounds
and sores, and made signs that we should blow on them to heal them. I
gave them plasters and lotions. They ought to do some good, for they
were mixed on a day that Dr. Dee said would make any medicine of worth."
"Tell me about the _Cacafuego_," bade the queen, and Drake said:--
"We took a Spanish ship, and one of the sailors said, 'Let me go free
and I will tell you such news as you never heard before.' I promised,
and he said, 'There's a ship not far ahead of you, her name is the
_Cacafuego_, and if you can catch her, you'll have such a prize as
you never saw in a dream--and I'll get my revenge on her captain for
this,' he muttered, and then he put his hand on a great red scar on his
forehead. We chased her to Payta, but she had gone to Panama, and when
we came to Panama, she was somewhere else. 'I'll give a gold chain to
the first man that sees her,' I said, and, your Majesty, if I had even
given an order to drop anchor, I verily believe every man of them would
have climbed the masthead. Well, about three o'clock one afternoon my
page John caught sight of her, and we pursued. Oh, but it was glorious!
I wish you had been there!" said the sturdy sailor, forgetting for a
moment that he was addressing the sovereign of England.
"So do I," declared Elizabeth, and she too forgot that she was a queen,
she forgot everything but the wild adventures that the man before her
had met. Drake went on:--
"We fired across her bow, but she wouldn't stop. Then we shot three
pieces of ordnance and struck down her mizzen mast, and we boarded her.
A man could wade up to his waist in the treasure in her hold. There
were thirteen chests full of Spanish reals, there were six and twenty
tons of silver, and fourscore pounds of gold, and there were jewels and
precious stones. Your Majesty can see them in the Tower, but oh, how
they glittered and flashed and sparkled in the dark hold of the vessel
when we broke open the caskets and turned the light of the lanterns on
them, and how the dons swore at us! It's many a month that they should
do penance for that day's work."
"I really wonder that you didn't excommunicate them as you did your own
chaplain," said Elizabeth.
"They were only swearing, and he was a coward," explained Drake. "A man
who'll go about among the sailors before a fight and tell them he is
not sure that it is the will of God to give them the victory ought to
be excommunicated, he ought to be hanged."
"Tell me again just what you said," demanded the queen, "that I may
see what penalty you deserve for daring to show dishonor to one of my
chaplains."
"I chained him by the leg to the forehatch," replied Drake, "and I
said, 'Francis Fletcher, I do here excommunicate thee out of the church
of God, and I renounce thee to the devil and all his angels;' and then
I tied a riband around his arm, and I said, 'If so be that you dare to
unbind this riband, you'll swing from that yardarm as sure as my name
is Francis Drake.'"
"And what was it you wrote on the riband?" asked the queen, though well
knowing the answer.
"I wrote 'Francis Fletcher, the falsest knave that liveth.' I don't see
how I could have done less."
"Neither do I," agreed Elizabeth heartily, "and it would but ill become
me to differ with a man who has just given me a New Albion. Where say
you that my new domain lies?"
"On the western shores of North America," answered Drake, "and
perchance, your Majesty, this new domain may stretch into Asia itself,
for the western land reaches much farther west than I had thought, and
it may be that in the far north the New World touches the old."
"Then I am perhaps queen of the Indies," said Elizabeth with a smile.
"Now go, my brave sailor, but see to it that you come soon to court
again, for there is much more that I would know of this wicked journey
of yours."
So it was that these bold buccaneers went on their voyages, not so much
for adventure or discovery as for the sake of gold. The easiest way to
get gold was to take it from the Spanish settlements in America, but
when Drake sailed, the Spaniards on the eastern coast of America were
becoming wary. Too many of their treasure ships had been attacked and
too many of their settlements robbed for them to live as carelessly as
had been the case in the earlier days. Spanish ships on the Atlantic
were manned with men who could fight, and Spanish settlements on the
eastern coast of America were guarded and fortified.
On the Pacific shore matters were different. Spanish gold from the
fabulously rich mines of Peru was carried leisurely up the coast in
vessels manned chiefly by negro slaves. At Panama it was unloaded and
taken across the isthmus. Then it was carefully guarded, and vessels
well supplied with Spanish troops bore it across the ocean to the
treasure vaults of Philip. It did not occur to the Spaniards that even
an English corsair would venture to round Cape Horn, and when Drake
appeared among the unprotected ships and the unfortified settlements,
he found an easy prey. It was less dangerous for him to cross the
Pacific and double the Cape of Good Hope than to return to England
among the Spanish vessels on the Atlantic; and that is why Drake was
the first Englishman to sail around the world.
These English buccaneers sailed under a sort of roving commission from
the queen. They were to give her a share of their profits, but they
knew well that if they could not extricate themselves from any trouble
that they might fall into with Philip, she would make no effort to
defend them, but would declare that they had had orders to do no harm
to her "good friend, the king of Spain." Still, the prizes of success
were so enormous and the charm of adventure so enticing that there
was no lack of bold leaders to rob the coffers of Spain, to fill the
treasury of Elizabeth, and to prepare experienced seamen for the great
struggle that awaited England when Philip "of the leaden foot" should
at last arise and show his might.