During the attack on Cadiz the San Felipe, the glory of Spain, was set on fire to prevent its falling into the hands of the English, but a premature explosion of the powder magazine wrought terrible havoc amongst the Spanish soldiers, hundreds being mutilated, burnt, or drowned.

The Earl of Essex with a body of 800 men landed about a league from Cadiz, and he and Lord Howard met in the market-place.

The city had surrendered, and promised 600,000 ducats as ransom for the inhabitants. Lord Howard wrote with pride to the Queen's Council: "No aged or cold blood touched, no woman defiled; but all the ladies, nuns, and children, with great care embarked and sent to St. Mary's Port with all their apparel and rich things about them."

Even Philip II. was forced to admit that the world had never seen more chivalrous humanity among victors, and Queen Elizabeth in her letter of thanks to Howard and Essex, wrote: "You have made me famous, dreadful, and renowned; not more for your victory than for your courage; nor more for either than for such plentiful liquor of mercy, which may well match the better of the two."

On the 23rd of October in the following year, 1597, the Lord High Admiral was created Earl of Nottingham for saving his country twice from invasion.

In 1599 he was made Lieutenant-General of all England; in 1601 he was instrumental in crushing the insurrection of Essex. He attended the death-bed of his Queen, being the first cousin of Queen Anne Boleyn; Howard had also married a Carey, the grand-daughter of the Queen's aunt, Mary Boleyn, sister of Queen Anne. He was at this time in great affliction for the death of this lady, and had retired from the Court to grieve in solitude; for the Queen, like her father, hated the sight of mourning. But now she had sent for her faithful Lord Admiral, and he came and knelt by her cushions and fed her with broth with a spoon, and begged her to go to bed, yet she still refused. At last she bade all go away but Howard; then in piteous accents she murmured, "My lord, I am tied by a chain of iron about my neck;" but he knew not if she spoke this in frenzy. We will end this account of the Lord High Admiral by a gayer scene.

It was the year 1608; James I. and Queen Anne of Denmark were spending November at Winchester Palace. They played games from twilight till supper-time; they danced, and the Queen noticed that the old admiral, now over sixty-seven, seemed mighty fond of Lady Margaret Stuart, daughter of the Earl of Murray, a blooming girl of nineteen. Anne told the King, and his Majesty at once made himself very busy in merrily promoting the marriage of the old veteran with his pretty cousin. They were soon married, and, before he died, the Earl of Nottingham had the pleasure of seeing two more children, one of whom succeeded his half-brother in the earldom. His remaining years were spent at Haling House in Surrey, in honourable ease and retirement; he died in his eighty-eighth year, loved and respected by all who knew him. "He was a nobleman," says Camden, "whose courage no danger could daunt, whose fidelity no temptation could corrupt."

CHAPTER VII

SIR RICHARD GRENVILLE, THE HERO OF FLORES

Richard, the son of Sir Roger Grenville, was born about the year 1540, in the west of England, of a family descended from Rollo of Normandy. In his youth he showed the same restless, daring disposition which characterised him all through life. For he was barely twenty-six when he obtained the Queen's permission to serve in Hungary against the Turks, and it is reported that he was on board the Christian fleet in the famous battle of Lepanto, 1566, won by Don John of Austria, and the crowning mercy that saved Europe from Mohammedan rule; so that the Pope, on hearing the news of the victory, exclaimed, "There was a man sent from God, and his name was John."

On his return, being a cousin of Sir Humphrey Gilbert and Sir Walter Raleigh, the Queen took notice of him and sent him to Ireland, to serve under Sir Henry Sidney, who was so well satisfied with his energy and courage that he recommended the Queen to appoint him Sheriff of the city of Cork.

In 1571 Richard Grenville was elected one of the members for the county of Cornwall, and was knighted on becoming High Sheriff of that county.

His acquaintance with Gilbert in Ireland had set his ambition on discovering new lands in Cathay or America; so when in 1584 Raleigh obtained a patent to discover and occupy heathen lands not actually possessed by any Christian prince, Sir Richard Grenville volunteered for the voyage, and was made commander of the squadron that was to plant a first colony in Virginia—an idea of Raleigh's.

A Hollander, John Huighen van Linschoten, gives a full account of Sir Richard's character, as far as he knew it from personal experience.

This Sir Richard Grenville, he says, was a great and a rich gentleman in England and had great yearly revenues of his own inheritance; but he was a man very unquiet in his mind and greatly affected to war; inasmuch as of his own motion he offered his services to the Queen. He had performed many valiant acts, and was greatly feared in these islands and known of every man, but of nature very severe, so that his own people hated him for his fierceness and spake very hardly of him. "He was of so hard a complexion that, as he continued among the Spanish captains while they were at dinner or supper with him, he would carouse three or four glasses of wine, and in a braverie would take the glasses between his teeth and crush them in pieces and swallow them down, so that often-times the blood ran out of his mouth without any harme at all unto him."

Raleigh would have liked to go on the Virginia voyage himself, but had to be content with sending Grenville as Admiral of the Fleet, and Ralph Lane to be Governor of the proposed colony.

The latter was a Northamptonshire man, second cousin to Queen Katherine Parr, about ten years older than Grenville, and one of Leicester's band of equerries to the Queen.

They sailed in April, 1585, from Plymouth with seven vessels, the largest being of 140 tons burthen. Thomas Cavendish was one of their number. Sailing by way of the Canaries to the West Indian Islands, they anchored in Mosquito Bay, in the island of Puerto Rico, within falcon-shot of the shore.

Sir Richard landed and gave orders for a fort to be built in an angle between the river and the sea, backed by woods. There he remained some days, felling the timber and building a pinnace, the Spaniards looking on from afar.

After some days a party of twenty horsemen showed themselves on the opposite bank of the river, carrying a flag of truce; two from either side met on the sands and discussed politely and courteously. When the Spaniards expressed some surprise at the English having built a fort in Spanish territory, they were told that it was only to procure water and food, which if they could not get by fair means, it was their resolution to win by the sword.

Upon this discreet answer the Spaniards made "large promises of all courtesy."

On the morrow, the pinnace being finished, Sir Richard marched some four miles up country, awaiting the Spaniards' performance of their promise to bring victuals. As they did not come up in time—what Spaniard ever does?—Sir Richard swore a little, called them perjured caitiffs, and fired the woods and his fort. Setting sail, he took next evening a Spanish frigate, which the Spaniards forsook at the sight of his squadron. The next night he captured another "with good and rich freight, and divers persons of account in her," whom he ransomed for good round sums.

One of these prizes was sent to Roxo Bay, where Ralph Lane built a fort, while the others busied themselves in stealing a shipload of salt from the Spaniards. After this they sailed for Hispaniola and anchored at Isabella.

The Spanish Governor came to the seaside to meet Grenville, each being very polite and very suspicious of the other; but polite demeanour prevailed. The English provided two banqueting houses, covered with green boughs—one for the gentlemen, the other for the servants; a sumptuous feast was brought in, served all on plate, while the drums and trumpets played lively music, wherewith the Spaniards were vastly delighted.

In return, the Spaniards sent for a great herd of white bulls from the mountains, and lent to each gentleman and captain a horse ready saddled, and then singled three of the strongest of the herd to be hunted.

The pastime grew very pleasant and merry, as there were many onlookers who applauded when one turned a bull in his course. Within the three hours that they were riding up and down they killed two beasts from the saddle; the third having taken to the sea was there shot with a musket.

Sir Thomas More, had Henry the Eighth spared his valuable life, would not have approved such sport; but he was alone in thinking on mercy to animals.

After the sport many rare gifts were exchanged; but Sir Richard said, when he regained his ship, "I always mistrust Spanish politeness. Had we not been so strong we might have met with no better treatment than Hawkins received at St. Juan de Ulloa."

On the 7th of June they sailed away and reached Virginia at the end of the month. But Sir Richard was not thinking so much of colonising as of exploring. He spent seven weeks in coasting about the islands of North Carolina; he made an eight days' expedition inland, receiving kindness from the simple natives, and not always behaving to them very considerately. For instance, we read in the report of one of his company: "One of our boats was sent to demand a silver cup which one of the savages had stolen from us, and, not receiving it according to his promise, we burnt and spoilt their corn and town, all the people being fled."

It is clear that Grenville did not know how to deal with Red Indians. But he also quarrelled with Lane and Thomas Cavendish, and they were glad when he left them on the 28th of August for England, promising to come again soon. On the 8th of September Lane vented some of his bitterness towards Grenville by writing to Walsingham thus: "Sir Richard Grenville, our General, hath demeaned himself, from the first day of his entry into government until the day of his departure, far otherwise than my hope of him, though very agreeable to the expectations and predictions of sundry wise and godly persons of his own country that knew him better than myself." He then goes on to relate how Sir Richard nearly brought him to trial for his life, only for Lane having ventured to give advice in a public council. He goes on bitterly enough: "I have had so much experience of his government as I am humbly to desire your honour and the rest of my honourablest friends to give me their favours to be freed from that place where Sir Richard Grenville is to carry any authority in chief. The Lord hath miraculously blessed this action that, in the time of his being amongst us, even through his intolerable pride and insatiable ambition, it hath not at three several times taken a final overthrow."

We cannot help noticing how difficult a matter it was for some of the Elizabethan heroes to express their thoughts in direct and pithy language. But it is evident that Lane hated Grenville—what Grenville thought of Lane we can only guess; but Lane's way of managing his colony hardly reveals an ability great enough to warrant his attack upon his superior. He wrote another letter in which he praised all he saw and smelt in Virginia: "We have not yet found, in all our search, one stinking weed growing in this land: a matter, in all our opinions here, very strange. The climate is so wholesome, yet somewhat tending to heat, as that we have not had one sick since we entered into the country; but sundry that came sick are recovered of long diseases, especially of rheums."

Lane fixed upon the fertile island of Roanoke, or Plymouth, as the residence of his hundred colonists, built a fort and made entrenchments, but sowed no seed and made no prudent preparations for the future; he seemed to be content to live on what the Indians brought them. But he spent most of his time in exploring and looking for valuables. In a four-oared barge holding fifteen men he tracked the coast northwards as far as Chesapeake Bay, which he preferred to Roanoke. "For pleasantness of seat, for temperature of climate, for fertility of soil, and for the commodity of the sea, besides multitudes of bears—being an excellent good victual—with great woods of sassafras and walnut trees, it is not to be excelled by any other whatsoever."

Lane, in conversation with an Indian chief, heard of a native king who possessed beautiful pearls, white and round and large; this made him eager to leave his colony and explore: this greed was soon to be the cause of his failure. Shortly after, Lane was told that at the head of the Roanoke River was a tribe of Indians who had stores of copper and gold; this determined him to seek it out at once. He rowed for three days up the river, finding that the natives fled at his approach, taking with them all their corn, so that his food began to fail. They had in the boat two mastiffs, and they resolved to go on a little farther, and if need were, they could kill the mastiffs and live upon their "pottage," flavoured with sassafras leaves. So they went up the river farther, and at last heard some savages call "Manteo," an Indian servant they had. "Whereof we all being very glad, hoping of some friendly conference, and making him answer them, they presently began a song, as we thought in token of welcome." Alas! it only meant war, and at once a volley of arrows came sticking into one of the boats. The English landed, and the Indians fled into the woods. No supper! no food! they were now come to the dogs' pottage. So they resolved to row down again, and having the stream with them accomplished in one day what it had taken four days to do up-stream.

But on rejoining his colony Lane found that the Indians, once so friendly, had become subtle enemies. The colonists, many of whom were rough, bad characters, had treated the Indians as slaves, and the slaves had resisted, to their loss and damage. Lane had left trusty guards to take charge of "the wild men of his own nation"; but the guards joined the rest in cruel handling of the natives. The result was that the news spread from tribe to tribe that these white men were devils, not born of women, who had come to waste their corn and slay their people.

When Lane went away, the Indians thought he was dead; now he had come back, they believed he had risen from the grave. It was hardly worth while, they thought, trying to kill people who could rise again and fight! their best plan was to retreat far into the woods. This would have been fatal to the colony, for the Indians alone knew how to make weirs for fish, and they had all the seed-corn.

We can see how Shakespeare must have heard tales of the Indians, or read Sir Walter's "Virginia."

                                        "When thou camst here first,
Thou strok'dst me, and made much of me, would'st teach me how
To name the bigger light, and how the less,
That burn by day and night; and then I loved thee,
And show'd thee all the qualities o' th' isle,
The fresh springs, brine pits, barren place and fertile;—
Cursed be I that did so!"
                                                                                                —Tempest.

At length, in May 1586, the Indians could brook no more such wrongs; they stole into Port Ferdinando, broke up the fish-weirs and wooden huts, and crossed over to the mainland. In June a battle ensued—guns against bows and arrows—the Indians were out-matched and fled. Their king, being shot through with a pistol, lay on the ground for dead; but suddenly started up and ran away as though he had not been touched. But he was shot again, fell and was killed. "I met my man," says Lane, "returning out of the woods with Pemisapan's head in his hand."

The colony was now in despair—a few oysters were found or they would have been starved. One prophet amongst them vowed that "the hand of God had come upon them for the cruelty and outrages committed by some of them on the natives." Then came Drake with three-and-twenty ships out of the misty deep, and at once Ralph Lane saw "the very hand of God stretched out to save them."

On the 19th of June they embarked on Drake's ship and returned to Portsmouth. But they carried with them that wonderful herb uppowoc, or tobacco, which all Europe has now learnt to suck after the manner of the Red Indians, which Edmund Spenser in his "Faerie Queen," writ a few years after, called "divine." Of course Lane blamed Sir Richard Grenville for his failure, since Grenville had promised to return in the spring with fresh colonists and supplies; but he did not arrive until a fortnight after Lane's departure with Drake.

We have given this short sketch of the doings of the colony in Virginia, partly that the reader may judge where the fault lay. It was not Sir Richard's, and it was not wholly Lane's; it was the ill choice of unworthy colonists that really wrecked the scheme; it was their gross ill-treatment of the natives that ruined the settlement. But if Lane had stayed with his own men, instead of hunting for pearls and copper, he might have kept them in better order. But as it happened, the real savages were some few of those English settlers, the off-scouring of England's gaols, and the ill-conduct of the few made the Indians suspicious of all.

Grenville, when he left Virginia for Plymouth, took the opportunity of having a little fight with a richly laden Spaniard of 300 tons burthen, and arrived home rich. He had been unable to fulfil his promise to return in the spring, because Raleigh had a difficulty in raising money for the three ships and their outfit. When Grenville did reach Roanoke, he found all deserted and left in confusion, as if the colonists had been hunted away by a mighty army.

After scouring the country round and making inquiries of the Indians, Grenville left fifteen men on the island with provisions for two years, and set sail for England; but he did not omit to fill his coffers by an attack upon Spanish towns in the Azores, where he seized considerable store of booty.

Perhaps he was not only working for himself, but was thinking of his cousin Walter, who had already spent some forty thousand pounds on these two Virginian expeditions. These prizes did much to recoup him for his great expenses.

For the next five years we have little news of Sir Richard's doings, except that he swept the sea of pirates other than his own countrymen. But in 1591 he was sent out as vice-admiral with seven Queen's ships under Lord Thomas Howard, to intercept the Spanish fleet from the West Indies, which had wintered in Havannah the preceding year by royal order, lest it should fall into the hands of Hawkins and Frobisher. For Philip chose rather to hazard the perishing of ships, men, and goods than that they should become the prize of the English. He was also preparing a large naval force to protect and convoy his treasure; but as it happened the Earl of Cumberland was then off the coast of Spain, and learning their designs sent word to Lord Thomas.

The latter had left Plymouth early in March and made for the Azores; there they waited five months for the West Indian treasure-ships in vain. For Philip had heard of the expedition of Howard and Grenville, and had ordered the further detention of his ships at Havannah, until his fleet could go from Spain to defeat the English, and convoy the treasure safely home.

This was to be the greatest fleet sent out of Spanish ports since the Armada; it comprised over fifty sail, Portuguese, Biscayan, and Andalusian galleys, ten Dutch boats seized near Lisbon, and other smaller craft.

Lord Thomas Howard had six of her Majesty's ships, six victuallers of London, the barque Raleigh, and two or three pinnaces. They were riding at anchor near Flores, one of the westerly islands of the Azores, on an afternoon on the last day of August, when a ship hove in sight, speeding along under full sail.

Captain Middleton reported himself, and announced that he had kept company with a large Spanish fleet three days before; he had crowded on all sail and hastened to bring the news.

As he spoke a cry was raised, "Sail-ho!" and there on the horizon they saw an unwelcome sight—a large force of Spanish war vessels.

It was unwelcome, not only because of their own small numbers, but also because many of the ships' companies were on shore in the island; some providing ballast for their ships, others filling in water and securing provisions. "By reason whereof," says Sir Walter Raleigh, "our ships being all pestered and romaging everything out of order, very light for want of ballast, and that which was most to our disadvantage, the one halfe part of the men of every shippe being sicke and utterly unserviceable; for in the Revenge there were ninety diseased: in the Bonaventure not so many in health as could handle her main-saile. The rest, for the most part, were in little better state."

The island had shrouded the approach of the Spaniards since they were first seen, and now the enemy hove in sight again full near, and our ships had scarce time to weigh their anchors, but some of them were driven to slip their cables and set sail.

Sir Richard was the last that weighed anchor, for he had waited to recover his men that were upon the island, who otherwise would have been lost—"Choosing," says Sir Richard Hawkins, "rather to sacrifice his life, and to pass all danger whatsoever, than to fail in his obligation, by gathering together those who were ashore; though with the hazard of his ship and company."

Raleigh and Hawkins agree in giving this high motive.

Sir William Monson says: "When the Lord Thomas warily, and like a discreet general, weighed anchor and made signs to the rest of his fleet to do the like, with a purpose to get the wind of them, Sir Richard Grenville, being a stubborn man, and imagining this fleet to come from the Indies, and not to be the Armada of which they had been informed, would by no means be persuaded by his master, or company, to cut his cable and follow his admiral; nay, so headlong and rash he was, that he offered violence to those that advised him so to do. But the old saying, that a wilful man is the cause of his own woe, could not be more truly verified than in him; for when the Armada approached, and he beheld the greatness of the ships, he began to see and repent of his folly, and when it was too late, would have freed himself of them, but in vain."

Severe criticism like this, imputing low motives, is in most cases overdone. How does Monson know that Grenville mistook the fleet for treasure-ships? it is a mere surmise, for which there is no evidence. Again, where does Sir Richard seem to repent of his folly? We have Sir Walter Raleigh's statement to the contrary; he says:—

"The Lord Thomas with the rest very hardly recovered the wind, which Sir Richard not being able to do, was persuaded by the master and others to cut his main-sail, and cast about, and to trust to the sailing of his ship; for the squadron of Seville were on his weather-bow. But Sir Richard utterly refused to turn from the enemie, alledging that he would rather choose to die, than to dishonour himself, his country and her Majesty's ship: persuading his company that he would pass through the two squadrons in spite of them, and enforce those of Seville to give way."

Here we have the true motives in the mind of this proud seaman. First, he would not, for any fear of Spain, leave his men behind to be tortured by the Inquisition. Secondly, his pride in his country and his Queen forbade him to fly, however numerous the foe.

No doubt he was a stubborn man—he meant to do what he thought right, and also what he thought within his power to accomplish. He did not foresee the accident which rendered his ship helpless, for boldly he sailed right into the crowd of Spanish galleys; the foremost of them "sprang their luff" and fell under his lee. As he sailed in and out, exchanging broadsides and avoiding collisions, "the great San Felipe, being in the wind of him and coming towards him, becalmed his sails in such sort that the ship could neither make way nor feel the helm; so huge and high-carged was the Spanish ship, being of 1500 tons."

This it was that prevented him from forcing his way through the Armada. Raleigh says, no doubt the other course—sailing away from the foe—had been the better: "Notwithstanding, out of the greatness of his mind, he could not be persuaded." So the San Felipe and some others closed upon the unmoving Revenge; she could not stir upon the water, being becalmed. Amongst others that lay close to board her was the admiral of the Biscayans, a very large and strong ship; she carried three tier of guns on a side, and eleven pieces in every tier. She shot eight forth right out of her chase, besides those of her stern ports.

While the Revenge was entangled with this ship, four other vessels tried to board her, two on her larboard, and two on her starboard side.

The fight began at three in the afternoon and it did not end till dawn next morning, Grenville and his men fighting as Englishmen have seldom fought before or since. The great San Felipe received the lower tier of the Revenge, discharged with cross-bar shot into her bowels. She soon shifted herself from the Revenge with all diligence, "utterly misliking her first entertainment."

The Spanish ships were filled with soldiers, from two hundred in the smaller to eight hundred in the largest; in the Revenge there were only mariners, a few servants of the officers, and some gentlemen volunteers.

Ever and again attempts were made to board the Revenge, but always the Spaniards were beaten back in their own ships with yell and blow.

At first the George Noble of London stayed close by under the lee of the Revenge, having some shot through her. Her captain asked Sir Richard what orders he had for him, being but one of the victuallers and of small force: "Go, save thyself and thy crew, friend; leave me, I pray thee, to my fortune."

As the fight went on hour after hour, ever one ship coming on and going away hurt, while two others were ready to take its place, many of the crew of the Revenge were slain or hurt, and towards nightfall one of the great galleons of the Armada and the admiral of the hulks were both sunk, while the decks of other vessels were crowded with groaning wounded.

Sir Richard, though sore wounded himself, never forsook the upper deck. His eyes were everywhere, directing and encouraging and bidding his men think of the gracious Queen and their homes in fair England: "We are fighting for honour, lads, and our country and this good ship!"

An hour before midnight, Raleigh tells us, Sir Richard was shot in the body with a musket as he was dressing; anon he was shot also in the head shortly after, and withal his chirurgeon was wounded to death, as he stooped over him.

From three of the clock in the previous afternoon, fifteen several great galleons had assailed her, as well as many small barques. So ill did they like their treatment that ere the morning dawned they began to desire some terms of surrender to be offered. The men in the Revenge, too, as the day waxed and the light grew stronger, began to mark how their wounded increased and their fighting men grew scanty. They glanced out over the bulwarks and saw none but enemies baying them round, save one small ship, the Pilgrim, commanded by Jacob Whiddon, who hovered round all night to see what success should fall out; but in the dawning, being seen of the Spaniards, the Pilgrim was hunted away like a hare from a field of wheat amongst many ravenous hounds, all giving tongue and sending their fiery breath towards her; but she was a fast sailer, and by God's blessing escaped their clutches.

Off Flores there took place the pluckiest fight ever recorded in Naval history. The little English ship, manned by only a hundred able men, was beset by a powerful Armada containing many thousands of soldiers; the fight lasted from 3 p.m. until the following morning, and not until all the powder was gone, every spar shot away, and most of the crew, including Sir Richard, disabled, did she surrender.

In the beginning of the fight the little Revenge had only one hundred men free from sickness and able to fight, four-score and ten sick men lay in the hold upon the ballast. These hundred men had had to sustain the volleys, boarding, and hand-to-hand encounters for sixteen hours on end, whereas the Spaniards were well supplied with fresh men brought from every squadron; arms and powder they had at will, and the comfort of knowing they had strong friends near. The English saw no hope before them—only honourable death, if so be; their ship's masts were all beaten overboard, all her tackle cut asunder, her upper works altogether razed, so that she was well-nigh brought even with the water, and could not stir except as she was moved by tide and wave. All her powder was now spent to the last barrel, all her pikes broken, forty of her best men slain, and most of the rest sorely hurt. For they had borne eight hundred charges of heavy artillery and rounds of small shot without number, and at last began to stare at one another as men desperate who have lost their last chance of life.

The Armada were now floating all round the Revenge, not too near, for they suspected danger from her still.

Then Sir Richard sent for the master-gunner, whom he knew to be a most resolute man, and bade him split and sink the ship.

"And Sir Richard cried in his English pride,
    'We have fought such a fight for a day and a night
        As may never be fought again!
        We have won great glory, my men,
        And a day less or more, at sea or ashore,—
            We die—does it matter when?
Sink me the ship, Master Gunner, sink her, split her in twain!
Fall into the hands of God, not into the hands of Spain!"
                                                                                                    —TENNYSON.

So Sir Richard sought to persuade the company, or as many as he could induce, to yield themselves unto God, and to the mercy of none else. The master-gunner readily consented, and so did divers others; but the captain and the master were of another opinion, and besought Sir Richard to have care of them, for many of them might live yet to serve their prince and country. They reminded him that the ship had six foot of water in her hold, three shot under water, which were so weakly stopped that with the first working of the sea she must needs sink; and she was, besides, so crushed and bruised that she could never be removed out of the place.

As the matter was thus in dispute, and as Sir Richard, where he lay, still refused to hearken to any reason, the master was convoyed aboard the General Don Alphonso Baçan, who promised that all their lives should be saved, the crew should be sent to England, and the better sort should pay such reasonable ransom as their estate would bear, and in the meantime might be free from galley or prison. The Don agreed to this so much the rather as he desired to get possession of Sir Richard, whom for his notable valour he greatly honoured and admired.

On this message being delivered, the crew naturally wished to accept the terms and drew back from the master-gunner, who, in a frenzy of grief for his admiral's dishonour, as he thought, drew his sword and would have slain himself on the spot, had not his friends withheld him from it by force and locked him into his cabin.

Then Don Alphonso asked Sir Richard to come out of the Revenge, the ship being marvellous unsavoury, filled with blood and dead bodies and wounded men, like any slaughter-house. To which Sir Richard replied that the Spaniard might do with his body what he list, for he esteemed it not. As they bore him out of the ship, he swooned; when he recovered, he was on the Spaniard's deck, and looking about him said, "I desire you, gentlemen, to pray for me."

The Spanish admiral used Sir Richard with all humanity and tended him well, highly commending his valour and worthiness; but the English hero died on the third day and was buried at sea with all honour.

As he lay surrounded by Spanish hidalgos, who were trying to comfort him in his agony, the dying man half raised himself and said:

"Here die I, Richard Grenville, with a joyful and quiet mind, for that I have ended my life as a good soldier ought to do, who has fought for his country and his Queen, for honour and religion. Wherefore my soul joyfully departeth out of this body, leaving behind it an everlasting fame, as a true soldier who hath done his duty as he was bound to do. But the other of my company have done as traitors and dogs, for which they shall be reproached all their lives."

Lord Thomas Howard did not deserve this condemnation, for he wished to attempt a rescue, but his men refused to follow.

A few days after the fight a great storm from the north-west scattered the fleet, and fourteen Spanish ships went down, together with the Revenge, off St. Michael's Isle. It seemed to the English that Heaven was on the side of the Revenge, for 10,000 Spaniards perished in that storm.

Sir Richard Hawkins, correcting Raleigh's account, wrote that there were on board the Revenge "above 260 men, as by the pay-book appeareth—all which may worthily be written in our chronicles in letters of gold, in memory for all posterities, some to beware, others to imitate, the true valour of our nation in these ages."

CHAPTER VIII

JOHN DAVIS, THE HERO OF THE ARCTIC
AND PACIFIC

John Davis was born near the Gilberts' home about 1550, on the left bank of the Dart, not far from Dartmouth. His father was a yeoman owning a small farm in Sandridge, being part of the parish of Stoke Gabriel. The little inlet or harbour is called Stoke Creek, at the head of which stands the old church; in this are kept the records of the marriage of John Davis. The lordly manor-house of the Pomeroys seemed to look down from its height upon winding river and grove of oaks—the playing-ground of so many heroes—the three Gilberts, Davis, and Walter Raleigh. The boys had only to run down over two pastures and they were at the Cove, overhung with drooping boughs and trailing with dog-roses and honeysuckle. The village of Dittisham, with its plum and apple orchards, its drying nets and rocking-boats, meets the gaze as you look across the lake-like reach of the river....

Greenaway Court, the Gilberts' home, stood up among the woods to the south, and no doubt Adrian Gilbert and the Carew boys and Raleigh must often have raced in their skiffs, or listened to seamen's stories of the doings of John Hawkins in the West Indies. There was another house not far from Dittisham, where Davis as a boy may well have visited, the home of Sir John Fulford, who had two sons of the same age as the younger Gilberts, and four daughters, of whom Faith in after years became the wife of John Davis. John was of course not socially the equal of the others, but his exploits and fame levelled all distinctions as he grew older; and when he was a boy, no doubt he was a brave, modest fellow, good enough to play with his superiors.

Whether John Davis went to the new grammar-school at Totnes we do not know, but it is clear that he was sent to sea at an early age, and studied deeply the science of his profession; for by the time he was twenty-eight he was known to merchants as a captain of great skill and experience.

John returned home in 1579, passing six years at Sandridge, and no doubt enjoying many a sail up the river with Miss Faith Fulford and her sisters.

We can see by the Parish Register that John married Faith on September 29, 1582; they had a pleasant neighbour in Adrian Gilbert, who had married the widow of Andrew Fulford, and was living in the Pomeroy manor-house. Adrian was now a doctor of medicine and an able mathematician, deeply interested in geographical discovery and the science of minerals.

There was a learned geographer, Dr. Dee, living at Mortlake, to whom Adrian one day introduced John Davis; after that they often met and discussed the North-west Passage and other problems of the day. One day in 1585 Secretary Walsingham called in and heard their arguments: a route to the Indies which should be clear of all claims on the part of the Spanish and Portuguese interested the minister.

Having won Walsingham's interest, the two Devon scientists next tried to persuade the merchants of London to join them; then they rode all the way to Exeter and Dartmouth to induce wealthy merchants there to subscribe. Raleigh was at this time high in Court favour; he had been knighted the year before, and was growing rich upon the Queen's gifts. He induced her Majesty to grant a charter to himself, Adrian Gilbert, and John Davis, "for the search and discovery of the North-west Passage to China." Raleigh was at this time very busy with his Virginia colony, but he found time to help his old school-friends.

The expedition, preparing in 1585, consisted of two small ships, the Sunshine of London of 50 tons, and the Moonshine of Dartmouth of 35 tons. Davis commanded the Sunshine, with a crew of eleven seamen, four musicians, a carpenter and a boy, and four officers; they sailed out of Dartmouth harbour on the 7th of June 1585. Davis was now in his thirty-sixth year, and one of the best seamen of his day. Though only the son of a yeoman farmer, he had made many valuable friends, such as Dr. Dee, the Gilberts, Raleigh, Walsingham, the Earl of Warwick, and Mr. Sanderson, a rich city merchant; the Earl of Cumberland and Lord Lumley had sought his acquaintance. What is more, Davis was beloved by the men under his command, for he was ever thoughtful of their welfare both before he sailed and after he returned home; for his kindness proceeded from the heart.

In these scientific days of Arctic discovery we have learnt what sort of food and clothing is best for our explorers; in those days all was in the experimental stage. Their provisions consisted of cod and salt-meat, bread and grease, butter and cheese and beer.

As they were obliged to anchor for twelve days off the Scilly Isles, Davis took the opportunity of making a survey of all the islands, the rocks and havens. When they got out into the Atlantic they had some sport trying to harpoon porpoises, the flesh of which they thought as good as mutton. Whales too were seen in much larger numbers than are found now; for like many other interesting and valuable species, whales have been recklessly destroyed through the greed of man.

On the 19th of July, in a dense mist, they heard "a mighty great roaring"; Captain Davis had a boat lowered and rowed to find out the cause thereof. He found that the ships were close to some pack-ice, the large fragments of which were grinding together. Next day was clear, and they saw the snow-clad mountains of Greenland, but could not land for the ice; here they saw many seals and white birds. They rounded the southern point of Greenland, and were in the channel that lies between Greenland and Labrador. Finding a fiord some miles up the coast he named it Gilbert Sound, after his friend and his first-born child. It was near this spot that they heard the Eskimos shouting, so Davis took a boat and four musicians, as it was known the natives loved music. In a short time perfect confidence was established and they began to barter, kayaks or boats and native clothing being in some demand. Later they managed to kill a Polar bear, which came in useful, as the men were clamouring for better food.

They next sailed west, and explored Cumberland Gulf. On landing they heard dogs barking, and when they came up very gently, "we thought they came to prey upon us and therefore we shot two; but about the neck of one of them we found a leathern collar, whereupon we thought them to be tame dogs." After this a strong north-west wind blew, and as it was near the end of August they resolved to return to England, and arrived at Dartmouth on the 30th of September.

Adrian Gilbert gave his friend Davis a warm welcome home, and of course wife and child made home more homelike. But not many days after his arrival the explorer wrote to Walsingham, "The North-west Passage is a matter nothing doubtful, but at any tyme almost to be passed, the sea navigable, voyd of yse, the ayre tolerable, and the waters very depe."

We notice that the spelling of all words of Latin origin is good; it is the English word that varies most from our spelling. Anyway, he is far superior in education to the Earl of Cumberland.

Davis also pointed out in his letter how good an opening there was in the lands he had discovered for trade in oil and furs.

A hasty visit to London resulted in many merchants subscribing for a second voyage, and the Mermaid, the Sunshine, Moonshine, and North Star, a small pinnace, were chartered for it. They sailed from Dartmouth on the 7th of May 1586, and coasted along the south shore of Ireland; then Captain Pope in the Sunshine, with the North Star as a tender, was despatched to search for a passage northward between Greenland and Iceland, while Davis went as far as the southern end of Greenland, But the pack-ice made it impossible to land, so naming the cape "Farewell" he again entered Davis Straits. On reaching Gilbert Sound he met so violent a gale that he was obliged to take shelter among the islands which fringe the shore.

Davis writes: "We sent our boats to search for shoal water, where we might anchor, and as the boat went sounding and searching, the natives having espied them, came in their canoes towards them with shouts and cries; but after they had espied in the boat some of our company that were the year before here with us, they presently rowed to the boat, took hold on the oar, and hung about the boat with such comfortable joy as would require a long discourse to be uttered."

Davis, seeing their confidence, went ashore and distributed twenty knives: "They offered skins to me for reward, but I made signs that they were not sold, but given them of courtesie." The next day, as the crew were setting up a new pinnace, more than a hundred canoes came round, bringing seal-skins and other furs for barter.

Davis and a party went inland, finding a plateau of grass and moss, and many ravens and small birds. In July, after more exploring, in which the natives kept him company, Davis organised athletic games, leaping and wrestling—"In this we found them strong and nimble, for they cast some of our men that were good wrestlers."

The people were of good stature, with small hands and feet, broad faces, small deep-set eyes, wide mouths, and beardless; they wore images and believed in enchantments. But other failings soon appeared, for they were "marvellous thievish," began to cut the cables, cut away the Moonshine's boat from her stern, stole oars, a caliver, a boar-spear and swords. Davis was for forbearance, but his men were angry, and complained heavily, "said that my lenitie and friendly using of them gave them stomacke to mischiefe." Still Davis went on giving presents, but at sundown the Eskimos began throwing stones into the Moonshine, which caused a pursuit and some shots. At last they captured one of the thieves, and another followed with lamentation as far as the ship. "At length the fellow aboard us spake four or five words unto the other and clapped his two hands upon his face, whereupon the other doing the like, departed as we supposed with heavy cheer. We judged the covering of the face with his hands and bowing of his body down, signified his death." But it was not quite so bad as that, for they gave the captive a new suit of frieze, of which he was very joyful; he became sociable, trimmed up his darts and fishing tools, and would set his hand to a rope's end upon occasion.

They soon came upon a mountain of ice and could not get on; the men grew sick and feeble and begged Davis to return, so he sailed south-east and found land free from snow. When they came to lat. 67°, they found numbers of gulls and mews, and caught a hundred cod in half-an-hour. Landing, they found a black bear, pheasants, partridges, wild ducks, and geese, and killed some with bow and arrow.

On the 6th of September Davis sent some young sailors ashore to fetch fish, but they were suddenly assailed in a wood, two being slain by arrows. Immediately after, a tremendous storm almost drove them on the rocks among these "cannibals." "But when hope was past, the mighty mercy of God gave us succour and sent us a fair lee, so as we recovered our anchor again and now moored our ship, where we saw that God manifestly delivered us; for the strains of one of our cables were broken, and we only rode by an old junk."

They reached home in October, bringing five hundred sealskins and other furs. The Sunshine and North Star made the east coast of Greenland by July 7th, but found pack-ice, so they sailed round and north to Gilbert Sound, where the crews played football with the Eskimos. The North Star was lost in a gale, and the Sunshine came home alone on the 6th of October.

So they had explored a vast extent of unknown coast, and entered many fiords. They had not found the Northwest Passage, but had found Hudson Strait, and concluded correctly that the "north parts of America are all islands."

Had they taken plenty of salt and fishing-tackle they might have brought home a large cargo of fish, but they brought home the knowledge that a great trade was possible in the far North. Though Davis, on going west to his own county, tried to persuade the merchants that another voyage might be more successful, he did not succeed in rousing their sympathies so far as to give more subscriptions.

But on going home he found another little son, Arthur, and with his wife and old friend, Adrian Gilbert, enjoyed a pleasant autumn.

In the winter the restless adventurer rode up to London with Gilbert, and they visited the merchant-prince, William Sanderson, who gained for Davis enough help to fit out a third voyage to the Arctic. In our days rich men have so much scientific spirit that they—some of them—will consent to subscribe for Arctic and Antarctic voyages for purely scientific purposes. In the great Queen's days they looked for some return in hard cash, or furs, or stones and metal of value. But Davis's old shipmates loved him and were eager to volunteer again, and some were natives of the villages round Stoke Gabriel.

On the 19th of May 1587, the Sunshine, Elizabeth, and Ellen started from Dartmouth, the former to fish and make profit. But when they reached Gilbert Sound Davis resolved to send the two other ships to the fishery, while he in the Ellen, a pinnace of 20 tons, went north. In estimating the exploits of these men, we must remember how ill they were fitted out compared with modern explorers. At the very first the pilot of the Ellen came to report a leak, and it was debated whether they should risk their lives in exploring.

But when Davis addressed his little crew and said, "My boys, it will be far better that we should end our lives with credit than return in disgrace," they one and all agreed to go on with their captain.

They went along the west coast of Greenland, calling it the London Coast, and by the 30th of June had reached lat. 72'12°, the most northerly point Davis ever reached. Here an island with a cliff 850 feet high was named "Sanderson his hope"; along the narrow, dark ledges of this giant rock nestled myriads of white guillemots, screaming and circling as busily they fed their young.

The sea was clear of ice, save that the Dreadnoughts of the North, towering icebergs, reflected the sunshine in strange fantastic ways, and floated proudly down to warmer waters. Beyond them lay "a great sea, free, large, very salt and blue, and of an unsearchable depth."

But on the 2nd of July they met "the Middle Pack," a hundred miles long or more, and eight feet thick. The Ellen tried to find a passage through in vain, so they drifted west till they sighted the western coast of Davis Strait. Davis took many observations which were useful to succeeding explorers; he says in his log: "We fell into a mighty race, where an island of ice was carried by the force of the current as fast as our bark could sail. We saw the sea falling down into the gulf with a mighty overfall, roaring, with divers circular motions like whirlpools."

They were to meet the fishing-vessels off the Labrador coast; but these had gone home without waiting for Davis; and as they were being sought, the Ellen ran upon a rock and sprung a leak. This was mended with difficulty in a gale; then, with little fuel and less water, Davis headed for home. "Being forsaken and left in this distress," he says, "referring myself to the merciful providence of God, I shaped my course for England, and unhoped for of any, God alone relieving me, I arrived at Dartmouth."

The log of his third voyage is the only one that has been left, but we have no means of knowing if the fishing was successful.

When Davis came home all England was talking of a Spanish invasion, and the Queen had no time to think of him and his discoveries. On reaching home he found a third little son awaiting him, named John, after his father.

Though London and Greenwich and Exeter neglected Davis for a time, yet he had done good work in discovering, or mapping afresh many coasts and seas; he examined rocks and fiords, made notes on the vegetation and fauna and on the habits and thoughts of the Eskimo tribes; he also explored the coast of Labrador and called attention to the lucrative trade in whales, seal, and fish which might be established.

When the Armada came, John Davis was appointed to the command of a vessel of 20 tons, the Black Dog, to act as a tender to the Lord Admiral, with a crew of ten men and an armament of three guns. Here Davis was of use to the flagship as a pilot, for no one had taken more intelligent interest in surveying the coast and marking shoals than he. We need not go again through the events of the long fight, but it was in the fight off the Isle of Wight that Davis saw the fiercest action, when Admiral Oquendo in his flagship, of 900 tons, rammed the stern of the English flagship, the Ark Royal, and unshipped her rudder.

After ten days of severe work Davis returned to Plymouth, and was at home when his fourth child was born, named Philip! Another memorial of the Armada times was a work on navigation, written by Davis and dedicated to Lord Howard of Effingham.