Noble Adventurers—The Earl of Cumberland as a Pirate—Rich Prizes—Action with the Madre de Dios—Capture of the Great Carrack—A Cargo worth £150,000—Burning of the Cinco Chagas—But Fifteen saved out of Eleven Hundred Souls—The Scourge of Malice—Establishment of the Slave Trade—Sir John Hawkins’ Ventures—High-handed Proceedings—The Spaniards forced to Purchase—A Fleet of Slavers—Hawkins sanctioned by “Good Queen Bess”—Joins in a Negro War—A Disastrous Voyage—Sir Francis Drake—His First Loss—The Treasure at Nombre de Dios—Drake’s First Sight of the Pacific—Tons of Silver Captured—John Oxenham’s Voyage—The First Englishman on the Pacific—His Disasters and Death—Drake’s Voyage Round the World—Blood-letting at the Equator—Arrival at Port Julian—Trouble with the Natives—Execution of a Mutineer—Passage of the Straits of Magellan—Vessels separated in a Gale—Loss of the Marigold—Tragic Fate of Eight Men—Drake Driven to Cape Horn—Proceedings at Valparaiso—Prizes taken—Capture of the great Treasure Ship—Drake’s Resolve to change his Course Home—Vessel refitted at Nicaragua—Stay in the Bay of San Francisco—The Natives worship the English—Grand Reception at Ternate—Drake’s Ship nearly wrecked—Return to England—Honours accorded Drake—His Character and Influence—Sir Humphrey Gilbert’s Disasters and Death—Raleigh’s Virginia Settlements.
The spirit of adventure, fostered by the grand discoveries which were constantly being made, the rich returns derived from trading expeditions, and from the pillage of our enemies, was at its zenith in the reign of Queen Elizabeth. Nor was it confined to mere soldiers of fortune, for we find distinguished noblemen of ample fortunes taking to the seas as though their daily bread depended thereupon. Among these naval adventurers “there was no one,” says Southey, “who took to the seas so much in the spirit of a northern sea king as the Earl of Cumberland.” He had borne his part in the defeat of the Armada, while still a young man, and the queen was so well satisfied with him, that she gave him a commission to go the same year to the Spanish coast as general, lending him the Golden Lion, one of the ships royal, he victualling and furnishing it at his own expense. After some fighting he took a prize, but soon after had to cut away his mainmast in a storm, and return to England. “His spirit remaining, nevertheless, higher than the winds, and more resolutely by storms compact and united in itself,” we find him [pg 292]shortly afterwards again on the high seas with the Victory, one of the queen’s ships, and three smaller vessels. The earl was not very scrupulous as regards prize-taking, and captured two French ships, which belonged to the party of the League. A little later he fell in with eleven ships from Hamburg and the Baltic, and fired on them till the captains came on board and showed their passports; these were respected, but not so the property of a Lisbon Jew, which they confessed to have on their ships, and which was valued at £4,500. Off the Azores, he hoisted Spanish colours, and succeeded in robbing some Spanish vessels. The homeward-bound Portuguese fleet from the East Indies narrowly escaped him; when near Tercera some English prisoners stole out in a small boat, having no other yard for their mainsail than two pipe-staves, and informed him that the Portuguese ships had left the island a week before. This induced him to return to Fayal, and the terror inspired by the English name in those days is indicated by the fact that the town of about 500 houses was found to be completely empty; the inhabitants had abandoned it. He set a guard over the churches and monasteries, and then calmly waited till a ransom of 2,000 ducats was brought him. He helped himself to fifty-eight pieces of iron ordnance, and the Governor of Graciosa, to keep on good terms with the earl, sent him sixty butts of wine. While there a Weymouth privateer came in with a Spanish prize worth £16,000. Next we find the earl at St. Mary’s, where he captured a Brazilian sugar ship. In bringing out their prize they were detained on the harbour bar, exposed to the enemy. Eighty of Cumberland’s men were killed, and he himself was wounded; “his head also was broken with stones, so that the blood covered his face,” and both his face and legs were burnt with fire-balls. The prize, however, was secured and forwarded to England.
Cumberland himself held on his course to Spain, and soon fell in with a ship of 400 tons, from Mexico, laden with hides, cochineal, sugar, and silver, “and the captain had with him a venture to the amount of 25,000 ducats,” which was taken. They now resolved to return home, but “sea fortunes are variable, having two inconstant parents, air and water,” and as one of the adventurers134 concisely put it, “these summer services and ships of sugar proved not so sweet and pleasant as the winter was afterwards sharp and painful.” Lister, the earl’s captain, was sent in the Mexican prize for England, and was wrecked off Cornwall, everything being lost in her, and all the crew, save five or six men. On the earl’s ship, contrary winds and gales delayed them so greatly that their water failed; they were reduced to three spoonfuls of vinegar apiece at each meal; this state of affairs lasting fourteen days, except what water they could collect from rain and hail-storms. “Yet was that rain so intermingled with the spray of the foaming sea, in that extreme storm, that it could not be healthful: yea, some in their extremity of thirst drank themselves to death with their cans of salt water in their hands.” Some ten or twelve perished on each of as many consecutive nights, and the storm was at one time so violent that the ship was almost torn to pieces; “his lordship’s cabin, the dining-room, and the half deck became all one,” and he was obliged to seek a lodging in the hold. The earl, however, constantly encouraged the men, and the small stock of provisions was distributed with the greatest [pg 293]equality; so at last they reached a haven on the west coast of Ireland, where their sufferings ended. On this voyage they had taken thirteen prizes. The Mexican prize which had been wrecked would have added £100,000 to the profits of the venture, but even with this great deduction, the earl had been doubly repaid for his outlay.
The earl’s third expedition was a failure, but the fourth resulted in the capture of the Madre de Dios, one of the largest carracks belonging to the Portuguese crown. In this, however, some of Raleigh’s and Hawkins’ ships had a share. Captain Thomson, who came up with her first, “again and again delivered his peals as fast as he could fire and fall astern to load again, thus hindering her way, though somewhat to his own cost, till the others could come up.” Several others worried the carrack, until the earl’s ships came up about eleven at night. Captain Norton had no intention of boarding the enemy till daylight, if there had not been a cry from one of the ships royal, then in danger, “An you be men, save the queen’s ship!” Upon this the carrack was boarded on both sides. A desperate struggle ensued, and it took an hour and a half before the attacking parties succeeded in getting possession of the high forecastle, “so brave a booty making the men fight like dragons.” The ship won, the boarders turned to pillage, and while searching about with candles, managed to set fire to a cabin containing some hundreds of cartridges, very nearly blowing up the ship. The hotness of the action was evidenced by the number of dead and dying who strewed the carrack’s decks, “especially,” says the chronicler, “about the helm; for the greatness of the steerage requiring the labour of twelve or fourteen men at once, and some of our ships beating her in at the stern with their ordnance, oftentimes with one shot slew four or five labouring on either side of the helm; whose room being still furnished with fresh supplies, and our artillery still playing upon them with continual volleys, it could not be but that much blood should be shed in that place.” For the times, the prisoners were treated with great humanity, and surgeons were sent on board to dress their wounds. The captain, Don Fernando de Mendoza, was [pg 294]“a gentleman of noble birth, well stricken in years, well spoken, of comely personage, of good stature, but of hard fortune. Twice he had been taken prisoner by the Moors and ransomed by the king; and he had been wrecked on the coast of Sofala, in a carrack which he commanded, and having escaped the sea danger, fell into the hands of infidels ashore, who kept him under long and grievous servitude.” The prisoners were allowed to carry off their own valuables, put on board one of Cumberland’s ships, and sent to their own country. Unfortunately for them, they again fell in with other English cruisers, who robbed them without mercy, taking from them 900 diamonds and other valuable things. About 800 negroes on board were landed on the island of Corvo. Her cargo consisted of jewels, spices, drugs, silks, calicoes, carpets, canopies, ivory, porcelain, and innumerable curiosities; it was estimated to amount to £150,000 in value, and there was considerable haggling over its division, and no little embezzlement; the queen had a large share of it, and Cumberland netted £36,000. The carrack created great astonishment at Dartmouth by her dimensions, which for those days were enormous. She was of about 1,600 tons burden, and 165 feet long; she was of “seven several stories, one main orlop, three close decks, one forecastle (of great height) and a spar deck of two floors apiece.” Her mainmast was 125 feet in height, and her main-yard 105 feet long. “Being so huge and unwieldly a ship,” says Purchas, “she was never removed from Dartmouth, but there laid up her bones.”
In 1594 the earl set forth on his eighth voyage, with three ships, a caravel, and a pinnace, furnished at his own expense, with the help of some adventurers. Early in the voyage they descried a great Indian ship, whose burden they estimated at 2,000 tons. Her name was the Cinco Chagas (the Five Wounds), and her fate was as tragical as her name. She had on board a number of persons who had been shipwrecked in three vessels, which, like herself, had been returning from the Indies. When she left Mozambique for Europe, she had on board 1,400 persons, an enormous number for those days; on the voyage she had encountered terrible gales, and after putting in at Loanda for water and supplies, and shipping many slaves, a fatal pestilence known by the name of the “mal de Loanda,” carried off about half the crew. The captain wished to avoid the Azores, but a mutiny had arisen among the soldiers on board, and he was forced to stand by them, and by this means came into contact with the Earl of Cumberland’s squadron off Fayal. The Portuguese had pledged themselves to the ship at all hazards, and to perish with her in the sea, or in the flames, rather than yield so rich a prize to the heretics. Cumberland’s ships, after harassing the carrack on all sides, ranged up against her; twice was she boarded, and twice were the assailants driven out. A third time the privateers boarded her, one of them bearing a white flag; he was the first of the party killed, and when a second hoisted another flag at the poop it was immediately thrown overboard. The English suffered considerably, more especially among the officers. Cumberland’s vice-admiral, Antony, was killed; Downton, the rear-admiral, crippled for life; and Cave, who commanded the earl’s ship, mortally wounded. The privateers seem, in the heat of action, almost to have forgotten the valuable cargo on board, and to have aimed only at destroying her. “After many bickerings,” says the chronicler, “fireworks flew about interchangeably; at last the vice-admiral, with a culverin shot at hand, fired the carrack in her stern, and the rear-admiral [pg 295]her forecastle, * * * * then flying and maintaining their fires so well with their small shot that many which came to quench them were slain.” The fire made rapid headway, and P. Frey Antonio, a Franciscan, was seen with a crucifix in his hand, encouraging the poor sailors to commit themselves to the waves and to God’s mercy, rather than perish in the flames. A large number threw themselves overboard, clinging to such things as were cast into the sea. It is said that the English boats, with one honourable exception, made no efforts to save any of them; it is even stated that they butchered many in the water. According to the English account there were more than 1,100 on board the carrack, when she left Loanda, of whom only fifteen were saved! Two ladies of high rank, mother and daughter—the latter of whom was going home to Spain to take possession of some entailed property—when they saw there was no help to be expected from the privateers, fastened themselves together with a cord, and committed themselves to the waves; their bodies were afterwards cast ashore on Fayal, still united, though in the bonds of death.
The earl afterwards built the Scourge of Malice, a ship of 800 tons, and the largest yet constructed by an English subject, and in 1597 obtained letters patent authorising him to levy sea and land forces. Without royal assistance, he gathered eighteen sail. This expedition, although it worried and impoverished the Spaniards, was not particularly profitable to the earl. He took Puerto Rico, and then abandoned it, and did not, as he expected, intercept either the outward-bound East Indiamen, who, indeed, were too frightened to venture out of the Tagus that year, or the homeward-bound Mexican fleet. This was Cumberland’s last expedition, and no other subject ever undertook so many at his own cost.
The Elizabethan age was otherwise so glorious that it is painful to have to record the establishment of the slave-trade—a serious blot on the reign—one which no Englishman of to-day would defend, but which was then looked upon as perfectly legitimate. John Hawkins (afterwards Sir John) was born at Plymouth, and his father had long been a well-esteemed sea-captain, the first Englishman, it is believed, who ever traded to the Brazils. The young man had gained much renown by trips to Spain, Portugal, and the Canaries, and having “grown in love and favour” with the Canarians, by good and upright dealing, began to think of more extended enterprises. Learning that “negroes were very good merchandise in Hispaniola, and that store of them might easily be had upon the coast of Guinea,” he communicated with several London ship-owners, who liked his schemes, and provided him in large part with the necessary outfit. Three small vessels were provided—the Solomon, of 120 tons, the Swallow, of 100, and the Jonas, of forty. Hawkins left England in October, 1562, and proceeding to Sierra Leone, “got into his possession, partly by the sword and partly by other means, to the number of 300 negroes at the least, besides other merchandise which that country yieldeth.” At the port of Isabella, Puerto de Plata, and Monte Christo, he made sale of the slaves to the Spaniards, trusting them “no farther than by his own strength he was able to master them.” He received in exchange, pearls, ginger, sugar, and hides enough, not merely to freight his own vessels, but two other hulks, and thus “with prosperous success, and much gain to himself and the aforesaid adventurers, he came home, and arrived in September, 1563.”
The second expedition was on a larger scale, and included a queen’s ship of 700 tons. Hawkins arriving off the Rio Grande, could not enter it for want of a pilot, but he proceeded to Sambula, one of the islands near its mouth, where he “went every day on shore to take the inhabitants, with burning and spoiling their towns,” and got a number of slaves. Flushed with easy success, Hawkins was persuaded by some Portuguese to attack a negro town called Bymeba, where he was informed there was much gold. Forty of his men were landed, and they dispersing, to secure what booty they could for themselves, became an easy prey to the negroes, who killed seven, including one of the captains, and wounded twenty-seven. After a visit to Sierra Leone, which he left quickly on account of the illness and death of some of his men, he proceeded to the West Indies, where he carried matters with a high hand at the small Spanish settlements, at which very generally the poor inhabitants had been forbidden to trade with him by the viceroy, then stationed at St. Domingo. To this he replied at Borburata, that he was in need of refreshment and money also, “without which he could not depart. Their princes were in amity one with another; the English had free traffic in Spain and Flanders; and he knew no reason why they should not have the like in the King of Spain’s dominions. Upon this the Spaniards said they would send to their governor, who was three-score leagues off; ten days must elapse before his determination could arrive; meantime he might bring his ships into the harbour, and they would supply him with any victuals he might require.” The ships sailed in and were supplied, but Hawkins, “advising himself that to remain there ten days idle, spending victuals and men’s wages, and perhaps, in the end, receive no good answer from the governor, it were mere folly,” requested licence to sell certain lean and sick negroes, for whom he had little or no food, but who would recover with proper treatment ashore. This request, he said, he was forced to make, as he had not otherwise wherewith to pay for necessaries supplied to him. He received a licence to sell thirty slaves, but now few showed a disposition to buy, and where they did, came to haggle and cheapen. Hawkins made a feint to go, when the Spaniards bought some of his poorer negroes, “but when the purchasers paid the duty and required the customary receipt, the officer refused to give it, and instead of carrying the money to the king’s account, distributed it to the poor ‘for the love of God.’ ” The purchasers feared that they might have to pay the duty a second time, and the trade was suspended till the governor arrived, on the fourteenth day. To him Hawkins told a long-winded story, concluding by saying that, “it would be taken well at the governor’s hand if he granted a licence in this case, seeing that there was a great amity between their princes, and that the thing pertained to our queen’s highness.” The petition was taken under consideration in council, and at last granted. The licence of thirty ducats demanded for each slave sold did not, however, meet Hawkins’ views, and he therefore landed 100 men well armed, and marched toward the town. The poor townspeople sent out messengers to know his demands, and he requested that the duty should be 7½ per cent., and mildly threatened that if they would not accede to this “he would displease them.” Everything was conceded, and Hawkins obtained the prices he wanted. Fancy a modern merchant standing with an armed guard, pistol in hand, over his customers, insisting that he would sell what he liked and at his own price!
[pg 297]But all this is nothing to what happened at Rio de la Hacha. There he spoke of his quiet traffic (!) at Borburata, and requested permission to trade there in the same manner. He was told that the viceroy had forbidden it, whereupon he threatened them that he must either have the licence or they “stand to their own defence.” The licence was granted, but they offered half the prices which he had obtained at Borburata, whereupon he told them, insultingly, that “seeing they had sent him this to his supper, he would in the morning bring them as good a breakfast.”135 Accordingly, early next day he fired off a culverin, and prepared to land with 100 men, “having light ordnance in his great boat, and in the other boats double bases in their noses.” The townsmen marched out in battle array, but when the guns were fired fell flat on their faces, and soon dispersed. Still, about thirty horsemen made a show of resistance, their white leather targets in one hand and their javelins in the other, but as soon as Hawkins marched towards them they sent a flag of truce, and the treasurer, “in a cautious interview with this ugly merchant,” granted all he asked, and the trade proceeded. They parted with a show of friendship, and saluted each other with their guns, the townspeople “glad to be sped of such traders.”
On the return voyage, contrary winds prevailed, “till victuals scanted, so that they were in despair of ever reaching home, had not God provided for them better than their deserving.” They arrived at Padstow, in Cornwall, “with the loss,” says the narrative printed in Hakluyt’s collection, “of twenty persons in all the voyage, and with great profit to the venturers, as also to the whole realm, in bringing home both gold, [pg 298]silver, pearls, and other jewels in great store. His name, therefore, be praised for evermore. Amen!” They did not consider that they had been engaged in a most iniquitous traffic, nor was it, indeed, the opinion of the times. “Hawkins,” says Southey, “then, is not individually to be condemned, if he looked upon dealing in negroes to be as lawful as any other trade, and thought that force or artifice might be employed for taking them with as little compunction as in hunting, fishing, or fowling.” He had a coat of arms and crest bestowed upon him and his posterity. Among other devices it bore “a demi-Moor, in his proper colour, bound and captive, with annulets on his arms,” &c.
On his next expedition for slaving purposes he had six vessels. Herrera136 says that two Portuguese had offered to conduct this fleet to a place where they might load their vessels with gold and other riches, and that the queen had been so taken with the idea that she had supplied Hawkins with two ships, he and his brother fitting out four others and a pinnace. The force on board amounted to 1,500 soldiers and sailors, who were to receive a third of the profits. When the expedition was ready, the Portuguese deserted from Plymouth, and went to France, but as the cost of the outfit had been incurred, it was thought proper to proceed. Hawkins obtained, after a great deal of trouble, less than 150 slaves between the Rio Grande and Sierra Leone. At this juncture a negro king, just going to war with a neighbouring tribe, sent to the commander asking his aid, promising him all the prisoners who should be taken. This was a tempting bait, and 120 men were sent to assist the coloured warrior. They assaulted a town containing 8,000 inhabitants, strongly paled and well defended, and the English losing six men, and having a fourth of their number wounded, sent for more help; “whereupon,” says Hawkins, “considering that the good success of this enterprise might highly further the commodity of our voyage, I went myself; and with the help of the king of our side, assaulted the town both by land and sea, and very hardly, with fire (their houses being covered with dry palm-leaves), obtained the town, and put the inhabitants to flight, where we took 250 persons, men, women, and children. And by our friend, the king of our side, there were taken 600 prisoners, whereof we hoped to have had our choice; but the negro (in which nation is seldom or never found truth) meant nothing less, for that night he removed his camp and prisoners, so that we were fain to content us with those few that we had gotten ourselves.” They had obtained between 400 and 500, a part of which were speedily sold as soon as he reached the West Indies. At Rio de la Hacha, “from whence came all the pearls,” the treasurer would by no means allow them to trade, or even to water the ships, and had fortified the town with additional bulwarks, well manned by harquebusiers. Hawkins again enforced trade, by landing 200 men, who stormed their fortifications, at which the Spaniards fled. “Thus having the town,” says Hawkins, “with some circumstance, as partly by the Spaniards’ desire of negroes, and partly by friendship of the treasurer, we obtained a secret trade, whereupon the Spaniards resorted to us by night, and bought of us to the number of 200 negroes.”
This voyage ended most disastrously. Passing by the west end of Cuba, they [pg 299]encountered a terrific storm, which lasted four days, and they had to cut down all the “higher buildings” of the Jesus, their largest ship; her rudder, too, was nearly disabled, and she leaked badly. They made for the coast of Florida, but could find no suitable haven. “Thus, being in great despair, and taken with a new storm, which continued other three days,” Hawkins made for St. Juan de Ulloa, a port of the city of Mexico. They took on their way three ships, having on board 100 passengers, and soon reached the harbour. The Spaniards mistook them for a fleet from Spain, which was expected about that time, and the chief officers came aboard to receive the despatches. “Being deceived of their expectation,” they were somewhat alarmed, but finding that Hawkins wanted nothing but provisions, “were recomforted.” “I found in the same port,” says Hawkins, “twelve ships, which had in them, by report, £200,000 in gold and silver; all of which being in my possession, with the king’s island, as also the passengers before in my way thitherward stayed, I set at liberty, without the taking from them the weight of a groat.” This savours rather of impudent presumption, for he was certainly not in good condition to fight at that period. Next day the Spanish fleet arrived outside, when Hawkins again rode the high horse, by giving notice to the general that he would not suffer them to enter the port until conditions had been made for their safe-being, and for the maintenance of peace. The fleet had on board a new viceroy, who answered amicably, and desired him to propose his conditions. Hawkins required not merely victuals and trade, and hostages to be given on both sides, but that the island should be in his possession during his stay, with such ordnance as was planted there, and that no Spaniard might land on the island with any kind of weapon. These terms the viceroy “somewhat disliked” at first, nor is it very surprising that he did; but at length he pretended to consent, and the Spanish ships entered the port. In a few days it became evident that treachery was intended, as men and weapons in quantities were being transferred from and to the Spanish ships, and new ordnance landed on the island. Hawkins sent to inquire what was meant, and was answered with fair words; still unsatisfied, he sent the master of the Jesus, who spoke Spanish, to the viceroy, and “required to be satisfied if any such thing were or not.” The viceroy, now seeing that the treason must be discovered, retained the master, blew his trumpet, and it became evident that a general attack was intended. A number of the English crews ashore were immediately massacred. They attempted to board the Minion and Jesus, but were kept out, with great loss on both sides. “Now,” says Hawkins, “when the Jesus and the Minion were gotten about two ships’ lengths from the Spanish fleet, the fight began so hot on all sides, that, within one hour, the admiral of the Spaniards was supposed to be sunk, their vice-admiral burnt, and one other of their principal ships supposed to be sunk. The Spaniards used their shore artillery to such effect that it cut all the masts and yards of the Jesus, and sunk Hawkins’ smaller ships, the Judith only excepted.” It had been determined, as there was little hope to get the Jesus away, that she should be placed as a target or defence for the Minion till night, when they would remove such of the stores and valuables as was possible, and then abandon her. “As we were thus determining,” says Hawkins, “and had placed the Minion from the shot of the land, suddenly the Spaniards fired two great ships which were coming directly with us; and having no means to avoid the fire, it bred among the men a [pg 300]marvellous fear, so that some said, ‘Let us depart with the Minion;’ others said, ‘Let us see whether the wind will carry the fire from us.’ But, to be short, the Minion’s men, which had always their sails in readiness, thought to make sure work, and so, without either consent of the captain or master, cut their sail.” Hawkins was “very hardly” received on board, and many of the men of the Jesus were left to their fate and the mercy of the Spaniards, “which,” he says, “I doubt was very little.” Only the Minion and the Judith escaped, and the latter deserted that same night. Beaten about in unknown seas for the next fourteen days, hunger at last enforced them to seek the land; “for hides were thought very good meat; rats, cats, mice, and dogs, none escaped that might be gotten; parrots and monkeys, that were had in great price, were thought then very profitable if they served the turn of one dinner.” So starved and worn out were they, [pg 302]that about a hundred of his people desired to be left on the coast of Tabasco, and Hawkins determined to water there, and then, “with his little remain of victuals,” to attempt the voyage home. During this time, while on shore with fifty of his men, a gale arose, which prevented them regaining the ship; indeed, they expected to see it wrecked before their eyes. At last the storm abated, and they sailed for England, the men dying off daily from sheer exhaustion, the pitiful remainder being scarcely able to work the ship. They at last reached the coast of Galicia, where they obtained fresh meat, and putting into Vigo, were assisted by some English ships lying there. Hawkins concludes his narrative as follows:—“If all the miseries and troublesome affairs of this sorrowful voyage should be perfectly and thoroughly written, there should need a painful man with his pen, and as great a time as he had that wrote the lives and deaths of the martyrs.”
The Judith, which made one of Hawkins’s last fleet, was commanded by Francis Drake, a name that was destined to become one of the most famous of the day, and very terrible to the Spaniards. In this last venture he lost all that he had accumulated by earlier voyages, “but a divine, belonging to the fleet, comforted him with the assurance, that having been so treacherously used by the Spaniards, he might lawfully recover in value of the King of Spain, and repair his losses upon him wherever he could.” This comfortable doctrine consoled him. “The case,” says Fuller, “was clear in sea divinity.” Two or three minor voyages he made to gain knowledge of the field of operation, and in the West Indies made some little money “by playing the seaman and the pirate.” On May 24th, 1572, he sailed from Plymouth, in the Pascha, of seventy tons, his brother accompanying him in the Swan, of only twenty-five tons; they had three pinnaces on board, taken to pieces and stowed away. The force with which he was to revenge himself on the Spanish monarch, numbered seventy-three men and boys, all told. In the Indies he was joined by Captain Rowse, of an Isle of Wight bark, with thirty-eight men on board. Let us see how they sped.
It was known that there was great treasure at Nombre de Dios, and thither the little squadron shaped its course. The town was unwalled, and they entered without difficulty, but the Spaniards received them in the market-place with a volley of shot. Drake returned the greeting with a flight of arrows, “the best ancient English complement,” but in the attack received a wound in his leg, which he dissembled, “knowing that if the general’s heart stoop, the men’s will fall.” He arrived at the treasury-house, which was full of silver bars, and while in the act of ordering his men to break it open, fainted from the loss of blood, and his men, binding up the wound, forcibly took him to his pinnace. It was time, for the Spaniards had discovered their weakness, and could have overcome them. Rather disappointed here, Drake made for Carthagena, and took several vessels on his way. He learned from some escaped negro slaves, settled on the isthmus of Darien, that the treasure was brought from Panama to Nombre de Dios upon mules, a party of which he might intercept. Drake’s leg having healed, he was led to an eminence on that isthmus, where, from a great tree, both the Pacific and Atlantic might be seen. Steps had been cut in the trunk of this huge tree, and at the top “a convenient arbour had been made, wherein twelve men might sit.” Drake saw from its summit that great Southern Ocean (the Pacific Ocean) of which he had heard something already, and “being inflamed with [pg 303]ambition of glory and hopes of wealth, was so vehemently transported with desire to navigate that sea, that falling down there upon his knees, he implored the divine assistance, that he might at some time or other sail thither, and make a perfect discovery of the same.”137 Drake was the first Englishman to gaze on its waters.
On the isthmus, Drake encountered an armed party of Spaniards, but put them to flight, and destroyed merchandise to the value of 200,000 ducats. Soon after he heard “the sweet music of the mules coming with a great noise of bells,” and when the trains came up, he found they had no one but the muleteers to protect them. It was easy work to take as much silver as they would, but more difficult to transport it to the coast. They, in consequence, buried several tons, but one of his men, who fell into the hands of the Spaniards, was compelled by torture to reveal the place, and when Drake’s people returned for a second load it was nearly all gone. When they returned to the coast where the pinnaces should have met them, they were not to be seen, but in place, seven Spanish pinnaces which had been searching the coast. Drake escaped their notice, and constructing a raft of the trees which the river brought down, mounted a biscuit sack for sail, and steered it with an oar made from a sapling, out to sea, where they were constantly up to their waists in water. At last they caught sight of their own pinnaces, ran the raft ashore, and travelled by land round to the point off which they were laying. They then embarked their comrades with the treasure, and rejoined the ship. One of their negro allies took a great fancy to Drake’s sword, and when it was presented to him, desired the commander to accept four wedges of gold. “Drake accepted them as courteously as they were proffered, but threw them into the common stock, saying, it was just that they who bore part of the charge in setting him to sea, should enjoy their full proportion of the advantage at his return.” Drake made the passage home to the Scilly Isles in the wonderfully short period of twenty-three days. Arriving at Plymouth on a Sunday, the news was carried into the church during sermon time, and “there remained few or no people with the preacher,” for Drake was already a great man and a hero in the eyes of all Devon.
John Oxenham, who had served with Drake in the varied capacities of soldier, sailor, and cook, was very much in the latter’s confidence. Drake had particularly spoken of his desire to explore the Pacific, and Oxenham in reply, had protested that “he would follow him by God’s grace.” The latter, who “had gotten among the seamen the name of captain for his valour, and had privily scraped together good store of money,” becoming impatient, determined to attempt the enterprise his late master had projected. He reached the isthmus to find that the mule trains conveying the silver were now protected by a convoy of soldiers, and he determined on a bold and novel adventure. “He drew his ship aground in a retired and woody creek, covered it up with boughs, buried his provisions and his great guns, and taking with him two small pieces of ordnance, went with all his men and six Maroon guides about twelve leagues into the interior, to a river which discharges itself into the South Sea. There he cut wood and built a pinnace, ‘which was five-and-forty feet by the keel;’ ” embarked in it, and secured for himself the honour of [pg 304]having been the first Englishman to sail over the waters of the blue Pacific. In this pinnace he went to the Pearl Islands, and lay in wait for vessels. He was successful in capturing a small bark, bringing gold from Quito, and scarcely a week later, another with silver from Lima. He also obtained a few pearls on the islands.