ENGLISH SEAMEN IN THE SIXTEENTH CENTURY _LECTURES DELIVERED AT OXFORD EASTER TERMS 1893-4_ BY JAMES ANTHONY FROUDE LATE REGIUS PROFESSOR OF MODERN HISTORY IN THE UNIVERSITY OF OXFORD New EditionLONDONLONGMANS, GREEN, AND CO. 1896[_All rights reserved_]RICHARD CLAY & SONS, LIMITED, LONDON & BUNGAY. CONTENTS LECTURE PAGE I. THE SEA CRADLE OF THE REFORMATION 1 II. JOHN HAWKINS AND THE AFRICAN SLAVE TRADE 35 III. SIR JOHN HAWKINS AND PHILIP THE SECOND 68 IV. DRAKE'S VOYAGE ROUND THE WORLD 102 V. PARTIES IN THE STATE 141 VI. THE GREAT EXPEDITION TO THE WEST INDIES 176 VII. ATTACK ON CADIZ 207 VIII. SAILING OF THE ARMADA 238 IX. DEFEAT OF THE ARMADA 272 LECTURE I THE SEA CRADLE OF THE REFORMATION Jean Paul, the German poet, said that God had given to France the empireof the land, to England the empire of the sea, and to his own countrythe empire of the air. The world has changed since Jean Paul's days. Thewings of France have been clipped; the German Empire has become a solidthing; but England still holds her watery dominion; Britannia does stillrule the waves, and in this proud position she has spread the Englishrace over the globe; she has created the great American nation; she ispeopling new Englands at the Antipodes; she has made her Queen Empressof India; and is in fact the very considerable phenomenon in the socialand political world which all acknowledge her to be. And all this shehas achieved in the course of three centuries, entirely in consequenceof her predominance as an ocean power. Take away her merchant fleets;take away the navy that guards them: her empire will come to an end; hercolonies will fall off, like leaves from a withered tree; and Britainwill become once more an insignificant island in the North Sea, for thefuture students in Australian and New Zealand universities to discussthe fate of in their debating societies. How the English navy came to hold so extraordinary a position is worthreflecting on. Much has been written about it, but little, as it seemsto me, which touches the heart of the matter. We are shown the power ofour country growing and expanding. But how it grew, why, after a sleepof so many hundred years, the genius of our Scandinavian forefatherssuddenly sprang again into life--of this we are left withoutexplanation. The beginning was undoubtedly the defeat of the Spanish Armada in 1588. Down to that time the sea sovereignty belonged to the Spaniards, and hadbeen fairly won by them. The conquest of Granada had stimulated andelevated the Spanish character. The subjects of Ferdinand and Isabella, of Charles V. And Philip II. , were extraordinary men, and accomplishedextraordinary things. They stretched the limits of the known world; theyconquered Mexico and Peru; they planted their colonies over the SouthAmerican continent; they took possession of the great West Indianislands, and with so firm a grasp that Cuba at least will never lose themark of the hand which seized it. They built their cities as if foreternity. They spread to the Indian Ocean, and gave their monarch's nameto the _Philippines_. All this they accomplished in half a century, and, as it were, they did it with a single hand; with the other they werefighting Moors and Turks and protecting the coast of the Mediterraneanfrom the corsairs of Tunis and Constantinople. They had risen on the crest of the wave, and with their proud _Nonsufficit orbis_ were looking for new worlds to conquer, at a time whenthe bark of the English water-dogs had scarcely been heard beyond theirown fishing-grounds, and the largest merchant vessel sailing from theport of London was scarce bigger than a modern coasting collier. And yetwithin the space of a single ordinary life these insignificant islandershad struck the sceptre from the Spaniards' grasp and placed the oceancrown on the brow of their own sovereign. How did it come about? WhatCadmus had sown dragons' teeth in the furrows of the sea for the race tospring from who manned the ships of Queen Elizabeth, who carried theflag of their own country round the globe, and challenged and fought theSpaniards on their own coasts and in their own harbours? The English sea power was the legitimate child of the Reformation. Itgrew, as I shall show you, directly out of the new despisedProtestantism. Matthew Parker and Bishop Jewel, the judicious Hookerhimself, excellent men as they were, would have written and preached tosmall purpose without Sir Francis Drake's cannon to play anaccompaniment to their teaching. And again, Drake's cannon would nothave roared so loudly and so widely without seamen already trained inheart and hand to work his ships and level his artillery. It was to thesuperior seamanship, the superior quality of English ships and crews, that the Spaniards attributed their defeat. Where did these ships comefrom? Where and how did these mariners learn their trade? Historianstalk enthusiastically of the national spirit of a people rising with aunited heart to repel the invader, and so on. But national spirit couldnot extemporise a fleet or produce trained officers and sailors to matchthe conquerors of Lepanto. One slight observation I must make here atstarting, and certainly with no invidious purpose. It has been saidconfidently, it has been repeated, I believe, by all modern writers, that the Spanish invasion suspended in England the quarrels of creed, and united Protestants and Roman Catholics in defence of their Queen andcountry. They remind us especially that Lord Howard of Effingham, whowas Elizabeth's admiral, was himself a Roman Catholic. But was it so?The Earl of Arundel, the head of the House of Howard, was a RomanCatholic, and he was in the Tower praying for the success of MedinaSidonia. Lord Howard of Effingham was no more a Roman Catholic than--Ihope I am not taking away their character--than the present Archbishopof Canterbury or the Bishop of London. He was a Catholic, but an EnglishCatholic, as those reverend prelates are. Roman Catholic he could notpossibly have been, nor anyone who on that great occasion was found onthe side of Elizabeth. A Roman Catholic is one who acknowledges theRoman Bishop's authority. The Pope had excommunicated Elizabeth, hadpronounced her deposed, had absolved her subjects from their allegiance, and forbidden them to fight for her. No Englishman who fought on thatgreat occasion for English liberty was, or could have been, in communionwith Rome. Loose statements of this kind, lightly made, fall in with themodern humour. They are caught up, applauded, repeated, and passunquestioned into history. It is time to correct them a little. I have in my possession a detailed account of the temper of parties inEngland, drawn up in the year 1585, three years before the Armada came. The writer was a distinguished Jesuit. The account itself was preparedfor the use of the Pope and Philip, with a special view to the receptionwhich an invading force would meet with, and it goes into great detail. The people of the towns--London, Bristol, &c. --were, he says, generallyheretics. The peers, the gentry, their tenants, and peasantry, whoformed the immense majority of the population, were almost universallyCatholics. But this writer distinguishes properly among Catholics. Therewere the ardent impassioned Catholics, ready to be confessors andmartyrs, ready to rebel at the first opportunity, who had renouncedtheir allegiance, who desired to overthrow Elizabeth and put the Queenof Scots in her place. The number of these, he says, was dailyincreasing, owing to the exertions of the seminary priests; and plots, he boasts, were being continually formed by them to murder the Queen. There were Catholics of another sort, who were papal at heart, but wentwith the times to save their property; who looked forward to a change inthe natural order of things, but would not stir of themselves till aninvading army actually appeared. But all alike, he insists, were eagerfor a revolution. Let the Prince of Parma come, and they would all joinhim; and together these two classes of Catholics made three-fourths ofthe nation. 'The only party, ' he says (and this is really noticeable), 'the onlyparty that would fight to death for the Queen, the only real friends shehad, were the _Puritans_ (it is the first mention of the name which Ihave found), the Puritans of London, the Puritans of the sea towns. 'These he admits were dangerous, desperate, determined men. The numbersof them, however, were providentially small. The date of this document is, as I said, 1585, and I believe itgenerally accurate. The only mistake is that among the AnglicanCatholics there were a few to whom their country was as dear as theircreed--a few who were beginning to see that under the Act of UniformityCatholic doctrine might be taught and Catholic ritual practised; whoadhered to the old forms of religion, but did not believe that obedienceto the Pope was a necessary part of them. One of these was Lord Howardof Effingham, whom the Queen placed in his high command to secure thewavering fidelity of the peers and country gentlemen. But the force, thefire, the enthusiasm came (as the Jesuit saw) from the Puritans, frommen of the same convictions as the Calvinists of Holland and Rochelle;men who, driven from the land, took to the ocean as their natural home, and nursed the Reformation in an ocean cradle. How the seagoingpopulation of the North of Europe took so strong a Protestant impressionit is the purpose of these lectures to explain. Henry VIII. On coming to the throne found England without a fleet, andwithout a conscious sense of the need of one. A few merchant hulkstraded with Bordeaux and Cadiz and Lisbon; hoys and fly-boats driftedslowly backwards and forwards between Antwerp and the Thames. A fishingfleet tolerably appointed went annually to Iceland for cod. Localfishermen worked the North Sea and the Channel from Hull to Falmouth. The Chester people went to Kinsale for herrings and mackerel: but thatwas all--the nation had aspired to no more. Columbus had offered the New World to Henry VII. While the discovery wasstill in the air. He had sent his brother to England with maps andglobes, and quotations from Plato to prove its existence. Henry, like apractical Englishman, treated it as a wild dream. The dream had come from the gate of horn. America was found, and theSpaniard, and not the English, came into first possession of it. Still, America was a large place, and John Cabot the Venetian with his sonSebastian tried Henry again. England might still be able to secure aslice. This time Henry VII. Listened. Two small ships were fitted out atBristol, crossed the Atlantic, discovered Newfoundland, coasted down toFlorida looking for a passage to Cathay, but could not find one. Theelder Cabot died; the younger came home. The expedition failed, and nointerest had been roused. With the accession of Henry VIII. A new era had opened--a new era inmany senses. Printing was coming into use--Erasmus and his companionswere shaking Europe with the new learning, Copernican astronomy waschanging the level disk of the earth into a revolving globe, and turningdizzy the thoughts of mankind. Imagination was on the stretch. Thereality of things was assuming proportions vaster than fancy had dreamt, and unfastening established belief on a thousand sides. The young Henrywas welcomed by Erasmus as likely to be the glory of the age that wasopening. He was young, brilliant, cultivated, and ambitious. To whatmight he not aspire under the new conditions! Henry VIII. Was all that, but he was cautious and looked about him. Europe was full of wars inwhich he was likely to be entangled. His father had left the treasurywell furnished. The young King, like a wise man, turned his firstattention to the broad ditch, as he called the British Channel, whichformed the natural defence of the realm. The opening of the Atlantic hadrevolutionised war and seamanship. Long voyages required larger vessels. Henry was the first prince to see the place which gunpowder was goingto hold in wars. In his first years he repaired his dockyards, built newships on improved models, and imported Italians to cast him new types ofcannon. 'King Harry loved a man, ' it was said, and knew a man when hesaw one. He made acquaintance with sea captains at Portsmouth andSouthampton. In some way or other he came to know one Mr. WilliamHawkins, of Plymouth, and held him in especial esteem. This Mr. Hawkins, under Henry's patronage, ventured down to the coast of Guinea andbrought home gold and ivory; crossed over to Brazil; made friends withthe Brazilian natives; even brought back with him the king of thosecountries, who was curious to see what England was like, and presentedhim to Henry at Whitehall. Another Plymouth man, Robert Thorne, again with Henry's help, went outto look for the North-west passage which Cabot had failed to find. Thorne's ship was called the _Dominus Vobiscum_, a pious aspirationwhich, however, secured no success. A London man, a Master Hore, triednext. Master Hore, it is said, was given to cosmography, was aplausible talker at scientific meetings, and so on. He persuaded 'diversyoung lawyers' (briefless barristers, I suppose) and othergentlemen--altogether a hundred and twenty of them--to join him. Theyprocured two vessels at Gravesend. They took the sacrament togetherbefore sailing. They apparently relied on Providence to take care ofthem, for they made little other preparation. They reached Newfoundland, but their stores ran out, and their ships went on shore. In the land offish they did not know how to use line and bait. They fed on roots andbilberries, and picked fish-bones out of the ospreys' nests. At lastthey began to eat one another--careless of Master Hore, who told themthey would go to unquenchable fire. A French vessel came in. They seizedher with the food she had on board and sailed home in her, leaving theFrench crew to their fate. The poor French happily found means offollowing them. They complained of their treatment, and Henry ordered aninquiry; but finding, the report says, the great distress Master Hore'sparty had been in, was so moved with pity, that he did not punish them, but out of his own purse made royal recompense to the French. Something better than gentlemen volunteers was needed if navalenterprise was to come to anything in England. The long wars betweenFrancis I. And Charles V. Brought the problem closer. On land thefighting was between the regular armies. At sea privateers were letloose out of French, Flemish, and Spanish ports. Enterprisingindividuals took out letters of marque and went cruising to take thechance of what they could catch. The Channel was the chiefhunting-ground, as being the highway between Spain and the LowCountries. The interval was short between privateers and pirates. Vessels of all sorts passed into the business. The Scilly Isles became apirate stronghold. The creeks and estuaries in Cork and Kerry furnishedhiding-places where the rovers could lie with security and share theirplunder with the Irish chiefs. The disorder grew wilder when the divorceof Catherine of Aragon made Henry into the public enemy of Papal Europe. English traders and fishing-smacks were plundered and sunk. Their crewswent armed to defend themselves, and from Thames mouth to Land's End theChannel became the scene of desperate fights. The type of vessel alteredto suit the new conditions. Life depended on speed of sailing. The StatePapers describe squadrons of French or Spaniards flying about, dashinginto Dartmouth, Plymouth, or Falmouth, cutting out English coasters, orfighting one another. After Henry was excommunicated, and Ireland rebelled, and England itselfthreatened disturbance, the King had to look to his security. He madelittle noise about it. But the Spanish ambassador reported him assilently building ships in the Thames and at Portsmouth. As invasionseemed imminent, he began with sweeping the seas of the looser vermin. Afew swift well-armed cruisers pushed suddenly out of the Solent, caughtand destroyed a pirate fleet in Mount's Bay, sent to the bottom someFlemish privateers in the Downs, and captured the Flemish admiralhimself. Danger at home growing more menacing, and the monks spreadingthe fire which grew into the Pilgrimage of Grace, Henry suppressed theabbeys, sold the lands, and with the proceeds armed the coast withfortresses. 'You threaten me, ' he seemed to say to them, 'that you willuse the wealth our fathers gave you to overthrow my Government and bringin the invader. I will take your wealth, and I will use it to disappointyour treachery. ' You may see the remnants of Henry's work in thefortresses anywhere along the coast from Berwick to the Land's End. Louder thundered the Vatican. In 1539 Henry's time appeared to havecome. France and Spain made peace, and the Pope's sentence was nowexpected to be executed by Charles or Francis, or both. A crowd ofvessels large and small was collected in the Scheldt, for what purposesave to transport an army into England? Scotland had joined the CatholicLeague. Henry fearlessly appealed to the English people. Catholic peersand priests might conspire against him, but, explain it how we will, thenation was loyal to Henry and came to his side. The London merchantsarmed their ships in the river. From the seaports everywhere came armedbrigantines and sloops. The fishermen of the West left their boats andnets to their wives, and the fishing was none the worse, for the womenhandled oar and sail and line and went to the whiting-grounds, whiletheir husbands had gone to fight for their King. Genius kindled intodiscovery at the call of the country. Mr. Fletcher of Rye (be his nameremembered) invented a boat the like of which was never seen before, which would work to windward, with sails trimmed fore and aft, thegreatest revolution yet made in shipbuilding. A hundred and fifty sailcollected at Sandwich to match the armament in the Scheldt; andMarillac, the French ambassador, reported with amazement the energy ofKing and people. The Catholic Powers thought better of it. This was not the England whichReginald Pole had told them was longing for their appearance. TheScheldt force dispersed. Henry read Scotland a needed lesson. The Scotshad thought to take him at disadvantage, and sit on his back when theEmperor attacked him. One morning when the people at Leith woke out oftheir sleep, they found an English fleet in the Roads; and before theyhad time to look about them, Leith was on fire and Edinburgh was taken. Charles V. , if he had ever seriously thought of invading Henry, returnedto wiser counsels, and made an alliance with him instead. The Popeturned to France. If the Emperor forsook him, the Most Christian Kingwould help. He promised Francis that if he could win England he mightkeep it for himself. Francis resolved to try what he could do. Five years had passed since the gathering at Sandwich. It was now thesummer of 1544. The records say that the French collected at Havre near300 vessels, fighting ships, galleys, and transports. Doubtless thenumbers are far exaggerated, but at any rate it was the largest forceever yet got together to invade England, capable, if well handled, ofbringing Henry to his knees. The plan was to seize and occupy the Isleof Wight, destroy the English fleet, then take Portsmouth andSouthampton, and so advance on London. Henry's attention to his navy had not slackened. He had built ship onship. The _Great Harry_ was a thousand tons, carried 700 men, and wasthe wonder of the day. There were a dozen others scarcely lessimposing. The King called again on the nation, and again the nationanswered. In England altogether there were 150, 000 men in arms in fieldor garrison. In the King's fleet at Portsmouth there were 12, 000 seamen, and the privateers of the West crowded up eagerly as before. It isstrange, with the notions which we have allowed ourselves to form ofHenry, to observe the enthusiasm with which the whole country, as yetundivided by doctrinal quarrels, rallied a second time to defend him. In this Portsmouth fleet lay undeveloped the genius of the future navalgreatness of England. A small fact connected with it is worth recording. The watchword on board was, 'God save the King'; the answer was, 'Longto reign over us': the earliest germ discoverable of the EnglishNational Anthem. The King had come himself to Portsmouth to witness the expected attack. The fleet was commanded by Lord Lisle, afterwards Duke ofNorthumberland. It was the middle of July. The French crossed from Havreunfought with, and anchored in St. Helens Roads off Brading Harbour. The English, being greatly inferior in numbers, lay waiting for theminside the Spit. The morning after the French came in was still andsultry. The English could not move for want of wind. The galleys crossedover and engaged them for two or three hours with some advantage. Thebreeze rose at noon; a few fast sloops got under way and easily drovethem back. But the same breeze which enabled the English to move broughta serious calamity with it. The Mary Rose, one of Lisle's finestvessels, had been under the fire of the galleys. Her ports had been leftopen, and when the wind sprang up, she heeled over, filled, and wentdown, carrying two hundred men along with her. The French saw her sink, and thought their own guns had done it. They hoped to follow up theirsuccess. At night they sent over boats to take soundings, and discoverthe way into the harbour. The boats reported that the sandbanks made theapproach impossible. The French had no clear plan of action. They trieda landing in the island, but the force was too small, and failed. Theyweighed anchor and brought up again behind Selsea Bill, where Lisleproposed to run them down in the dark, taking advantage of the tide. Butthey had an enemy to deal with worse than Lisle, on board their ownships, which explained their distracted movements. Hot weather, putridmeat, and putrid water had prostrated whole ships' companies withdysentery. After a three weeks' ineffectual cruise they had to hastenback to Havre, break up, and disperse. The first great armament whichwas to have recovered England to the Papacy had effected nothing. Henryhad once more shown his strength, and was left undisputed master of thenarrow seas. So matters stood for what remained of Henry's reign. As far as he hadgone, he had quarrelled with the Pope, and had brought the Church underthe law. So far the country generally had gone with him, and there hadbeen no violent changes in the administration of religion. When Henrydied the Protector abolished the old creed, and created a new andperilous cleavage between Protestant and Catholic, and, while Englandneeded the protection of a navy more than ever, allowed the fine fleetwhich Henry had left to fall into decay. The spirit of enterprise grewwith the Reformation. Merchant companies opened trade with Russia andthe Levant; adventurous sea captains went to Guinea for gold. Sir HughWilloughby followed the phantom of the North-west Passage, turningeastward round the North Cape to look for it, and perished in the ice. English commerce was beginning to grow in spite of the Protector'sexperiments; but a new and infinitely dangerous element had beenintroduced by the change of religion into the relations of Englishsailors with the Catholic Powers, and especially with Spain. In theirzeal to keep out heresy, the Spanish Government placed their harboursunder the control of the Holy Office. Any vessel in which an hereticalbook was found was confiscated, and her crew carried to the Inquisitionprisons. It had begun in Henry's time. The Inquisitors attempted totreat schism as heresy and arrest Englishmen in their ports. But Henryspoke up stoutly to Charles V. , and the Holy Office had been made tohold its hand. All was altered now. It was not necessary that a poorsailor should have been found teaching heresy. It was enough if he hadan English Bible and Prayer Book with him in his kit; and stories wouldcome into Dartmouth or Plymouth how some lad that everybody knew--Billor Jack or Tom, who had wife or father or mother among them, perhaps--had been seized hold of for no other crime, been flung into adungeon, tortured, starved, set to work in the galleys, or burned in afool's coat, as they called it, at an _auto da fé_ at Seville. The object of the Inquisition was partly political: it was meant toembarrass trade and make the people impatient of changes which producedso much inconvenience. The effect was exactly the opposite. Suchaccounts when brought home created fury. There grew up in the seagoingpopulation an enthusiasm of hatred for that holy institution, and apassionate desire for revenge. The natural remedy would have been war; but the division of nations wascrossed by the division of creeds; and each nation had allies in theheart of every other. If England went to war with Spain, Spain couldencourage insurrection among the Catholics. If Spain or France declaredwar against England, England could help the Huguenots or the HollandCalvinists. All Governments were afraid alike of a general war ofreligion which might shake Europe in pieces. Thus individuals were leftto their natural impulses. The Holy Office burnt English or FrenchProtestants wherever it could catch them. The Protestants revenged theirinjuries at their own risk and in their own way, and thus from EdwardVI. 's time to the end of the century privateering came to be the specialoccupation of adventurous honourable gentlemen, who could serve God, their country, and themselves in fighting Catholics. Fleets of thesedangerous vessels swept the Channel, lying in wait at Scilly, or even atthe Azores--disowned in public by their own Governments while secretlycountenanced, making war on their own account on what they called theenemies of God. In such a business, of course, there were many merepirates engaged who cared neither for God nor man. But it was theProtestants who were specially impelled into it by the cruelties of theInquisition. The Holy Office began the work with the _autos da fé_. Theprivateers robbed, burnt, and scuttled Catholic ships in retaliation. One fierce deed produced another, till right and wrong were obscured inthe passion of religious hatred. Vivid pictures of these wild doingssurvive in the English and Spanish State Papers. Ireland was the rovers'favourite haunt. In the universal anarchy there, a little more or alittle less did not signify. Notorious pirate captains were to be met inCork or Kinsale, collecting stores, casting cannon, or selling theirprizes--men of all sorts, from fanatical saints to undisguised ruffians. Here is one incident out of many to show the heights to which temper hadrisen. 'Long peace, ' says someone, addressing the Privy Council early inElizabeth's time, 'becomes by force of the Spanish Inquisition morehurtful than open war. It is the secret, determined policy of Spain todestroy the English fleet, pilots, masters and sailors, by means of theInquisition. The Spanish King pretends he dares not offend the HolyHouse, while we in England say we may not proclaim war against Spain inrevenge of a few. Not long since the Spanish Inquisition executed sixtypersons of St. Malo, notwithstanding entreaty to the King of Spain tospare them. Whereupon the Frenchmen armed their pinnaces, lay for theSpaniards, took a hundred and beheaded them, sending the Spanish shipsto the shore with their heads, leaving in each ship but one man torender the cause of the revenge. Since which time Spanish Inquisitorshave never meddled with those of St. Malo. ' A colony of Huguenot refugees had settled on the coast of Florida. TheSpaniards heard of it, came from St. Domingo, burnt the town, and hangedevery man, woman, and child, leaving an inscription explaining that thepoor creatures had been killed, not as Frenchmen, but as heretics. Domenique de Gourges, of Rochelle, heard of this fine exploit offanaticism, equipped a ship, and sailed across. He caught the Spanishgarrison which had been left in occupation and swung them on the sametrees--with a second scroll saying that they were dangling there, not asSpaniards, but as murderers. The genius of adventure tempted men of highest birth into the rovers'ranks. Sir Thomas Seymour, the Protector's brother and the King's uncle, was Lord High Admiral. In his time of office, complaints were made byforeign merchants of ships and property seized at the Thames mouth. Noredress could be had; no restitution made; no pirate was even punished, and Seymour's personal followers were seen suspiciously decorated withSpanish ornaments. It appeared at last that Seymour had himself boughtthe Scilly Isles, and if he could not have his way at Court, it was saidthat he meant to set up there as a pirate chief. The persecution under Mary brought in more respectable recruits thanSeymour. The younger generation of the western families had grown withthe times. If they were not theologically Protestant, they detestedtyranny. They detested the marriage with Philip, which threatened theindependence of England. At home they were powerless, but the sons ofhonourable houses--Strangways, Tremaynes, Staffords, Horseys, Carews, Killegrews, and Cobhams--dashed out upon the water to revenge theSmithfield massacres. They found help where it could least have beenlooked for. Henry II. Of France hated heresy, but he hated Spain worse. Sooner than see England absorbed in the Spanish monarchy, he forgot hisbigotry in his politics. He furnished these young mutineers with shipsand money and letters of marque. The Huguenots were their naturalfriends. With Rochelle for an arsenal, they held the mouth of theChannel, and harassed the communications between Cadiz and Antwerp. Itwas a wild business: enterprise and buccaneering sanctified by religionand hatred of cruelty; but it was a school like no other for seamanship, and a school for the building of vessels which could out-sail all otherson the sea; a school, too, for the training up of hardy men, in whoseblood ran detestation of the Inquisition and the Inquisition's master. Every other trade was swallowed up or coloured by privateering; themerchantmen went armed, ready for any work that offered; the Icelandfleet went no more in search of cod; the Channel boatmen forsook netsand lines and took to livelier occupations; Mary was too busy burningheretics to look to the police of the seas; her father's fine shipsrotted in harbour; her father's coast-forts were deserted or dismantled;she lost Calais; she lost the hearts of her people in forcing them intoorthodoxy; she left the seas to the privateers; and no trade flourished, save what the Catholic Powers called piracy. When Elizabeth came to the throne, the whole merchant navy of Englandengaged in lawful commerce amounted to no more than 50, 000 tons. You maysee more now passing every day through the Gull Stream. In the serviceof the Crown there were but seven revenue cruisers in commission, thelargest 120 tons, with eight merchant brigs altered for fighting. Inharbour there were still a score of large ships, but they weredismantled and rotting; of artillery fit for sea work there was none. The men were not to be had, and, as Sir William Cecil said, to fit outships without men was to set armour on stakes on the seashore. Themariners of England were otherwise engaged, and in a way which did notplease Cecil. He was the ablest minister that Elizabeth had. He saw atonce that on the navy the prosperity and even the liberty of Englandmust eventually depend. If England were to remain Protestant, it was notby articles of religion or acts of uniformity that she could be savedwithout a fleet at the back of them. But he was old-fashioned. Hebelieved in law and order, and he has left a curious paper ofreflections on the situation. The ships' companies in Henry VIII. 's dayswere recruited from the fishing-smacks, but the Reformation itself haddestroyed the fishing trade. In old times, Cecil said, no flesh waseaten on fish days. The King himself could not have license. Now to eatbeef or mutton on fish days was the test of a true believer. The EnglishIceland fishery used to supply Normandy and Brittany as well as England. Now it had passed to the French. The Chester men used to fish the Irishseas. Now they had left them to the Scots. The fishermen had taken toprivateering because the fasts of the Church were neglected. He saw itwas so. He recorded his own opinion that piracy, as he called it, was_detestable_, and could not last. He was to find that it could last, that it was to form the special discipline of the generation whosebusiness would be to fight the Spaniards. But he struggled hard againstthe unwelcome conclusion. He tried to revive lawful trade by aNavigation Act. He tried to restore the fisheries by Act of Parliament. He introduced a Bill recommending godly abstinence as a means to virtue, making the eating of meat on Fridays and Saturdays a misdemeanour, andadding Wednesday as a half fish-day. The House of Commons laughed at himas bringing back Popish mummeries. To please the Protestants he inserteda clause, that the statute was politicly meant for the increase offishermen and mariners, not for any superstition in the choice of meats;but it was no use. The Act was called in mockery 'Cecil's Fast, ' and therecovery of the fisheries had to wait till the natural inclination ofhuman stomachs for fresh whiting and salt cod should revive of itself. Events had to take their course. Seamen were duly provided in otherways, and such as the time required. Privateering suited Elizabeth'sconvenience, and suited her disposition. She liked daring and adventure. She liked men who would do her work without being paid for it, men whomshe could disown when expedient; who would understand her, and would notresent it. She knew her turn was to come when Philip had leisure to dealwith her, if she could not secure herself meanwhile. Time was wanted torestore the navy. The privateers were a resource in the interval. Theymight be called pirates while there was formal peace. The name did notsignify. They were really the armed force of the country. After the warbroke out in the Netherlands, they had commissions from the Prince ofOrange. Such commissions would not save them if taken by Spain, but itenabled them to sell their prizes, and for the rest they trusted totheir speed and their guns. When Elizabeth was at war with France aboutHavre, she took the most noted of them into the service of the Crown. Ned Horsey became Sir Edward and Governor of the Isle of Wight;Strangways, a Red Rover in his way, who had been the terror of theSpaniards, was killed before Rouen; Tremayne fell at Havre, mourned overby Elizabeth; and Champernowne, one of the most gallant of the whole ofthem, was killed afterwards at Coligny's side at Moncontour. But others took their places: the wild hawks as thick as seagullsflashing over the waves, fair wind or foul, laughing at pursuit, brave, reckless, devoted, the crews the strangest medley: English from theDevonshire and Cornish creeks, Huguenots from Rochelle; Irish kerneswith long skenes, 'desperate, unruly persons with no kind of mercy. ' The Holy Office meanwhile went on in cold, savage resolution: the HolyOffice which had begun the business and was the cause of it. A note in Cecil's hand says that in the one year 1562 twenty-six Englishsubjects had been burnt at the stake in different parts of Spain. Tentimes as many were starving in Spanish dungeons, from whichoccasionally, by happy accident, a cry could be heard like this whichfollows. In 1561 an English merchant writes from the Canaries: 'I was taken by those of the Inquisition twenty months past, put into alittle dark house two paces long, loaded with irons, without sight ofsun or moon all that time. When I was arraigned I was charged that Ishould say our mass was as good as theirs; that I said I would rathergive money to the poor than buy Bulls of Rome with it. I was chargedwith being a subject to the Queen's grace, who, they said, was enemy tothe Faith, Antichrist, with other opprobrious names; and I stood to thedefence of the Queen's Majesty, proving the infamies most untrue. Then Iwas put into Little Ease again, protesting very innocent blood to bedemanded against the judge before Christ. ' The innocent blood of these poor victims had not to wait to be avengedat the Judgment Day. The account was presented shortly and promptly atthe cannon's mouth. LECTURE II JOHN HAWKINS AND THE AFRICAN SLAVE TRADE I begin this lecture with a petition addressed to Queen Elizabeth. Thomas Seely, a merchant of Bristol, hearing a Spaniard in a Spanishport utter foul and slanderous charges against the Queen's character, knocked him down. To knock a man down for telling lies about Elizabethmight be a breach of the peace, but it had not yet been declared heresy. The Holy Office, however, seized Seely, threw him into a dungeon, andkept him starving there for three years, at the end of which hecontrived to make his condition known in England. The Queen wroteherself to Philip to protest. Philip would not interfere. Seely remainedin prison and in irons, and the result was a petition from his wife, inwhich the temper which was rising can be read as in letters of fire. Dorothy Seely demands that 'the friends of her Majesty's subjects soimprisoned and tormented in Spain may make out ships at their propercharges, take such Inquisitors or other Papistical subjects of the Kingof Spain as they can by sea or land, and retain them in prison with suchtorments and diet as her Majesty's subjects be kept with in Spain, andon complaint made by the King to give such answer as is now made whenher Majesty sues for subjects imprisoned by the Inquisition. Or that aCommission be granted to the Archbishop of Canterbury and the otherbishops word for word for foreign Papists as the Inquisitors have inSpain for the Protestants. So that all may know that her Majesty cannotand will not longer endure the spoils and torments of her subjects, andthe Spaniards shall not think this noble realm dares not seek revenge ofsuch importable wrongs. ' Elizabeth issued no such Commission as Dorothy Seely asked for, but shedid leave her subjects to seek their revenge in their own way, and theysought it sometimes too rashly. In the summer of 1563 eight English merchantmen anchored in the roadsof Gibraltar. England and France were then at war. A French brig came inafter them, and brought up near. At sea, if they could take her, shewould have been a lawful prize. Spaniards under similar circumstanceshad not respected the neutrality of English harbours. The Englishmenwere perhaps in doubt what to do, when the officers of the Holy Officecame off to the French ship. The sight of the black familiars drove theEnglish wild. Three of them made a dash at the French ship, intending tosink her. The Inquisitors sprang into their boat, and rowed for theirlives. The castle guns opened, and the harbour police put out tointerfere. The French ship, however, would have been taken, whenunluckily Alvarez de Baçan, with a Spanish squadron, came round into theStraits. Resistance was impossible. The eight English ships werecaptured and carried off to Cadiz. The English flag was trailed under DeBaçan's stern. The crews, two hundred and forty men in all, werepromptly condemned to the galleys. In defence they could but say thatthe Frenchman was an enemy, and a moderate punishment would havesufficed for a violation of the harbour rules which the Spaniardsthemselves so little regarded. But the Inquisition was inexorable, andthe men were treated with such peculiar brutality that after nine monthsninety only of the two hundred and forty were alive. Ferocity was answered by ferocity. Listen to this! The Cobhams ofCowling Castle were Protestants by descent. Lord Cobham was famous inthe Lollard martyrology. Thomas Cobham, one of the family, had taken tothe sea like many of his friends. While cruising in the Channel hecaught sight of a Spaniard on the way from Antwerp to Cadiz with fortyprisoners on board, consigned, it might be supposed, to the Inquisition. They were, of course, Inquisition prisoners; for other offenders wouldhave been dealt with on the spot. Cobham chased her down into the Bay ofBiscay, took her, scuttled her, and rescued the captives. But that wasnot enough. The captain and crew he sewed up in their own mainsail andflung them overboard. They were washed ashore dead, wrapped in theirextraordinary winding-sheet. Cobham was called to account for thisexploit, but he does not seem to have been actually punished. In a veryshort time he was out and away again at the old work. There were plentywith him. After the business at Gibraltar, Philip's subjects were notsafe in English harbours. Jacques le Clerc, a noted privateer, calledPie de Palo from his wooden leg, chased a Spaniard into Falmouth, andwas allowed to take her under the guns of Pendennis. The Governor of thecastle said that he could not interfere, because Le Clerc had acommission from the Prince of Condé. It was proved that in the summer of1563 there were 400 English and Huguenot rovers in and about theChannel, and that they had taken 700 prizes between them. The Queen'sown ships followed suit. Captain Cotton in the _Phoenix_ captured anAntwerp merchantman in Flushing. The harbour-master protested. Cottonlaughed, and sailed away with his prize. The Regent Margaret wrote inindignation to Elizabeth. Such insolence, she said, was not to beendured. She would have Captain Cotton chastised as an example to allothers. Elizabeth measured the situation more correctly than the Regent;she preferred to show Philip that she was not afraid of him. Shepreferred to let her subjects discover for themselves that the terribleSpaniard before whom the world trembled was but a colossus stuffed withclouts. Until Philip consented to tie the hands of the Holy Office shedid not mean to prevent them from taking the law into their own hands. Now and then, if occasion required, Elizabeth herself would do a littleprivateering on her own account. In the next story that I have to tellshe appears as a principal, and her great minister, Cecil, as anaccomplice. The Duke of Alva had succeeded Margaret as Regent of theNetherlands, and was drowning heresy in its own blood. The Prince ofOrange was making a noble fight; but all went ill with him. His troopswere defeated, his brother Louis was killed. He was still struggling, helped by Elizabeth's money. But the odds were terrible, and the onlyhope lay in the discontent of Alva's soldiers, who had not been paidtheir wages, and would not fight without them. Philip's finances werenot flourishing, but he had borrowed half a million ducats from a houseat Genoa for Alva's use. The money was to be delivered in bullion atAntwerp. The Channel privateers heard that it was coming and were on thelook-out for it. The vessel in which it was sent took refuge inPlymouth, but found she had run into the enemy's nest. Nineteen ortwenty Huguenot and English cruisers lay round her with commissions fromCondé to take every Catholic ship they met with. Elizabeth's specialfriends thought and said freely that so rich a prize ought to fall to noone but her Majesty. Elizabeth thought the same, but for a morehonourable reason. It was of the highest consequence that the moneyshould not reach the Duke of Alva at that moment. Even Cecil said so, and sent the Prince of Orange word that it would be stopped in some way. But how could it decently be done? Bishop Jewel relieved the Queen'smind (if it was ever disturbed) on the moral side of the question. Thebishop held that it would be meritorious in a high degree to intercept atreasure which was to be used in the murder of Protestant Christians. But the how was the problem. To let the privateers take it openly inPlymouth harbour would, it was felt, be a scandal. Sir ArthurChampernowne, the Vice-admiral of the West, saw the difficulty andoffered his services. He had three vessels of his own in Condé'sprivateer fleet, under his son Henry. As vice-admiral he was first incommand at Plymouth. He placed a guard on board the treasure ship, telling the captain it would be a discredit to the Queen's Government ifharm befell her in English waters. He then wrote to Cecil. 'If, ' he said, 'it shall seem good to your honour that I with othersshall give the attempt for her Majesty's use which cannot be withoutblood, I will not only take it in hand, but also receive the blamethereof unto myself, to the end so great a commodity should redound toher Grace, hoping that, after bitter storms of her displeasure, showedat the first to colour the fact, I shall find the calm of her favour insuch sort as I am most willing to hazard myself to serve her Majesty. Great pity it were such a rich booty should escape her Grace. But surelyI am of that mind that anything taken from that wicked nation is bothnecessary and profitable to our commonwealth. ' Very shocking on Sir Arthur's part to write such a letter: so many goodpeople will think. I hope they will consider it equally shocking thatKing Philip should have burned English sailors at the stake because theywere loyal to the laws of their own country; that he was stirring warall over Europe to please the Pope, and thrusting the doctrines of theCouncil of Trent down the throats of mankind at the sword's point. Spainand England might be at peace; Romanism and Protestantism were at deadlywar, and war suspends the obligations of ordinary life. Crimes the mosthorrible were held to be virtues in defence of the Catholic faith. TheCatholics could not have the advantage of such indulgences without theinconveniences. The Protestant cause throughout Europe was one, andassailed as the Protestants were with such envenomed ferocity, theycould not afford to be nicely scrupulous in the means they used todefend themselves. Sir Arthur Champernowne was not called on to sacrifice himself in suchpeculiar fashion, and a better expedient was found to secure Alva'smoney. The bullion was landed and was brought to London by road on theplea that the seas were unsafe. It was carried to the Tower, and when itwas once inside the walls it was found to remain the property of theGenoese until it was delivered at Antwerp. The Genoese agent in Londonwas as willing to lend it to Elizabeth as to Philip, and indeedpreferred the security. Elizabeth calmly said that she had herselfoccasion for money, and would accept their offer. Half of it was sent tothe Prince of Orange; half was spent on the Queen's navy. Alva was of course violently angry. He arrested every English ship inthe Low Countries. He arrested every Englishman that he could catch, andsequestered all English property. Elizabeth retaliated in kind. TheSpanish and Flemish property taken in England proved to be worth doublewhat had been secured by Alva. Philip could not declare war. TheNetherlands insurrection was straining his resources, and with Elizabethfor an open enemy the whole weight of England would have been thrown onthe side of the Prince of Orange. Elizabeth herself should havedeclared war, people say, instead of condescending to such tricks. Perhaps so; but also perhaps not. These insults, steadily maintained andunresented, shook the faith of mankind, and especially of her ownsailors, in the invincibility of the Spanish colossus. I am now to turn to another side of the subject. The stories which Ihave told you show the temper of the time, and the atmosphere which menwere breathing, but it will be instructive to look more closely atindividual persons, and I will take first John Hawkins (afterwards SirJohn), a peculiarly characteristic figure. The Hawkinses of Plymouth were a solid middle-class Devonshire family, who for two generations had taken a leading part in the business of thetown. They still survive in the county--Achins we used to call thembefore school pronunciation came in, and so Philip wrote the name whenthe famous John began to trouble his dreams. I have already spoken ofold William Hawkins, John's father, whom Henry VIII. Was so fond of, and who brought over the Brazilian King. Old William had now retired andhad left his place and his work to his son. John Hawkins may have beenabout thirty at Elizabeth's accession. He had witnessed the wild timesof Edward VI. And Mary, but, though many of his friends had taken to theprivateering business, Hawkins appears to have kept clear of it, andcontinued steadily at trade. One of these friends, and his contemporary, and in fact his near relation, was Thomas Stukely, afterwards sonotorious--and a word may be said of Stukely's career as a contrast tothat of Hawkins. He was a younger son of a leading county family, wentto London to seek his fortune, and became a hanger-on of Sir ThomasSeymour. Doubtless he was connected with Seymour's pirating scheme atScilly, and took to pirating as an occupation like other Westerngentlemen. When Elizabeth became Queen, he introduced himself at Courtand amused her with his conceit. He meant to be a king, nothing lessthan a king. He would go to Florida, found an empire there, and write tothe Queen as his dearest sister. She gave him leave to try. He bought avessel of 400 tons, got 100 tall soldiers to join him besides the crew, and sailed from Plymouth in 1563. Once out of harbour, he announced thatthe sea was to be his Florida. He went back to the pirate business, robbed freely, haunted Irish creeks, and set up an intimacy with theUlster hero, Shan O'Neil. Shan and Stukely became bosom friends. Shanwrote to Elizabeth to recommend that she should make over Ireland toStukely and himself to manage, and promised, if she agreed, to make itsuch an Ireland as had never been seen, which they probably would. Elizabeth not consenting, Stukely turned Papist, transferred hisservices to the Pope and Philip, and was preparing a campaign in Irelandunder the Pope's direction, when he was tempted to join Sebastian ofPortugal in the African expedition, and there got himself killed. Stukely was a specimen of the foolish sort of the young Devonshire men;Hawkins was exactly his opposite. He stuck to business, avoidedpolitics, traded with Spanish ports without offending the Holy Office, and formed intimacies and connections with the Canary Islandsespecially, where it was said 'he grew much in love and favour with thepeople. ' At the Canaries he naturally heard much about the West Indies. He wasadventurous. His Canaries friends told him that negroes were greatmerchandise in the Spanish settlements in Española, and he himself wasintimately acquainted with the Guinea coast, and knew how easily such acargo could be obtained. We know to what the slave trade grew. We have all learnt to repent ofthe share which England had in it, and to abhor everyone whose handswere stained by contact with so accursed a business. All that may betaken for granted; but we must look at the matter as it would have beenrepresented at the Canaries to Hawkins himself. The Carib races whom the Spaniards found in Cuba and St. Domingo hadwithered before them as if struck by a blight. Many died under the lashof the Spanish overseers; many, perhaps the most, from the mysteriouscauses which have made the presence of civilisation so fatal to the RedIndian, the Australian, and the Maori. It is with men as it is withanimals. The races which consent to be domesticated prosper andmultiply. Those which cannot live without freedom pine like caged eaglesor disappear like the buffaloes of the prairies. Anyway, the natives perished out of the islands of the Caribbean Seawith a rapidity which startled the conquerors. The famous Bishop LasCasas pitied and tried to save the remnant that were left. The Spanishsettlers required labourers for the plantations. On the continent ofAfrica were another race, savage in their natural state, which woulddomesticate like sheep and oxen, and learnt and improved in the whiteman's company. The negro never rose of himself out of barbarism; as hisfathers were, so he remained from age to age; when left free, as inLiberia and in Hayti, he reverts to his original barbarism; while insubjection to the white man he showed then, and he has shown since, highcapacities of intellect and character. Such is, such was the fact. Itstruck Las Casas that if negroes could be introduced into the WestIndian islands, the Indians might be left alone; the negroes themselveswould have a chance to rise out of their wretchedness, could be madeinto Christians, and could be saved at worst from the horrid fate whichawaited many of them in their own country. The black races varied like other animals: some were gentle and timid, some were ferocious as wolves. The strong tyrannised over the weak, madeslaves of their prisoners, occasionally ate them, and those they did noteat they sacrificed at what they called their _customs_--offered them upand cut their throats at the altars of their idols. These customs werethe most sacred traditions of the negro race. They were suspended whilethe slave trade gave the prisoners a value. They revived when the slavetrade was abolished. When Lord Wolseley a few years back enteredAshantee, the altars were coated thick with the blood of hundreds ofmiserable beings who had been freshly slaughtered there. Still latersimilar horrid scenes were reported from Dahomey. Sir Richard Burton, who was an old acquaintance of mine, spent two months with the King ofDahomey, and dilated to me on the benevolence and enlightenment of thatexcellent monarch. I asked why, if the King was so benevolent, he didnot alter the customs. Burton looked at me with consternation. 'Alterthe customs!' he said. 'Would you have the Archbishop of Canterburyalter the Liturgy?' Las Casas and those who thought as he did are not tobe charged with infamous inhumanity if they proposed to buy these poorcreatures from their captors, save them from Mumbo Jumbo, and carry themto countries where they would be valuable property, and be at least aswell cared for as the mules and horses. The experiment was tried and seemed to succeed. The negroes who wererescued from the customs and were carried to the Spanish islands proveddocile and useful. Portuguese and Spanish factories were established onthe coast of Guinea. The black chiefs were glad to make money out oftheir wretched victims, and readily sold them. The transport over theAtlantic became a regular branch of business. Strict laws were made forthe good treatment of the slaves on the plantations. The trade wascarried on under license from the Government, and an import duty ofthirty ducats per head was charged on every negro that was landed. Icall it an experiment. The full consequences could not be foreseen; andI cannot see that as an experiment it merits the censures which in itslater developments it eventually came to deserve. Las Casas, whoapproved of it, was one of the most excellent of men. Our own BishopButler could give no decided opinion against negro slavery as it existedin his time. It is absurd to say that ordinary merchants and shipcaptains ought to have seen the infamy of a practice which Las Casasadvised and Butler could not condemn. The Spanish and PortugueseGovernments claimed, as I said, the control of the traffic. The Spanishsettlers in the West Indies objected to a restriction which raised theprice and shortened the supply. They considered that having establishedthemselves in a new country they had a right to a voice in theconditions of their occupancy. It was thus that the Spaniards in theCanaries represented the matter to John Hawkins. They told him that ifhe liked to make the venture with a contraband cargo from Guinea, theircountrymen would give him an enthusiastic welcome. It is evident fromthe story that neither he nor they expected that serious offence wouldbe taken at Madrid. Hawkins at this time was entirely friendly with theSpaniards. It was enough if he could be assured that the colonists wouldbe glad to deal with him. I am not crediting him with the benevolent purposes of Las Casas. I donot suppose Hawkins thought much of saving black men's souls. He sawonly an opportunity of extending his business among a people with whomhe was already largely connected. The traffic was established. It hadthe sanction of the Church, and no objection had been raised to itanywhere on the score of morality. The only question which could havepresented itself to Hawkins was of the right of the Spanish Governmentto prevent foreigners from getting a share of a lucrative trade againstthe wishes of its subjects. And his friends at the Canaries certainlydid not lead him to expect any real opposition. One regrets that afamous Englishman should have been connected with the slave trade; butwe have no right to heap violent censures upon him because he was nomore enlightened than the wisest of his contemporaries. Thus, encouraged from Santa Cruz, Hawkins on his return to Englandformed an African company out of the leading citizens of London. Threevessels were fitted out, Hawkins being commander and part owner. Thesize of them is remarkable: the _Solomon_, as the largest was called, 120 tons; the _Swallow_, 100 tons; the _Jonas_ not above 40 tons. Thisrepresents them as inconceivably small. They carried between them ahundred men, and ample room had to be provided besides for the blacks. There may have been a difference in the measurement of tonnage. Weourselves have five standards: builder's measurement, yacht measurement, displacement, sail area, and register measurement. Registered tonnage isfar under the others: a yacht registered 120 tons would be called 200 ina shipping list. However that be, the brigantines and sloops used by theElizabethans on all adventurous expeditions were mere boats comparedwith what we should use now on such occasions. The reason was obvious. Success depended on speed and sailing power. The art of building bigsquare-rigged ships which would work to windward had not been yetdiscovered, even by Mr. Fletcher of Rye. The fore-and-aft rig alonewould enable a vessel to tack, as it is called, and this could only beused with craft of moderate tonnage. The expedition sailed in October 1562. They called at the Canaries, where they were warmly entertained. They went on to Sierra Leone, wherethey collected 300 negroes. They avoided the Government factories, andpicked them up as they could, some by force, some by negotiation withlocal chiefs, who were as ready to sell their subjects as Sancho Panzaintended to be when he got his island. They crossed without misadventureto St. Domingo, where Hawkins represented that he was on a voyage ofdiscovery; that he had been driven out of his course and wanted food andmoney. He said he had certain slaves with him, which he asked permissionto sell. What he had heard at the Canaries turned out to be exactlytrue. So far as the Governor of St. Domingo knew, Spain and England wereat peace. Privateers had not troubled the peace of the Caribbean Sea, or dangerous heretics menaced the Catholic faith there. Inquisitorsmight have been suspicious, but the Inquisition had not yet beenestablished beyond the Atlantic. The Queen of England was hissovereign's sister-in-law, and the Governor saw no reason why he shouldconstrue his general instructions too literally. The planters were eagerto buy, and he did not wish to be unpopular. He allowed Hawkins to selltwo out of his three hundred negroes, leaving the remaining hundred as adeposit should question be raised about the duty. Evidently the onlydoubt in the Governor's mind was whether the Madrid authorities wouldcharge foreign importers on a higher scale. The question was new. Nostranger had as yet attempted to trade there. Everyone was satisfied, except the negroes, who were not asked theiropinion. The profits were enormous. A ship in the harbour was about tosail for Cadiz. Hawkins invested most of what he had made in a cargo ofhides, for which, as he understood, there was a demand in Spain, and hesent them over in her in charge of one of his partners. The Governorgave him a testimonial for good conduct during his stay in the port, andwith this and with his three vessels he returned leisurely to England, having, as he imagined, been splendidly successful. He was to be unpleasantly undeceived. A few days after he had arrived atPlymouth, he met the man whom he had sent to Cadiz with the hidesforlorn and empty-handed. The Inquisition, he said, had seized the cargoand confiscated it. An order had been sent to St. Domingo to forfeit thereserved slaves. He himself had escaped for his life, as the familiarshad been after him. Nothing shows more clearly how little thought there had been in Hawkinsthat his voyage would have given offence in Spain than the astonishmentwith which he heard the news. He protested. He wrote to Philip. Findingentreaties useless, he swore vengeance; but threats were equallyineffectual. Not a hide, not a farthing could he recover. The SpanishGovernment, terrified at the intrusion of English adventurers into theirwestern paradise to endanger the gold fleets, or worse to endanger thepurity of the faith, issued orders more peremptory than ever to closethe ports there against all foreigners. Philip personally warned SirThomas Chaloner, the English ambassador, that if such visits wererepeated, mischief would come of it. And Cecil, who disliked all suchsemi-piratical enterprises, and Chaloner, who was half a Spaniard and anold companion in arms of Charles V. , entreated their mistress to forbidthem. Elizabeth, however, had her own views in such matters. She liked money. She liked encouraging the adventurous disposition of her subjects, whowere fighting the State's battles at their own risk and cost. She saw inPhilip's anger a confession that the West Indies was his vulnerablepoint; and that if she wished to frighten him into letting her alone, and to keep the Inquisition from burning her sailors, there was theplace where Philip would be more sensitive. Probably, too, she thoughtthat Hawkins had done nothing for which he could be justly blamed. Hehad traded at St. Domingo with the Governor's consent, and confiscationwas sharp practice. This was clearly Hawkins's own view of the matter. He had injured noone. He had offended no pious ears by parading his Protestantism. He wasnot Philip's subject, and was not to be expected to know theinstructions given by the Spanish Government in the remote corners oftheir dominions. If anyone was to be punished, it was not he but theGovernor. He held that he had been robbed, and had a right to indemnifyhimself at the King's expense. He would go out again. He was certain ofa cordial reception from the planters. Between him and them there wasthe friendliest understanding. His quarrel was with Philip, and Philiponly. He meant to sell a fresh cargo of negroes, and the MadridGovernment should go without their 30 per cent. Duty. Elizabeth approved. Hawkins had opened the road to the West Indies. Hehad shown how easy slave smuggling was, and how profitable it was: howit was also possible for the English to establish friendly relationswith the Spanish settlers in the West Indies, whether Philip liked it ornot. Another company was formed for a second trial. Elizabeth tookshares, Lord Pembroke took shares, and other members of the Council. TheQueen lent the _Jesus_, a large ship of her own, of 700 tons. Formalinstructions were given that no wrong was to be done to the King ofSpain, but what wrong might mean was left to the discretion of thecommander. Where the planters were all eager to purchase, means oftraffic would be discovered without collision with the authorities. Thistime the expedition was to be on a larger scale, and a hundred soldierswere put on board to provide for contingencies. Thus furnished, Hawkinsstarted on his second voyage in October 1564. The autumn was chosen, toavoid the extreme tropical heats. He touched as before to see hisfriends at the Canaries. He went on to the Rio Grande, met withadventures bad and good, found a chief at war with a neighbouring tribe, helped to capture a town and take prisoners, made purchases at aPortuguese factory. In this way he now secured 400 human cattle, perhapsfor a better fate than they would have met with at home, and with thesehe sailed off in the old direction. Near the equator he fell in withcalms; he was short of water, and feared to lose some of them; but, asthe record of the voyage puts it, 'Almighty God would not suffer Hiselect to perish, ' and sent a breeze which carried him safe to Dominica. In that wettest of islands he found water in plenty, and had then toconsider what next he would do. St. Domingo, he thought, would be nolonger safe for him; so he struck across to the Spanish Main to a placecalled Burboroata, where he might hope that nothing would be known abouthim. In this he was mistaken. Philip's orders had arrived: no Englishmanof any creed or kind was to be allowed to trade in his West Indiadominions. The settlers, however, intended to trade. They required onlya display of force that they might pretend that they were yielding tocompulsion. Hawkins told his old story. He said that he was out on theservice of the Queen of England. He had been driven off his course bybad weather. He was short of supplies and had many men on board, whomight do the town some mischief if they were not allowed to landpeaceably and buy and sell what they wanted. The Governor affecting tohesitate, he threw 120 men on shore, and brought his guns to bear on thecastle. The Governor gave way under protest. Hawkins was to be permittedto sell half his negroes. He said that as he had been treated soinhospitably he would not pay the 30 per cent. The King of Spain shouldhave 7 1/2, and no more. The settlers had no objection. The price wouldbe the less, and with this deduction his business was easily finishedoff. He bought no more hides, and was paid in solid silver. From Burboroata he went on to Rio de la Hacha, where the same scene wasrepeated. The whole 400 were disposed of, this time with ease andcomplete success. He had been rapid; and had the season still beforehim. Having finished his business, he surveyed a large part of theCaribbean Sea, taking soundings, noting the currents, and making chartsof the coasts and islands. This done, he turned homewards, following theeast shore of North America as far as Newfoundland. There he gave hiscrew a change of diet, with fresh cod from the Banks, and after elevenmonths' absence he sailed into Padstow, having lost but twenty men inthe whole adventure, and bringing back 60 per cent. To the Queen and theother shareholders. Nothing succeeds like success. Hawkins's praises were in everyone'smouth, and in London he was the hero of the hour. Elizabeth received himat the palace. The Spanish ambassador, De Silva, met him there atdinner. He talked freely of where he had been and of what he had done, only keeping back the gentle violence which he had used. He regardedthis as a mere farce, since there had been no one hurt on either side. He boasted of having given the greatest satisfaction to the Spaniardswho had dealt with him. De Silva could but bow, report to his master, and ask instructions how he was to proceed. Philip was frightfully disturbed. He saw in prospect his westernsubjects allying themselves with the English--heresy creeping in amongthem; his gold fleets in danger, all the possibilities with whichElizabeth had wished to alarm him. He read and re-read De Silva'sletters, and opposite the name of Achines he wrote startledinterjections on the margin: 'Ojo! Ojo!' The political horizon was just then favourable to Elizabeth. The Queenof Scots was a prisoner in Loch Leven; the Netherlands were in revolt;the Huguenots were looking up in France; and when Hawkins proposed athird expedition, she thought that she could safely allow it. She gavehim the use of the _Jesus_ again, with another smaller ship of hers, the_Minion_. He had two of his own still fit for work; and a fifth, the_Judith_, was brought in by his young cousin, Francis Drake, who was nowto make his first appearance on the stage. I shall tell you by-and-bywho and what Drake was. Enough to say now that he was a relation ofHawkins, the owner of a small smart sloop or brigantine, and ambitiousof a share in a stirring business. The Plymouth seamen were falling into dangerous contempt of Philip. While the expedition was fitting out, a ship of the King's came intoCatwater with more prisoners from Flanders. She was flying the Castilianflag, contrary to rule, it was said, in English harbours. The treatmentof the English ensign at Gibraltar had not been forgiven, and Hawkinsordered the Spanish captain to strike his colours. The captain refused, and Hawkins instantly fired into him. In the confusion the prisonersescaped on board the _Jesus_ and were let go. The captain sent acomplaint to London, and Cecil--who disapproved of Hawkins and all hisproceedings--sent down an officer to inquire into what had happened. Hawkins, confident in Elizabeth's protection, quietly answered that theSpaniard had broken the laws of the port, and that it was necessary toassert the Queen's authority. 'Your mariners, ' said De Silva to her, 'rob our subjects on the sea, trade where they are forbidden to go, and fire upon our ships in yourharbours. Your preachers insult my master from their pulpits, and whenwe remonstrate we are answered with menaces. We have borne so far withtheir injuries, attributing them rather to temper and bad manners thanto deliberate purpose. But, seeing that no redress can be had, and thatthe same treatment of us continues, I must consult my Sovereign'spleasure. For the last time, I require your Majesty to punish thisoutrage at Plymouth and preserve the peace between the two realms. ' No remonstrance could seem more just till the other side was heard. Theother side was that the Pope and the Catholic Powers were undertaking toforce the Protestants of France and Flanders back under the Papacy withfire and sword. It was no secret that England's turn was to follow assoon as Philip's hands were free. Meanwhile he had been intriguing withthe Queen of Scots; he had been encouraging Ireland in rebellion; he hadbeen persecuting English merchants and seamen, starving them to death inthe Inquisition dungeons, or burning them at the stake. The Smithfieldinfamies were fresh in Protestant memories, and who could tell how soonthe horrid work would begin again at home, if the Catholic Powers couldhave their way? If the King of Spain and his Holiness at Rome would have allowed othernations to think and make laws for themselves, pirates and privateerswould have disappeared off the ocean. The West Indies would have beenleft undisturbed, and Spanish, English, French, and Flemings would havelived peacefully side by side as they do now. But spiritual tyranny hadnot yet learned its lesson, and the 'Beggars of the Sea' were to bePhilip's schoolmasters in irregular but effective fashion. Elizabeth listened politely to what De Silva said, promised to examineinto his complaints, and allowed Hawkins to sail. What befell him you will hear in the next lecture. LECTURE III SIR JOHN HAWKINS AND PHILIP THE SECOND My last lecture left Hawkins preparing to start on his third and, as itproved, most eventful voyage. I mentioned that he was joined by a youngrelation, of whom I must say a few preliminary words. Francis Drake wasa Devonshire man, like Hawkins himself and Raleigh and Davis andGilbert, and many other famous men of those days. He was born atTavistock somewhere about 1540. He told Camden that he was of meanextraction. He meant merely that he was proud of his parents and made noidle pretensions to noble birth. His father was a tenant of the Earl ofBedford, and must have stood well with him, for Francis Russell, theheir of the earldom, was the boy's godfather. From him Drake took hisChristian name. The Drakes were early converts to Protestantism. Trouble rising at Tavistock on the Six Articles Bill, they removed toKent, where the father, probably through Lord Bedford's influence, wasappointed a lay chaplain in Henry VIII. 's fleet at Chatham. In the nextreign, when the Protestants were uppermost, he was ordained and becamevicar of Upnor on the Medway. Young Francis took early to the water, andmade acquaintance with a ship-master trading to the Channel ports, whotook him on board his ship and bred him as a sailor. The boydistinguished himself, and his patron when he died left Drake his vesselin his will. For several years Drake stuck steadily to his coastingwork, made money, and made a solid reputation. His ambition grew withhis success. The seagoing English were all full of Hawkins and his WestIndian exploits. The Hawkinses and the Drakes were near relations. Hearing that there was to be another expedition, and having obtained hiscousin's consent, Francis Drake sold his brig, bought the _Judith_, ahandier and faster vessel, and with a few stout sailors from the riverwent down to Plymouth and joined. De Silva had sent word to Philip that Hawkins was again going out, andpreparations had been made to receive him. Suspecting nothing, Hawkinswith his four consorts sailed, as before, in October 1567. The start wasominous. He was caught and badly knocked about by an equinoctial in theBay of Biscay. He lost his boats. The _Jesus_ strained her timbers andleaked, and he so little liked the look of things that he even thoughtof turning back and giving up the expedition for the season. However, the weather mended. They put themselves to rights at the Canaries, picked up their spirits, and proceeded. The slave-catching was managedsuccessfully, though with some increased difficulty. The cargo withequal success was disposed of at the Spanish settlements. At one placethe planters came off in their boats at night to buy. At Rio de laHacha, where the most imperative orders had been sent to forbid hisadmittance, Hawkins landed a force as before and took possession of thetown, of course with the connivance of the settlers. At Carthagena hewas similarly ordered off, and as Carthagena was strongly fortified hedid not venture to meddle with it. But elsewhere he found ample marketsfor his wares. He sold all his blacks. By this and by other dealings hehad collected what is described as a vast treasure of gold, silver, andjewels. The hurricane season was approaching, and he made the best ofhis way homewards with his spoils, in the fear of being overtaken by it. Unluckily for him, he had lingered too long. He had passed the westpoint of Cuba and was working up the back of the island when a hurricanecame down on him. The gale lasted four days. The ships' bottoms werefoul and they could make no way. Spars were lost and rigging carriedaway. The _Jesus_, which had not been seaworthy all along, leaked worsethan ever and lost her rudder. Hawkins looked for some port in Florida, but found the coast shallow and dangerous, and was at last obliged torun for San Juan de Ulloa, at the bottom of the Gulf of Mexico. San Juan de Ulloa is a few miles only from Vera Cruz. It was at thattime the chief port of Mexico, through which all the traffic passedbetween the colony and the mother-country, and was thus a place of someconsequence. It stands on a small bay facing towards the north. Acrossthe mouth of this bay lies a narrow ridge of sand and shingle, half amile long, which acts as a natural breakwater and forms the harbour. This ridge, or island as it was called, was uninhabited, but it had beenfaced on the inner front by a wall. The water was deep alongside, andvessels could thus lie in perfect security, secured by their cables torings let into the masonry. The prevailing wind was from the north, bringing in a heavy surf on theback of the island. There was an opening at both ends, but only oneavailable for vessels of large draught. In this the channel was narrow, and a battery at the end of the breakwater would completely command it. The town stood on the opposite side of the bay. Into a Spanish port thus constructed Hawkins entered with his batteredsquadron on September 16, 1568. He could not have felt entirely easy. But he probably thought that he had no ill-will to fear from theinhabitants generally, and that the Spanish authorities would not bestrong enough to meddle with him. His ill star had brought him there ata time when Alvarez de Baçan, the same officer who had destroyed theEnglish ships at Gibraltar, was daily expected from Spain--sent byPhilip, as it proved, specially to look for him. Hawkins, when heappeared outside, had been mistaken for the Spanish admiral, and it wasunder this impression that he had been allowed to enter. The error wasquickly discovered on both sides. Though still ignorant that he was himself De Baçan's particular object, yet De Baçan was the last officer whom in his crippled condition hewould have cared to encounter. Several Spanish merchantmen were in theport richly loaded: with these of course he did not meddle, though, ifreinforced, they might perhaps meddle with him. As his best resource hedespatched a courier on the instant to Mexico to inform the Viceroy ofhis arrival, to say that he had an English squadron with him; that hehad been driven in by stress of weather and need of repairs; that theQueen was an ally of the King of Spain; and that, as he understood aSpanish fleet was likely soon to arrive, he begged the Viceroy to makearrangements to prevent disputes. As yet, as I said in the last lecture, there was no Inquisition inMexico. It was established there three years later, for the specialbenefit of the English. But so far there was no ill-will towards theEnglish--rather the contrary. Hawkins had hurt no one, and the negrotrading had been eminently popular. The Viceroy might perhaps haveconnived at Hawkins's escape, but again by ill-fortune he was himselfunder orders of recall, and his successor was coming out in thisparticular fleet with De Baçan. Had he been well disposed and free to act it would still have been toolate, for the very next morning, September 17, De Baçan was off theharbour mouth with thirteen heavily-armed galleons and frigates. Thesmallest of them carried probably 200 men, and the odds were nowtremendous. Hawkins's vessels lay ranged along the inner bank or wall ofthe island. He instantly occupied the island itself and mounted guns atthe point covering the way in. He then sent a boat off to De Baçan tosay that he was an Englishman, that he was in possession of the port, and must forbid the entrance of the Spanish fleet till he was assuredthat there was to be no violence. It was a strong measure to shut aSpanish admiral out of a Spanish port in a time of profound peace. Still, the way in was difficult, and could not be easily forced ifresolutely defended. The northerly wind was rising; if it blew into agale the Spaniards would be on a lee shore. Under desperatecircumstances, desperate things will be done. Hawkins in his subsequentreport thus explains his dilemma:-- 'I was in two difficulties. Either I must keep them out of the port, which with God's grace I could easily have done, in which case with anortherly wind rising they would have been wrecked, and I should havebeen answerable; or I must risk their playing false, which on the wholeI preferred to do. ' The northerly gale it appears did not rise, or the English commandermight have preferred the first alternative. Three days passed innegotiation. De Baçan and Don Enriquez, the new Viceroy, were naturallyanxious to get into shelter out of a dangerous position, and wereequally desirous not to promise any more than was absolutely necessary. The final agreement was that De Baçan and the fleet should enter withoutopposition. Hawkins might stay till he had repaired his damages, and buyand sell what he wanted; and further, as long as they remained theEnglish were to keep possession of the island. This article, Hawkinssays, was long resisted, but was consented to at last. It was absolutelynecessary, for with the island in their hands, the Spaniards had only tocut the English cables, and they would have driven ashore across theharbour. The treaty so drawn was formally signed. Hostages were given on bothsides, and De Baçan came in. The two fleets were moored as far apartfrom each other as the size of the port would allow. Courtesies wereexchanged, and for two days all went well. It is likely that the Viceroyand the admiral did not at first know that it was the very man whom theyhad been sent out to sink or capture who was lying so close to them. When they did know it they may have looked on him as a pirate, withwhom, as with heretics, there was no need to keep faith. Anyway, the ratwas in the trap, and De Baçan did not mean to let him out. The _Jesus_lay furthest in; the _Minion_ lay beyond her towards the entrance, moored apparently to a ring on the quay, but free to move; and the_Judith_, further out again, moored in the same way. Nothing is said ofthe two small vessels remaining. De Baçan made his preparations silently, covered by the town. He had menin abundance ready to act where he should direct. On the third day, the20th of September, at noon, the _Minion's_ crew had gone to dinner, whenthey saw a large hulk of 900 tons slowly towing up alongside of them. Not liking such a neighbour, they had their cable ready to slip andbegan to set their canvas. On a sudden shots and cries were heard fromthe town. Parties of English who were on land were set upon; many werekilled; the rest were seen flinging themselves into the water andswimming off to the ships. At the same instant the guns of the galleonsand of the shore batteries opened fire on the _Jesus_ and her consorts, and in the smoke and confusion 300 Spaniards swarmed out of the hulk andsprang on the _Minion's_ decks. The _Minion's_ men instantly cut themdown or drove them overboard, hoisted sail, and forced their way out ofthe harbour, followed by the _Judith_. The _Jesus_ was left alone, unable to stir. She defended herself desperately. In the many actionswhich were fought afterwards between the English and the Spaniards, there was never any more gallant or more severe. De Baçan's own ship wassunk and the vice-admiral's was set on fire. The Spanish, having anenormous advantage in numbers, were able to land a force on the island, seize the English battery there, cut down the gunners, and turn the gunsclose at hand on the devoted _Jesus_. Still she fought on, defeatingevery attempt to board, till at length De Baçan sent down fire-ships onher, and then the end came. All that Hawkins had made by his voyage, money, bullion, the ship herself, had to be left to their fate. Hawkinshimself with the survivors of the crew took to their boats, dashedthrough the enemy, who vainly tried to take them, and struggled outafter the _Minion_ and the _Judith_. It speaks ill for De Baçan thatwith so large a force at his command, and in such a position, a singleEnglishman escaped to tell the story. Even when outside Hawkins's situation was still critical and might wellbe called desperate. The _Judith_ was but fifty tons; the _Minion_ notabove a hundred. They were now crowded up with men. They had littlewater on board, and there had been no time to refill their store-chests, or fit themselves for sea. Happily the weather was moderate. If the windhad risen, nothing could have saved them. They anchored two miles off toput themselves in some sort of order. The Spanish fleet did not ventureto molest further so desperate a foe. On Saturday the 25th they setsail, scarcely knowing whither to turn. To attempt an ocean voyage asthey were would be certain destruction, yet they could not trust longerto De Baçan's cowardice or forbearance. There was supposed to be ashelter of some kind somewhere on the east side of the Gulf of Mexico, where it was hoped they might obtain provisions. They reached the placeon October 8, but found nothing. English sailors have never been wantingin resolution. They knew that if they all remained on board every one ofthem must starve. A hundred volunteered to land and take their chance. The rest on short rations might hope to make their way home. Thesacrifice was accepted. The hundred men were put on shore. They wanderedfor a few days in the woods, feeding on roots and berries, and shot atby the Indians. At length they reached a Spanish station, where theywere taken and sent as prisoners to Mexico. There was, as I said, noHoly Office as yet in Mexico. The new Viceroy, though he had been in thefight at San Juan de Ulloa, was not implacable. They were treated atfirst with humanity; they were fed, clothed, taken care of, and thendistributed among the plantations. Some were employed as overseers, someas mechanics. Others, who understood any kind of business, were allowedto settle in towns, make money, and even marry and establish themselves. Perhaps Philip heard of it, and was afraid that so many heretics mightintroduce the plague. The quiet time lasted three years; at the end ofthose years the Inquisitors arrived, and then, as if these poor men hadbeen the special object of that delightful institution, they were huntedup, thrown into dungeons, examined on their faith, tortured, some burntin an _auto da fé_, some lashed through the streets of Mexico naked onhorseback and returned to their prisons. Those who did not die underthis pious treatment were passed over to the Holy Office at Seville andwere condemned to the galleys. Here I leave them for the moment. We shall presently hear of them againin a very singular connection. The _Minion_ and _Judith_ meanwhilepursued their melancholy way. They parted company. The _Judith_, beingthe better sailer, arrived first, and reached Plymouth in December, tornand tattered. Drake rode off post immediately to carry the bad news toLondon. The _Minion's_ fate was worse. She made her course through theBahama Channel, her crew dying as if struck with a pestilence, till atlast there were hardly men enough left to handle the sails. They felltoo far south for England, and at length had to put into Vigo, wheretheir probable fate would be a Spanish prison. Happily they found otherEnglish vessels in the roads there. Fresh hands were put on board, andfresh provisions. With these supplies Hawkins reached Mount's Bay amonth later than the _Judith_, in January 1569. Drake had told the story, and all England was ringing with it. Englishmen always think their own countrymen are in the right. TheSpaniards, already in evil odour with the seagoing population, wereaccused of abominable treachery. The splendid fight which Hawkins hadmade raised him into a national idol, and though he had sufferedfinancially, his loss was made up in reputation and authority. Everyprivateer in the West was eager to serve under the leadership of thehero of San Juan de Ulloa. He speedily found himself in command of alarge irregular squadron, and even Cecil recognised his consequence. Hischief and constant anxiety was for the comrades whom he had left behind, and he talked of a new expedition to recover them, or revenge them ifthey had been killed; but all things had to wait. They probably foundmeans of communicating with him, and as long as there was noInquisition in Mexico, he may have learnt that there was no immediateoccasion for action. Elizabeth put a brave face on her disappointment. She knew that she wassurrounded with treason, but she knew also that the boldest course wasthe safest. She had taken Alva's money, and was less than ever inclinedto restore it. She had the best of the bargain in the arrest of theSpanish and English ships and cargoes. Alva would not encourage Philipto declare war with England till the Netherlands were completelyreduced, and Philip, with his leaden foot (_pié de plomo_), alwayspreferred patience and intrigue. Time and he and the Pope were threepowers which in the end, he thought, would prove irresistible, andindeed it seemed, after Hawkins's return, as if Philip would turn out tobe right. The presence of the Queen of Scots in England had set in flamethe Catholic nobles. The wages of Alva's troops had been wrung somehowout of the wretched Provinces, and his supreme ability and inexorableresolution were steadily grinding down the revolt. Every port in Hollandand Zealand was in Alva's hands. Elizabeth's throne was undermined bythe Ridolfi conspiracy, the most dangerous which she had ever had toencounter. The only Protestant fighting power left on the sea whichcould be entirely depended on was in the privateer fleet, sailing, mostof them, under a commission from the Prince of Orange. This fleet was the strangest phenomenon in naval history. It was halfDutch, half English, with a flavour of Huguenot, and was commanded by aFlemish noble, Count de la Mark. Its head-quarters were in the Downs orDover Roads, where it could watch the narrow seas, and seize everySpanish ship that passed which was not too strong to be meddled with. The cargoes taken were openly sold in Dover market. If the Spanishambassador is to be believed in a complaint which he addressed to Cecil, Spanish gentlemen taken prisoners were set up to public auction therefor the ransom which they would fetch, and were disposed of for onehundred pounds each. If Alva sent cruisers from Antwerp to burn themout, they retreated under the guns of Dover Castle. Roving squadrons ofthem flew down to the Spanish coasts, pillaged churches, carried offchurch plate, and the captains drank success to piracy at their banquetsout of chalices. The Spanish merchants at last estimated the propertydestroyed at three million ducats, and they said that if their flagcould no longer protect them, they must decline to make furthercontracts for the supply of the Netherlands army. It was life or death to Elizabeth. The Ridolfi plot, an elaborate andfar-reaching conspiracy to give her crown to Mary Stuart and to makeaway with heresy, was all but complete. The Pope and Philip hadapproved; Alva was to invade; the Duke of Norfolk was to head aninsurrection in the Eastern Counties. Never had she been in greaterdanger. Elizabeth was herself to be murdered. The intention was known, but the particulars of the conspiracy had been kept so secret that shehad not evidence enough to take measures to protect herself. Theprivateers at Dover were a sort of protection; they would at least makeAlva's crossing more difficult; but the most pressing exigency was thediscovery of the details of the treason. Nothing was to be gained byconcession; the only salvation was in daring. At Antwerp there was a certain Doctor Story, maintained by Alva there tokeep a watch on English heretics. Story had been a persecutor underMary, and had defended heretic burning in Elizabeth's first Parliament. He had refused the oath of allegiance, had left the country, and hadtaken to treason. Cecil wanted evidence, and this man he knew could giveit. A pretended informer brought Story word that there was an Englishvessel in the Scheldt which he would find worth examining. Story wastempted on board. The hatches were closed over him. He was delivered twodays after at the Tower, when his secrets were squeezed out of him bythe rack and he was then hanged. Something was learnt, but less still than Cecil needed to take measuresto protect the Queen. And now once more, and in a new character, we areto meet John Hawkins. Three years had passed since the catastrophe atSan Juan de Ulloa. He had learnt to his sorrow that his poor companionshad fallen into the hands of the Holy Office at last; had been burnt, lashed, starved in dungeons or worked in chains in the Seville yards;and his heart, not a very tender one, bled at the thoughts of them. Thefinest feature in the seamen of those days was their devotion to oneanother. Hawkins determined that, one way or other, these old comradesof his should be rescued. Entreaties were useless; force was impossible. There might still be a chance with cunning. He would risk anything, eventhe loss of his soul, to save them. De Silva had left England. The Spanish ambassador was now Don Guerau orGerald de Espes, and to him had fallen the task of watching anddirecting the conspiracy. Philip was to give the signal, the Duke ofNorfolk and other Catholic peers were to rise and proclaim the Queen ofScots. Success would depend on the extent of the disaffection in Englanditself; and the ambassador's business was to welcome and encourage allsymptoms of discontent. Hawkins knew generally what was going on, and hesaw in it an opportunity of approaching Philip on his weak side. Havingbeen so much in the Canaries, he probably spoke Spanish fluently. Hecalled on Don Guerau, and with audacious coolness represented that heand many of his friends were dissatisfied with the Queen's service. Hesaid he had found her faithless and ungrateful, and he and they wouldgladly transfer their allegiance to the King of Spain, if the King ofSpain would receive them. For himself, he would undertake to bring overthe whole privateer fleet of the West, and in return he asked fornothing but the release of a few poor English seamen who were in prisonat Seville. Don Guerau was full of the belief that the whole nation was ready torebel. He eagerly swallowed the bait which Hawkins threw to him. Hewrote to Alva, he wrote to Philip's secretary, Cayas, expatiating on theimportance of securing such an addition to their party. It was true, headmitted, that Hawkins had been a pirate, but piracy was a common faultof the English, and no wonder when the Spaniards submitted to beingplundered so meekly; the man who was offering his services was bold, resolute, capable, and had great influence with the English sailors; hestrongly advised that such a recruit should be encouraged. Alva would not listen. Philip, who shuddered at the very name ofHawkins, was incredulous. Don Guerau had to tell Sir John that the Kingat present declined his offer, but advised him to go himself to Madrid, or to send some confidential friend with assurances and explanations. Another figure now enters on the scene, a George Fitzwilliam. I do notknow who he was, or why Hawkins chose him for his purpose. The Duke ofFeria was one of Philip's most trusted ministers. He had married anEnglish lady who had been a maid of honour to Queen Mary. It is possiblethat Fitzwilliam had some acquaintance with her or with her family. Atany rate, he went to the Spanish Court; he addressed himself to theFerias; he won their confidence, and by their means was admitted to aninterview with Philip. He represented Hawkins as a faithful Catholic whowas indignant at the progress of heresy in England, who was eager toassist in the overthrow of Elizabeth and the elevation of the Queen ofScots, and was able and willing to carry along with him the greatWestern privateer fleet, which had become so dreadful to the Spanishmind. Philip listened and was interested. It was only natural, hethought, that heretics should be robbers and pirates. If they could berecovered to the Church, their bad habits would leave them. The Englishnavy was the most serious obstacle to the intended invasion. Still, Hawkins! The Achines of his nightmares! It could not be. He askedFitzwilliam if his friend was acquainted with the Queen of Scots or theDuke of Norfolk. Fitzwilliam was obliged to say that he was not. Thecredentials of John Hawkins were his own right hand. He was making theKing a magnificent offer: nothing less than a squadron of the finestships in the world--not perhaps in the best condition, he added, withcool British impudence, owing to the Queen's parsimony, but easily to beput in order again if the King would pay the seamen's wages and advancesome money for repairs. The release of a few poor prisoners was a smallprice to ask for such a service. The King was still wary, watching the bait like an old pike, buthesitating to seize it; but the duke and duchess were willing to bethemselves securities for Fitzwilliam's faith, and Philip promised atlast that if Hawkins would send him a letter of recommendation from theQueen of Scots herself, he would then see what could be done. The Feriaswere dangerously enthusiastic. They talked freely to Fitzwilliam of theQueen of Scots and her prospects. They trusted him with letters andpresents to her which would secure his admittance to her confidence. Hawkins had sent him over for the single purpose of cheating Philip intoreleasing his comrades from the Inquisition; and he had been introducedto secrets of high political moment; like Saul, the son of Kish, he hadgone to seek his father's asses and he had found a kingdom. Fitzwilliamhurried home with his letters and his news. Things were now serious. Hawkins could act no further on his own responsibility. He consultedCecil. Cecil consulted the Queen, and it was agreed that the practice, as it was called, should be carried further. It might lead to thediscovery of the whole secret. Very treacherous, think some good people. Well, there are times whenone admires even treachery-- nec lex est justior ulla Quam necis artifices arte perire sua. King Philip was confessedly preparing to encourage an English subject intreason to his sovereign. Was it so wrong to hoist the engineer with hisown petard? Was it wrong of Hamlet to finger the packet of Rosencrantzand Guildenstern and rewrite his uncle's despatch? Let us have done withcant in these matters. Mary Stuart was at Sheffield Castle in charge ofLord Shrewsbury, and Fitzwilliam could not see her without an order fromthe Crown. Shrewsbury, though loyal to Elizabeth, was notoriously wellinclined to Mary, and therefore could not be taken into confidence. Inwriting to him Cecil merely said that friends of Fitzwilliam's were inprison in Spain; that if the Queen of Scots would intercede for them, Philip might be induced to let them go. He might therefore allowFitzwilliam to have a private audience with that Queen. Thus armed, Fitzwilliam went down to Sheffield. He was introduced. Hebegan with presenting Mary with the letters and remembrances from theFerias, which at once opened her heart. It was impossible for her tosuspect a friend of the duke and duchess. She was delighted at receivinga visitor from the Court of Spain. She was prudent enough to avoiddangerous confidences, but she said she was always pleased when shecould do a service to Englishmen, and with all her heart would intercedefor the prisoners. She wrote to Philip, she wrote to the duke andduchess, and gave the letters to Fitzwilliam to deliver. He took them toLondon, called on Don Gerald, and told him of his success. Don Geraldalso wrote to his master, wrote unguardedly, and also trustedFitzwilliam with the despatch. The various packets were taken first to Cecil, and were next shown tothe Queen. They were then returned to Fitzwilliam, who once more wentoff with them to Madrid. If the letters produced the expected effect, Cecil calmly observed that divers commodities would ensue. Englishsailors would be released from the Inquisition and the galleys. Theenemy's intentions would be discovered. If the King of Spain could beinduced to do as Fitzwilliam had suggested, and assist in the repairs ofthe ships at Plymouth, credit would be obtained for a sum of money whichcould be employed to his own detriment. If Alva attempted the projectedinvasion, Hawkins might take the ships as if to escort him, and then dosome notable exploit in mid-Channel. You will observe the downright directness of Cecil, Hawkins, and theother parties in the matter. There is no wrapping up their intentions infine phrases, no parade of justification. They went straight to theirpoint. It was very characteristic of Englishmen in those stern, dangerous times. They looked facts in the face, and did what factrequired. All really happened exactly as I have described it: the storyis told in letters and documents of the authenticity of which there isnot the smallest doubt. We will follow Fitzwilliam. He arrived at the Spanish Court at themoment when Ridolfi had brought from Rome the Pope's blessing on theconspiracy. The final touches were being added by the Spanish Council ofState. All was hope; all was the credulity of enthusiasm! Mary Stuart'sletter satisfied Philip. The prisoners were dismissed, each with tendollars in his pocket. An agreement was formally drawn and signed in theEscurial in which Philip gave Hawkins a pardon for his misdemeanours inthe West Indies, a patent for a Spanish peerage, and a letter of creditfor 40, 000_l. _ to put the privateers in a condition to do service, andthe money was actually paid by Philip's London agent. Admitted as he nowwas to full confidence, Fitzwilliam learnt all particulars of the greatplot. The story reads like a chapter from _Monte Cristo_ and yet it isliterally true. It ends with a letter which I will read to you, from Hawkins to Cecil:-- 'My very good Lord, --It may please your Honour to be advertised that Fitzwilliam is returned from Spain, where his message was acceptably received, both by the King himself, the Duke of Feria, and others of the Privy Council. His despatch and answer were with great expedition and great countenance and favour of the King. The Articles are sent to the Ambassador with orders also for the money to be paid to me by him, for the enterprise to proceed with all diligence. The pretence is that my powers should join with the Duke of Alva's powers, which he doth secretly provide in Flanders, as well as with powers which will come with the Duke of Medina Celi out of Spain, and to invade this realm and set up the Queen of Scots. They have practised with us for the burning of Her Majesty's ships. Therefore there should be some good care had of them, but not as it may appear that anything is discovered. The King has sent a ruby of good price to the Queen of Scots, with letters also which in my judgment were good to be delivered. The letters be of no importance, but his message by word is to comfort her, and say that he hath now none other care but to place her in her own. It were good also that Fitzwilliam may have access to the Queen of Scots to render thanks for the delivery of the prisoners who are now at liberty. It will be a very good colour for your Lordship to confer with him more largely. 'I have sent your Lordship the copy of my pardon from the King of Spain, in the order and manner I have it, with my great titles and honours from the King, from which God deliver me. Their practices be very mischievous, and they be never idle; but God, I hope, will confound them and turn their devices on their own necks. 'Your Lordship's most faithfully to my power, 'JOHN HAWKINS. ' A few more words will conclude this curious episode. With the clueobtained by Fitzwilliam, and confessions twisted out of Story and otherunwilling witnesses, the Ridolfi conspiracy was unravelled before itbroke into act. Norfolk lost his head. The inferior miscreants werehanged. The Queen of Scots had a narrow escape, and the Parliamentaccentuated the Protestant character of the Church of England byembodying the Thirty-nine Articles in a statute. Alva, who distrustedRidolfi from the first and disliked encouraging rebellion, refused tointerest himself further in Anglo-Catholic plots. Elizabeth and Cecilcould now breathe more freely, and read Philip a lesson on the dangerof plotting against the lives of sovereigns. So long as England and Spain were nominally at peace, the presence of Dela Mark and his privateers in the Downs was at least indecent. Acommittee of merchants at Bruges represented that their losses by itamounted (as I said) to three million ducats. Elizabeth, being now incomparative safety, affected to listen to remonstrances, and orders weresent down to De la Mark that he must prepare to leave. It is likely thatboth the Queen and he understood each other, and that De la Mark quitewell knew where he was to go, and what he was to do. Alva now held every fortress in the Low Countries, whether inland or onthe coast. The people were crushed. The duke's great statue stood in thesquare at Antwerp as a symbol of the annihilation of the ancientliberties of the Provinces. By sea alone the Prince of Orange stillcontinued the unequal struggle; but if he was to maintain himself as asea power anywhere, he required a harbour of his own in his own country. Dover and the Thames had served for a time as a base of operations, butit could not last, and without a footing in Holland itself eventualsuccess was impossible. All the Protestant world was interested in hisfate, and De la Mark, with his miscellaneous gathering of Dutch, English, and Huguenot rovers, were ready for any desperate exploit. The order was to leave Dover immediately, but it was not construedstrictly. He lingered in the Downs for six weeks. At length, one morningat the end of March 1572, a Spanish convoy known to be richly loadedappeared in the Straits. De la Mark lifted anchor, darted out on it, seized two of the largest hulks, rifled them, flung their crewsoverboard, and chased the rest up Channel. A day or two after hesuddenly showed himself off Brille, at the mouth of the Meuse. A boatwas sent on shore with a note to the governor, demanding the instantsurrender of the town to the admiral of the Prince of Orange. Theinhabitants rose in enthusiasm; the garrison was small, and the governorwas obliged to comply. De la Mark took possession. A few priests andmonks attempted resistance, but were put down without difficulty, andthe leaders killed. The churches were cleared of their idols, and themass replaced by the Calvinistic service. Cannon and stores, furnishedfrom London, were landed, and Brille was made impregnable before Alvahad realised what had happened to him. He is said to have torn his beardfor anger. Flushing followed suit. In a week or two all the strongestplaces on the coast had revolted, and the pirate fleet had laid thefoundation of the great Dutch Republic, which at England's side was tostrike out of Philip's hand the sceptre of the seas, and to save theProtestant religion. We may think as we please of these Beggars of the Ocean, these Norsecorsairs come to life again with the flavour of Genevan theology inthem; but for daring, for ingenuity, for obstinate determination to bespiritually free or to die for it, the like of the Protestant privateersof the sixteenth century has been rarely met with in this world. England rang with joy when the news came that Brille was taken. Churchbells pealed, and bonfires blazed. Money poured across in streams. Exiled families went back to their homes--which were to be their homesonce more--and the Zealanders and Hollanders, entrenched among theirditches, prepared for an amphibious conflict with the greatest powerthen upon the earth. LECTURE IV DRAKE'S VOYAGE ROUND THE WORLD I suppose some persons present have heard the name of Lope de Vega, theSpanish poet of Philip II. 's time. Very few of you probably know more ofhim than his name, and yet he ought to have some interest for us, as hewas one of the many enthusiastic young Spaniards who sailed in the GreatArmada. He had been disappointed in some love affair. He was an earnestCatholic. He wanted distraction, and it is needless to say that he founddistraction enough in the English Channel to put his love troubles outof his mind. His adventures brought before him with some vividness thecharacter of the nation with which his own country was then in thedeath-grapple, especially the character of the great English seaman towhom the Spaniards universally attributed their defeat. Lope studiedthe exploits of Francis Drake from his first appearance to his end, andhe celebrated those exploits, as England herself has never yet thoughtit worth her while to do, by making him the hero of an epic poem. Thereare heroes and heroes. Lope de Vega's epic is called 'The Dragontea. 'Drake himself is the dragon, the ancient serpent of the Apocalypse. WeEnglish have been contented to allow Drake a certain qualified praise. We admit that he was a bold, dexterous sailor, that he did his countrygood service at the Invasion. We allow that he was a famous navigator, and sailed round the world, which no one else had done before him. But--there is always a but--of course he was a robber and a corsair, andthe only excuse for him is that he was no worse than most of hiscontemporaries. To Lope de Vega he was a great deal worse. He was Satanhimself, the incarnation of the Genius of Evil, the arch-enemy of theChurch of God. It is worth while to look more particularly at the figure of a man whoappeared to the Spaniards in such terrible proportions. I, for my part, believe a time will come when we shall see better than we see now whatthe Reformation was, and what we owe to it, and these sea-captains ofElizabeth will then form the subject of a great English national epic asgrand as the 'Odyssey. ' In my own poor way meanwhile I shall try in these lectures to draw you asketch of Drake and his doings as they appear to myself. To-day I canbut give you a part of the rich and varied story, but if all goes well Ihope I may be able to continue it at a future time. I have not yet done with Sir John Hawkins. We shall hear of him again. He became the manager of Elizabeth's dockyards. He it was who turned outthe ships that fought Philip's fleet in the Channel in such conditionthat not a hull leaked, not a spar was sprung, not a rope parted at anunseasonable moment, and this at a minimum of cost. He served himself inthe squadron which he had equipped. He was one of the small group ofadmirals who met that Sunday afternoon in the cabin of the ark _Raleigh_and sent the fire-ships down to stir Medina Sidonia out of his anchorageat Calais. He was a child of the sea, and at sea he died, sinking atlast into his mother's arms. But of this hereafter. I must speak now ofhis still more illustrious kinsman, Francis Drake. I told you the other day generally who Drake was and where he came from;how he went to sea as a boy, found favour with his master, became earlyan owner of his own ship, sticking steadily to trade. You hear nothingof him in connection with the Channel pirates. It was not till he wasfive-and-twenty that he was tempted by Hawkins into the negro-catchingbusiness, and of this one experiment was enough. He never tried itagain. The portraits of him vary very much, as indeed it is natural that theyshould, for most of those which pass for Drake were not meant for Drakeat all. It is the fashion in this country, and a very bad fashion, whenwe find a remarkable portrait with no name authoritatively attached toit, to christen it at random after some eminent man, and there itremains to perplex or mislead. The best likeness of Drake that I know is an engraving in Sir WilliamStirling-Maxwell's collection of sixteenth-century notabilities, representing him, as a scroll says at the foot of the plate, at the ageof forty-three. The face is round, the forehead broad and full, with theshort brown hair curling crisply on either side. The eyebrows are highlyarched, the eyes firm, clear, and open. I cannot undertake for thecolour, but I should judge they would be dark grey, like an eagle's. Thenose is short and thick, the mouth and chin hid by a heavy moustache onthe upper lip, and a close-clipped beard well spread over chin andcheek. The expression is good-humoured, but absolutely inflexible, not aweak line to be seen. He was of middle height, powerfully built, perhapstoo powerfully for grace, unless the quilted doublet in which the artisthas dressed him exaggerates his breadth. I have seen another portrait of him, with pretensions to authenticity, in which he appears with a slighter figure, eyes dark, full, thoughtful, and stern, a sailor's cord about his neck with a whistle attached to it, and a ring into which a thumb is carelessly thrust, the weight of thearms resting on it, as if in a characteristic attitude. Evidently thisis a carefully drawn likeness of some remarkable seaman of the time. Ishould like to believe it to be Drake, but I can feel no certainty aboutit. We left him returned home in the Judith from San Juan de Ulloa, a ruinedman. He had never injured the Spaniards. He had gone out with his cousinmerely to trade, and he had met with a hearty reception from thesettlers wherever he had been. A Spanish admiral had treacherously setupon him and his kinsman, destroyed half their vessels, and robbed themof all that they had. They had left a hundred of their comrades behindthem, for whose fate they might fear the worst. Drake thenceforthconsidered Spanish property as fair game till he had made up his ownlosses. He waited quietly for four years till he had re-establishedhimself, and then prepared to try fortune again in a more daring form. The ill-luck at San Juan de Ulloa had risen from loose tongues. Therehad been too much talk about it. Too many parties had been concerned. The Spanish Government had notice and were prepared. Drake determined toact for himself, have no partners, and keep his own secret. He foundfriends to trust him with money without asking for explanations. ThePlymouth sailors were eager to take their chance with him. His force wasabsurdly small: a sloop or brigantine of a hundred tons, which he calledthe _Dragon_ (perhaps, like Lope de Vega, playing on his own name), andtwo small pinnaces. With these he left Plymouth in the fall of thesummer of 1572. He had ascertained that Philip's gold and silver fromthe Peruvian mines was landed at Panama, carried across the isthmus onmules' backs on the line of M. De Lesseps' canal, and re-shipped atNombre de Dios, at the mouth of the Chagre River. He told no one where he was going. He was no more communicative thannecessary after his return, and the results, rather than theparticulars, of his adventure are all that can be certainly known. Discretion told him to keep his counsel, and he kept it. The Drake family published an account of this voyage in the middle ofthe next century, but obviously mythical, in parts demonstrably false, and nowhere to be depended on. It can be made out, however, that he didgo to Nombre de Dios, that he found his way into the town, and sawstores of bullion there which he would have liked to carry off but couldnot. A romantic story of a fight in the town I disbelieve, first becausehis numbers were so small that to try force would have been absurd, andnext because if there had been really anything like a battle an alarmwould have been raised in the neighbourhood, and it is evident that noalarm was given. In the woods were parties of runaway slaves, who werecalled Cimarons. It was to these that Drake addressed himself, and theyvolunteered to guide him where he could surprise the treasure convoy onthe way from Panama. His movements were silent and rapid. Oneinteresting incident is mentioned which is authentic. The Cimarons tookhim through the forest to the watershed from which the streams flow toboth oceans. Nothing could be seen through the jungle of undergrowth;but Drake climbed a tall tree, saw from the top of it the Pacificglittering below him, and made a vow that one day he would himself saila ship in those waters. For the present he had immediate work on hand. His guides kept theirword. They led him to the track from Panama, and he had not long to waitbefore the tinkling was heard of the mule bells as they were coming upthe pass. There was no suspicion of danger, not the faintest. The muletrain had but its ordinary guard, who fled at the first surprise. Theimmense booty fell all into Drake's hands--gold, jewels, silverbars--and got with much ease, as Prince Hal said at Gadshill. The silverthey buried, as too heavy for transport. The gold, pearls, rubies, emeralds, and diamonds they carried down straight to their ship. Thevoyage home went prosperously. The spoils were shared among theadventurers, and they had no reason to complain. They were wise enoughto hold their tongues, and Drake was in a condition to look about himand prepare for bigger enterprises. Rumours got abroad, spite of reticence. Imagination was high in flightjust then; rash amateurs thought they could make their fortunes in thesame way, and tried it, to their sorrow. A sort of inflation can betraced in English sailors' minds as their work expanded. EvenHawkins--the clear, practical Hawkins--was infected. This was not inDrake's line. He kept to prose and fact. He studied the globe. Heexamined all the charts that he could get. He became known to the PrivyCouncil and the Queen, and prepared for an enterprise which would makehis name and frighten Philip in earnest. The ships which the Spaniards used on the Pacific were usually built onthe spot. But Magellan was known to have gone by the Horn, and where aPortuguese could go an Englishman could go. Drake proposed to try. Therewas a party in Elizabeth's Council against these adventures, and infavour of peace with Spain; but Elizabeth herself was always forenterprises of pith and moment. She was willing to help, and others ofher Council were willing too, provided their names were not to appear. The responsibility was to be Drake's own. Again the vessels in which hewas preparing to tempt fortune seem preposterously small. The _Pelican_, or _Golden Hinde_, which belonged to Drake himself, was called but 120tons, at best no larger than a modern racing yawl, though perhaps noracing yawl ever left White's yard better found for the work which shehad to do. The next, the _Elizabeth_, of London, was said to be eightytons; a small pinnace of twelve tons, in which we should hardly risk asummer cruise round the Land's End, with two sloops or frigates of fiftyand thirty tons, made the rest. The _Elizabeth_ was commanded by CaptainWinter, a Queen's officer, and perhaps a son of the old admiral. We may credit Drake with knowing what he was about. He and his comradeswere carrying their lives in their hands. If they were taken they wouldbe inevitably hanged. Their safety depended on speed of sailing, andspecially on the power of working fast to windward, which the heavysquare-rigged ships could not do. The crews all told were 160 men andboys. Drake had his brother John with him. Among his officers were thechaplain, Mr. Fletcher, another minister of some kind who spoke Spanish, and in one of the sloops a mysterious Mr. Doughty. Who Mr. Doughty was, and why he was sent out, is uncertain. When an expedition of consequencewas on hand, the Spanish party in the Cabinet usually attached to itsome second in command whose business was to defeat the object. WhenDrake went to Cadiz in after years to singe King Philip's beard, he hada colleague sent with him whom he had to lock into his cabin before hecould get to his work. So far as I can make out, Mr. Doughty had asimilar commission. On this occasion secrecy was impossible. It wasgenerally known that Drake was going to the Pacific through MagellanStraits, to act afterwards on his own judgment. The Spanish ambassador, now Don Bernardino de Mendoza, in informing Philip of what was intended, advised him to send out orders for the instant sinking of every Englishship, and the execution of every English sailor, that appeared on eitherside the isthmus in West Indian waters. The orders were despatched, butso impossible it seemed that an English pirate could reach the Pacific, that the attention was confined to the Caribbean Sea, and not a hint ofalarm was sent across to the other side. On November 15, 1577, the _Pelican_ and her consort sailed out ofPlymouth Sound. The elements frowned on their start. On the second daythey were caught in a winter gale. The _Pelican_ sprung her mainmast, and they put back to refit and repair. But Drake defied auguries. Beforethe middle of December all was again in order. The weather mended, andwith a fair wind and smooth water they made a fast run across the Bay ofBiscay and down the coast to the Cape de Verde Islands. There taking upthe north-east trades, they struck across the Atlantic, crossed theline, and made the South American continent in latitude 33° South. Theypassed the mouth of the Plate River, finding to their astonishment freshwater at the ship's side in fifty-four fathoms. All seemed so far goingwell, when one morning Mr. Doughty's sloop was missing, and he alongwith her. Drake, it seemed, had already reason to distrust Doughty, andguessed the direction in which he had gone. The _Marigold_ was sent inpursuit, and he was overtaken and brought back. To prevent a repetitionof such a performance, Drake took the sloop's stores out of her, burnther, distributed the crew through the other vessels, and took Mr. Doughty under his own charge. On June 20 they reached Port St. Julian, on the coast of Patagonia. They had been long on the way, and thesouthern winter had come round, and they had to delay further to makemore particular inquiry into Doughty's desertion. An ominous and strangespectacle met their eyes as they entered the harbour. In that utterlydesolate spot a skeleton was hanging on a gallows, the bones pickedclean by the vultures. It was one of Magellan's crew who had beenexecuted there for mutiny fifty years before. The same fate was tobefall the unhappy Englishman who had been guilty of the same fault. Without the strictest discipline it was impossible for the enterprise tosucceed, and Doughty had been guilty of worse than disobedience. We aretold briefly that his conduct was found tending to contention, andthreatening the success of the voyage. Part he was said to haveconfessed; part was proved against him--one knows not what. A court wasformed out of the crew. He was tried, as near as circumstances allowed, according to English usage. He was found guilty, and was sentenced todie. He made no complaint, or none of which a record is preserved. Heasked for the Sacrament, which was of course allowed, and Drake himselfcommunicated with him. They then kissed each other, and the unluckywretch took leave of his comrades, laid his head on the block, and soended. His offence can be only guessed; but the suspicious curiosityabout his fate which was shown afterwards by Mendoza makes it likelythat he was in Spanish pay. The ambassador cross-questioned CaptainWinter very particularly about him, and we learn one remarkable factfrom Mendoza's letters not mentioned by any English writer, that Drakewas himself the executioner, choosing to bear the entire responsibility. 'This done, ' writes an eye-witness, 'the general made divers speeches tothe whole company, persuading us to unity, obedience, and regard of ourvoyage, and for the better confirmation thereof willed every man theSunday following to prepare himself to receive the Communion asChristian brothers and friends ought to do, which was done in veryreverend sort; and so with good contentment every man went about hisbusiness. ' You must take this last incident into your conception of Drake'scharacter, think of it how you please. It was now midwinter, the stormiest season of the year, and theyremained for six weeks in Port St. Julian. They burnt the twelve-tonpinnace, as too small for the work they had now before them, and thereremained only the _Pelican_, the _Elizabeth_, and the _Marigold_. Incold wild weather they weighed at last, and on August 20 made theopening of Magellan's Straits. The passage is seventy miles long, tortuous and dangerous. They had no charts. The ships' boats led, takingsoundings as they advanced. Icy mountains overhung them on either side;heavy snow fell below. They brought up occasionally at an island to restthe men, and let them kill a few seals and penguins to give them freshfood. Everything they saw was new, wild, and wonderful. Having to feel their way, they were three weeks in getting through. Theyhad counted on reaching the Pacific that the worst of their work wasover, and that they could run north at once into warmer and calmerlatitudes. The peaceful ocean, when they entered it, proved thestormiest they had ever sailed on. A fierce westerly gale drove them 600miles to the south-east outside the Horn. It had been supposed, hitherto, that Tierra del Fuego was solid land to the South Pole, andthat the Straits were the only communication between the Atlantic andthe Pacific. They now learnt the true shape and character of the WesternContinent. In the latitude of Cape Horn a westerly gale blows for everround the globe; the waves the highest anywhere known. The _Marigold_went down in the tremendous encounter. Captain Winter, in the_Elizabeth_, made his way back into Magellan's Straits. There he lay forthree weeks, lighting fires nightly to show Drake where he was, but noDrake appeared. They had agreed, if separated, to meet on the coast inthe latitude of Valparaiso; but Winter was chicken-hearted, or elsetraitorous like Doughty, and sore, we are told, 'against the mariners'will, ' when the three weeks were out, he sailed away for England, wherehe reported that all the ships were lost but the _Pelican_, and thatthe _Pelican_ was probably lost too. Drake had believed better of Winter, and had not expected to be sodeserted. He had himself taken refuge among the islands which form theCape, waiting for the spring and milder weather. He used the time inmaking surveys, and observing the habits of the native Patagonians, whomhe found a tough race, going naked amidst ice and snow. The dayslengthened, and the sea smoothed at last. He then sailed for Valparaiso, hoping to meet Winter there, as he had arranged. At Valparaiso there wasno Winter, but there was in the port instead a great galleon just comein from Peru. The galleon's crew took him for a Spaniard, hoisted theircolours, and beat their drums. The _Pelican_ shot alongside. The Englishsailors in high spirits leapt on board. A Plymouth lad who could speakSpanish knocked down the first man he met with an 'Abajo, perro!' 'Down, you dog, down!' No life was taken; Drake never hurt man if he could helpit. The crew crossed themselves, jumped overboard, and swam ashore. Theprize was examined. Four hundred pounds' weight of gold was found inher, besides other plunder. The galleon being disposed of, Drake and his men pulled ashore to lookat the town. The people had all fled. In the church they found achalice, two cruets, and an altar-cloth, which were made over to thechaplain to improve his Communion furniture. A few pipes of wine and aGreek pilot who knew the way to Lima completed the booty. 'Shocking piracy, ' you will perhaps say. But what Drake was doing wouldhave been all right and good service had war been declared, and theessence of things does not alter with the form. In essence there _was_war, deadly war, between Philip and Elizabeth. Even later, when theArmada sailed, there had been no formal declaration. The reality is theimportant part of the matter. It was but stroke for stroke, and theEnglish arm proved the stronger. Still hoping to find Winter in advance of him, Drake went on next toTarapaca, where silver from the Andes mines was shipped for Panama. AtTarapaca there was the same unconsciousness of danger. The silver barslay piled on the quay, the muleteers who had brought them were sleepingpeacefully in the sunshine at their side. The muleteers were left totheir slumbers. The bars were lifted into the English boats. A train ofmules or llamas came in at the moment with a second load as rich as thefirst. This, too, went into the _Pelican's_ hold. The bullion taken atTarapaca was worth near half a million ducats. Still there were no news of Winter. Drake began to realise that he wasnow entirely alone, and had only himself and his own crew to depend on. There was nothing to do but to go through with it, danger adding to theinterest. Arica was the next point visited. Half a hundred blocks ofsilver were picked up at Arica. After Arica came Lima, the chief depôtof all, where the grandest haul was looked for. At Lima, alas! they werejust too late. Twelve great hulks lay anchored there. The sails wereunbent, the men were ashore. They contained nothing but some chests ofreals and a few bales of silk and linen. But a thirteenth, called by thegods _Our Lady of the Conception_, called by men _Cacafuego_, a nameincapable of translation, had sailed a few days before for the isthmus, with the whole produce of the Lima mines for the season. Her ballast wassilver, her cargo gold and emeralds and rubies. Drake deliberately cut the cables of the ships in the roads, that theymight drive ashore and be unable to follow him. The _Pelican_ spread herwings, every feather of them, and sped away in pursuit. He would knowthe _Cacafuego_, so he learnt at Lima, by the peculiar cut of her sails. The first man who caught sight of her was promised a gold chain for hisreward. A sail was seen on the second day. It was not the chase, but itwas worth stopping for. Eighty pounds' weight of gold was found, and agreat gold crucifix, set with emeralds said to be as large as pigeon'seggs. They took the kernel. They left the shell. Still on and on. Welearn from the Spanish accounts that the Viceroy of Lima, as soon as herecovered from his astonishment, despatched ships in pursuit. They cameup with the last plundered vessel, heard terrible tales of the rovers'strength, and went back for a larger force. The _Pelican_ meanwhile wentalong upon her course for 800 miles. At length, when in the latitude ofQuito and close under the shore, the _Cacafuego's_ peculiar sails weresighted, and the gold chain was claimed. There she was, freighted withthe fruit of Aladdin's garden, going lazily along a few miles ahead. Care was needed in approaching her. If she guessed the _Pelican's_character, she would run in upon the land and they would lose her. Itwas afternoon. The sun was still above the horizon, and Drake meant towait till night, when the breeze would be off the shore, as in thetropics it always is. The _Pelican_ sailed two feet to the _Cacafuego's_ one. Drake filled hisempty wine-skins with water and trailed them astern to stop his way. Thechase supposed that she was followed by some heavy-loaded trader, and, wishing for company on a lonely voyage, she slackened sail and waitedfor him to come up. At length the sun went down into the ocean, the rosylight faded from off the snows of the Andes; and when both ships hadbecome invisible from the shore, the skins were hauled in, the nightwind rose, and the water began to ripple under the _Pelican's_ bows. The _Cacafuego_ was swiftly overtaken, and when within a cable's lengtha voice hailed her to put her head into the wind. The Spanish commander, not understanding so strange an order, held on his course. A broadsidebrought down his mainyard; and a flight of arrows rattled on his deck. He was himself wounded. In a few minutes he was a prisoner, and _OurLady of the Conception_ and her precious freight were in the corsair'spower. The wreck was cut away; the ship was cleared; a prize crew wasput on board. Both vessels turned their heads to the sea. At daybreak noland was to be seen, and the examination of the prize began. The fullvalue was never acknowledged. The invoice, if there was one, wasdestroyed. The accurate figures were known only to Drake and QueenElizabeth. A published schedule acknowledged to twenty tons of silverbullion, thirteen chests of silver coins, and a hundredweight of gold, but there were gold nuggets besides in indefinite quantity, and 'a greatstore' of pearls, emeralds, and diamonds. The Spanish Government proveda loss of a million and a half of ducats, excluding what belonged toprivate persons. The total capture was immeasurably greater. Drake, we are told, was greatly satisfied. He thought it prudent to stayin the neighbourhood no longer than necessary. He went north with allsail set, taking his prize along with him. The master, San Juan deAnton, was removed on board the _Pelican_ to have his wound attended to. He remained as Drake's guest for a week, and sent in a report of what heobserved to the Spanish Government. One at least of Drake's party spokeexcellent Spanish. This person took San Juan over the ship. She showedsigns, San Juan said, of rough service, but was still in fine condition, with ample arms, spare rope, mattocks, carpenters' tools of alldescriptions. There were eighty-five men on board all told, fifty ofthem men-of-war, the rest young fellows, ship-boys and the like. Drakehimself was treated with great reverence; a sentinel stood always at hiscabin door. He dined alone with music. No mystery was made of the _Pelican's_ exploits. The chaplain showed SanJuan the crucifix set with emeralds, and asked him if he couldseriously believe that to be God. San Juan asked Drake how he meant togo home. Drake showed him a globe with three courses traced on it. Therewas the way that he had come, there was the way by China and the Cape ofGood Hope, and there was a third way which he did not explain. San Juanasked if Spain and England were at war. Drake said he had a commissionfrom the Queen. His captures were for her, not for himself. He addedafterwards that the Viceroy of Mexico had robbed him and his kinsman, and he was making good his losses. Then, touching the point of the sore, he said, 'I know the Viceroy willsend for thee to inform himself of my proceedings. Tell him he shall dowell to put no more Englishmen to death, and to spare those he has inhis hands, for if he do execute them I will hang 2, 000 Spaniards andsend him their heads. ' After a week's detention San Juan and his men were restored to the empty_Cacafuego_, and allowed to go. On their way back they fell in with thetwo cruisers sent in pursuit from Lima, reinforced by a third fromPanama. They were now fully armed; they went in chase, and according totheir own account came up with the _Pelican_. But, like Lope de Vega, they seemed to have been terrified at Drake as a sort of devil. Theyconfessed that they dared not attack him, and again went back for moreassistance. The Viceroy abused them as cowards, arrested the officers, despatched others again with peremptory orders to seize Drake, even ifhe was the devil, but by that time their questionable visitor had flown. They found nothing, perhaps to their relief. A despatch went instantly across the Atlantic to Philip. One squadronwas sent off from Cadiz to watch the Straits of Magellan, and another topatrol the Caribbean Sea. It was thought that Drake's third way was noseaway at all, that he meant to leave the _Pelican_ at Darien, carry hisplunder over the mountains, and build a ship at Honduras to take himhome. His real idea was that he might hit off the passage to the northof which Frobisher and Davis thought they had found the easternentrance. He stood on towards California, picking up an occasionalstraggler in the China trade, with silk, porcelain, gold, and emeralds. Fresh water was a necessity. He put in at Guatulco for it, and hisproceedings were humorously prompt. The alcaldes at Guatulco were insession trying a batch of negroes. An English boat's crew appeared incourt, tied the alcaldes hand and foot, and carried them off to the_Pelican_, there to remain as hostages till the water-casks were filled. North again he fell in with a galleon carrying out a new Governor to thePhilippines. The Governor was relieved of his boxes and his jewels, andthen, says one of the party, 'Our General, thinking himself in respectof his private injuries received from the Spaniards, as also theircontempt and indignities offered to our country and Prince, sufficientlysatisfied and revenged, and supposing her Majesty would rest contentedwith this service, began to consider the best way home. ' The firstnecessity was a complete overhaul of the ship. Before the days of coppersheathing weeds grew thick under water. Barnacles formed in clusters, stopping the speed, and sea-worms bored through the planking. Twentythousand miles lay between the _Pelican_ and Plymouth Sound, and Drakewas not a man to run idle chances. Still holding his north course tillhe had left the furthest Spanish settlement far to the south, he putinto Canoas Bay in California, laid the _Pelican_ ashore, set up forgeand workshop, and repaired and re-rigged her with a month's labour fromstem to stern. With every rope new set up and new canvas on every yard, he started again on April 16, 1579, and continued up the coast toOregon. The air grew cold though it was summer. The men felt it fromhaving been so long in the tropics, and dropped out of health. There wasstill no sign of a passage. If passage there was, Drake perceived thatit must be of enormous length. Magellan's Straits, he guessed, would bewatched for him, so he decided on the route by the Cape of Good Hope. Inthe Philippine ship he had found a chart of the Indian Archipelago. Withthe help of this and his own skill he hoped to find his way. He wentdown again to San Francisco, landed there, found the soil teeming withgold, made acquaintance with an Indian king who hated the Spaniards andwished to become an English subject. But Drake had no leisure to annexnew territories. Avoiding the course from Mexico to the Philippines, hemade a direct course to the Moluccas, and brought up again at the Islandof Celebes. Here the _Pelican_ was a second time docked and scraped. Thecrew had a month's rest among the fireflies and vampires of the tropicalforest. Leaving Celebes, they entered on the most perilous part of thewhole voyage. They wound their way among coral reefs and low islandsscarcely visible above the water-line. In their chart the only outletmarked into the Indian Ocean was by the Straits of Malacca. But Drakeguessed rightly that there must be some nearer opening, and felt his waylooking for it along the coast of Java. Spite of all his care, he wasonce on the edge of destruction. One evening as night was closing in agrating sound was heard under the _Pelican's_ keel. In another momentshe was hard and fast on a reef. The breeze was light and the watersmooth, or the world would have heard no more of Francis Drake. She layimmovable till daybreak. At dawn the position was seen not to beentirely desperate. Drake himself showed all the qualities of a greatcommander. Cannon were thrown over and cargo that was not needed. In theafternoon, the wind changing, the lightened vessel lifted off the rocksand was saved. The hull was uninjured, thanks to the Californianrepairs. All on board had behaved well with the one exception of Mr. Fletcher, the chaplain. Mr. Fletcher, instead of working like a man, hadwhined about Divine retribution for the execution of Doughty. For the moment Drake passed it over. A few days after, they passed outthrough the Straits of Sunda, where they met the great ocean swell, Homer's [Greek: mega kuma thalassês], and they knew then that all waswell. There was now time to call Mr. Fletcher to account. It was no businessof the chaplain to discourage and dispirit men in a moment of danger, and a court was formed to sit upon him. An English captain on his owndeck represents the sovereign, and is head of Church as well as State. Mr. Fletcher was brought to the forecastle, where Drake, sitting on asea-chest with a pair of _pantoufles_ in his hand, excommunicated him, pronounced him cut off from the Church of God, given over to the devilfor the chastising of his flesh, and left him chained by the leg to aring-bolt to repent of his cowardice. In the general good-humour punishment could not be of long duration. Thenext day the poor chaplain had his absolution, and returned to his berthand his duty. The _Pelican_ met with no more adventures. Sweeping infine clear weather round the Cape of Good Hope, she touched once forwater at Sierra Leone, and finally sailed in triumph into PlymouthHarbour, where she had been long given up for lost, having traced thefirst furrow round the globe. Winter had come home eighteen monthsbefore, but could report nothing. The news of the doings on the Americancoast had reached England through Madrid. The Spanish ambassador hadbeen furious. It was known that Spanish squadrons had been sent insearch. Complications would arise if Drake brought his plunder home, andtimid politicians hoped that he was at the bottom of the sea. But herehe was, actually arrived with a monarch's ransom in his hold. English sympathy with an extraordinary exploit is always irresistible. Shouts of applause rang through the country, and Elizabeth, every bit ofher an Englishwoman, felt with her subjects. She sent for Drake toLondon, made him tell his story over and over again, and was never wearyof listening to him. As to injury to Spain, Philip had lighted a freshinsurrection in Ireland, which had cost her dearly in lives and money. For Philip to demand compensation of England on the score of justice wasa thing to make the gods laugh. So thought the Queen. So unfortunately did not think some members of herCouncil, Lord Burghley among them. Mendoza was determined that Drakeshould be punished and the spoils disgorged, or else that he would forceElizabeth upon the world as the confessed protectress of piracy. Burghley thought that, as things stood, some satisfaction (or the formof it) would have to be made. Elizabeth hated paying back as heartily as Falstaff, nor had she theleast intention of throwing to the wolves a gallant Englishman, withwhose achievements the world was ringing. She was obliged to allow thetreasure to be registered by a responsible official, and an accountrendered to Mendoza; but for all that she meant to keep her own share ofthe spoils. She meant, too, that Drake and his brave crew should not gounrewarded. Drake himself should have ten thousand pounds at least. Her action was eminently characteristic of her. On the score of realjustice there was no doubt at all how matters stood between herself andPhilip, who had tried to dethrone and kill her. The _Pelican_ lay still at Plymouth with the bullion and jewelsuntouched. She directed that it should be landed and scheduled. Shetrusted the business to Edmund Tremayne, of Sydenham, a neighbouringmagistrate, on whom she could depend. She told him not to be tooinquisitive, and she allowed Drake to go back and arrange the cargobefore the examination was made. Let me now read you a letter fromTremayne himself to Sir Francis Walsingham:-- 'To give you some understanding how I have proceeded with Mr. Drake: Ihave at no time entered into the account to know more of the value ofthe treasure than he made me acquainted with; and to say truth Ipersuaded him to impart to me no more than need, for so I saw himcommanded in her Majesty's behalf that he should reveal the certainty tono man living. I have only taken notice of so much as he _has_ revealed, and the same I have seen to be weighed, registered, and packed. And toobserve her Majesty's commands for the ten thousand pounds, we agreed heshould take it out of the portion that was landed secretly, and toremove the same out of the place before my son Henry and I should cometo the weighing and registering of what was left; and so it was done, and no creature living by me made privy to it but himself; and myself noprivier to it than as you may perceive by this. 'I see nothing to charge Mr. Drake further than he is inclined to chargehimself, and withal I must say he is inclined to advance the value to bedelivered to her Majesty, and seeking in general to recompense all menthat have been in the case dealers with him. As I dare take an oath, hewill rather diminish his own portion than leave any of them unsatisfied. And for his mariners and followers I have seen here as eye-witness, andhave heard with my ears, such certain signs of goodwill as I cannot yetsee that any of them will leave his company. The whole course of hisvoyage hath showed him to be of great valour; but my hap has been to seesome particulars, and namely in this discharge of his company, as dothassure me that he is a man of great government, and that by the rules ofGod and his book, so as proceeding on such foundation his doings cannotbut prosper. ' The result of it all was that deductions were made from the captureequivalent to the property which Drake and Hawkins held themselves tohave been treacherously plundered of at San Juan de Ulloa, with perhapsother liberal allowances for the cost of recovery. An account on part ofwhat remained was then given to Mendoza. It was not returned to him orto Philip, but was laid up in the Tower till the final settlement ofPhilip's and the Queen's claims on each other--the cost, for one thing, of the rebellion in Ireland. Commissioners met and argued and sat onineffectually till the Armada came and the discussion ended, and thetalk of restitution was over. Meanwhile, opinion varied about Drake'sown doings as it has varied since. Elizabeth listened spellbound to hisadventures, sent for him to London again, and walked with him publiclyabout the parks and gardens. She gave him a second ten thousand pounds. The _Pelican_ was sent round to Deptford; a royal banquet was held onboard, Elizabeth attended and Drake was knighted. Mendoza clamoured forthe treasure in the Tower to be given up to him; Walsingham wished togive it to the Prince of Orange; Leicester and his party in the Council, who had helped to fit Drake out, thought it ought to be divided amongthemselves, and unless Mendoza lies they offered to share it with him ifhe would agree to a private arrangement. Mendoza says he answered thathe would give twice as much to chastise such a bandit as Drake. Elizabeth thought it should be kept as a captured pawn in the game, andso in fact it remained after the deductions which we have seen had beenmade. Drake was lavish of his presents. He presented the Queen with a diamondcross and a coronet set with splendid emeralds. He gave Bromley, theLord Chancellor, 800 dollars' worth of silver plate, and as much more toother members of the Council. The Queen wore her coronet on New Year'sDay; the Chancellor was content to decorate his sideboard at the cost ofthe Catholic King. Burghley and Sussex declined the splendid temptation;they said they could accept no such precious gifts from a man whosefortune had been made by plunder. Burghley lived to see better into Drake's value. Meanwhile, what now arewe, looking back over our history, to say of these things--the Channelprivateering; the seizure of Alva's army money; the sharp practice ofHawkins with the Queen of Scots and King Philip; or this amazingperformance of Sir Francis Drake in a vessel no larger than asecond-rate yacht of a modern noble lord? Resolution, daring, professional skill, all historians allow to thesemen; but, like Burghley, they regard what they did as piracy, not muchbetter, if at all better, than the later exploits of Morgan and Kidd. Socried the Catholics who wished Elizabeth's ruin; so cried Lope de Vegaand King Philip. In milder language the modern philosopher repeats theunfavourable verdict, rejoices that he lives in an age when such doingsare impossible, and apologises faintly for the excesses of an imperfectage. May I remind the philosopher that we live in an age when otherthings have also happily become impossible, and that if he and hisfriends were liable when they went abroad for their summer tours to besnapped by the familiars of the Inquisition, whipped, burnt alive, orsent to the galleys, he would perhaps think more leniently of anymeasures by which that respectable institution and its masters might beinduced to treat philosophers with greater consideration? Again, remember Dr. Johnson's warning, Beware of cant. In that intenselyserious century men were more occupied with the realities than the formsof things. By encouraging rebellion in England and Ireland, by burningso many scores of poor English seamen and merchants in fools' coats atSeville, the King of Spain had given Elizabeth a hundred occasions fordeclaring war against him. Situated as she was, with so many disaffectedCatholic subjects, she could not _begin_ a war on such a quarrel. Shehad to use such resources as she had, and of these resources the bestwas a splendid race of men who were not afraid to do for her at theirown risk what commissioned officers would and might have justly done hadformal war been declared, men who defeated the national enemy withmaterials conquered from himself, who were devoted enough to dispensewith the personal security which the sovereign's commission would haveextended to prisoners of war, and face the certainty of being hanged ifthey were taken. Yes; no doubt by the letter of the law of nations Drakeand Hawkins were corsairs of the same stuff as Ulysses, as the rovers ofNorway. But the common-sense of Europe saw through the form to thesubstance which lay below it, and the instinct of their countrymen gavethem a place among the fighting heroes of England, from which I do notthink they will be deposed by the eventual verdict of history. LECTURE V PARTIES IN THE STATE On December 21, 1585, a remarkable scene took place in the English Houseof Commons. The Prince of Orange, after many attempts had failed, hadbeen successfully disposed of in the Low Countries. A fresh conspiracyhad just been discovered for a Catholic insurrection in England, supported by a foreign invasion; the object of which was to dethroneElizabeth and to give her crown to Mary Stuart. The Duke of Alva, at thetime of the Ridolfi plot, had pointed out as a desirable preliminary, ifthe invasion was to succeed, the assassination of the Queen of England. The succession being undecided, he had calculated that the confusionwould paralyse resistance, and the notorious favour with which MaryStuart's pretensions were regarded by a powerful English party wouldensure her an easy victory were Elizabeth once removed. But this was anindispensable condition. It had become clear at last that so long asElizabeth was alive Philip would not willingly sanction the landing of aSpanish army on English shores. Thus, among the more ardent Catholics, especially the refugees at the Seminary at Rheims, a crown in heaven washeld out to any spiritual knight-errant who would remove the obstacle. The enterprise itself was not a difficult one. Elizabeth was aware ofher danger, but she was personally fearless. She refused to distrust theCatholics. Her household was full of them. She admitted anyone to herpresence who desired a private interview. Dr. Parry, a member ofParliament, primed by encouragements from the Cardinal of Como and theVatican, had undertaken to risk his life to win the glorious prize. Heintroduced himself into the palace, properly provided with arms. Heprofessed to have information of importance to give. The Queen receivedhim repeatedly. Once he was alone with her in the palace garden, and wason the point of killing her, when he was awed, as he said, by thelikeness to her father. Parry was discovered and hanged, but Elizabethrefused to take warning. When there were so many aspirants for thehonour of removing Jezebel, and Jezebel was so easy of approach, it wasfelt that one would at last succeed; and the loyal part of the nation, led by Lord Burghley, formed themselves into an association to protect alife so vital to them and apparently so indifferent to herself. The subscribers bound themselves to pursue to the death all manner ofpersons who should attempt or consent to anything to the harm of herMajesty's person; never to allow or submit to any pretended successor bywhom or for whom such detestable act should be attempted or committed;but to pursue such persons to death and act the utmost revenge uponthem. The bond in its first form was a visible creation of despair. It implieda condition of things in which order would have ceased to exist. Thelawyers, who, it is curious to observe, were generally in Mary Stuart'sinterest, vehemently objected; yet so passionate was public feelingthat it was signed throughout the kingdom, and Parliament was called topass an Act which would secure the same object. Mary Stuart, at anyrate, was not to benefit by the crimes either of herself or heradmirers. It was provided that if the realm was invaded, or a rebellioninstigated by or for any one pretending a title to the crown after theQueen's death, such pretender should be disqualified for ever. In theevent of the Queen's assassination the government was to devolve on aCommittee of Peers and Privy Councillors, who were to examine theparticulars of the murder and execute the perpetrators and theiraccomplices; while, with a significant allusion, all Jesuits andseminary priests were required to leave the country instantly, underpain of death. The House of Commons was heaving with emotion when the Act was sent upto the Peers. To give expression to their burning feelings SirChristopher Hatton proposed that before they separated they should joinhim in a prayer for the Queen's preservation. The 400 members all rose, and knelt on the floor of the House, repeating Hatton's words after him, sentence by sentence. Jesuits and seminary priests! Attempts have been made to justify theconspiracies against Elizabeth from what is called the persecution ofthe innocent enthusiasts who came from Rheims to preach the Catholicfaith to the English people. Popular writers and speakers dwell on theexecutions of Campian and his friends as worse than the Smithfieldburnings, and amidst general admiration and approval these martyredsaints have been lately canonised. Their mission, it is said, was purelyreligious. Was it so? The chief article in the religion which they cameto teach was the duty of obedience to the Pope, who had excommunicatedthe Queen, had absolved her subjects from their allegiance, and, by arelaxation of the Bull, had permitted them to pretend to loyalty _adillud tempus_, till a Catholic army of deliverance should arrive. A Popehad sent a legate to Ireland, and was at that moment stirring up abloody insurrection there. But what these seminary priests were, and what their object was, willbest appear from an account of the condition of England, drawn up forthe use of the Pope and Philip, by Father Parsons, who was himself atthe head of the mission. The date of it is 1585, almost simultaneouswith the scene in Parliament which I have just been describing. TheEnglish refugees, from Cardinal Pole downwards, were the most active andpassionate preachers of a Catholic crusade against England. They failed, but they have revenged themselves in history. Pole, Sanders, Allen, andParsons have coloured all that we suppose ourselves to know of HenryVIII. And Elizabeth. What I am about to read to you does not differessentially from what we have already heard from these persons; but itis new, and, being intended for practical guidance, is complete in itsway. It comes from the Spanish archives, and is not therefore open tosuspicion. Parsons, as you know, was a Fellow of Balliol before hisconversion; Allen was a Fellow of Oriel, and Sanders of New College. AnOxford Church of England education is an excellent thing, and beautifulcharacters have been formed in the Catholic universities abroad; but asthe elements of dynamite are innocent in themselves, yet when fusedtogether produce effects no one would have dreamt of, so Oxford andRome, when they have run together, have always generated a somewhatfurious compound. Parsons describes his statement as a 'brief note on the presentcondition of England, ' from which may be inferred the ease andopportuneness of the holy enterprise. 'England, ' he says, 'containsfifty-two counties, of which forty are well inclined to the Catholicfaith. Heretics in these are few, and are hated by all ranks. Theremaining twelve are infected more or less, but even in these theCatholics are in the majority. Divide England into three parts;two-thirds at least are Catholic at heart, though many conceal theirconvictions in fear of the Queen. English Catholics are of twosorts--one which makes an open profession regardless of consequences, the other believing at the bottom, but unwilling to risk life orfortune, and so submitting outwardly to the heretic laws, but as eageras the Catholic confessors for redemption from slavery. 'The Queen and her party, ' he goes on, 'more fear these secret Catholicsthan those who wear their colours openly. The latter they can fine, disarm, and make innocuous. The others, being outwardly compliant, cannot be touched, nor can any precaution be taken against their risingwhen the day of divine vengeance shall arrive. 'The counties specially Catholic are the most warlike, and containharbours and other conveniences for the landing of an invading army. Thenorth towards the Scotch border has been trained in constant fighting. The Scotch nobles on the other side are Catholic and will lend theirhelp. So will all Wales. 'The inhabitants of the midland and southern provinces, where the taintis deepest, are indolent and cowardly, and do not know what war means. The towns are more corrupt than the country districts. But the strengthof England does not lie, as on the Continent, in towns and cities. Thetown population are merchants and craftsmen, rarely or never nobles ormagnates. 'The nobility, who have the real power, reside with their retinues incastles scattered over the land. The wealthy yeomen are strong andhonest, all attached to the ancient faith, and may be counted on when anattempt is made for the restoration of it. The knights and gentry aregenerally well affected also, and will be well to the front. Many oftheir sons are being now educated in our seminaries. Some are in exile, but all, whether at home or abroad, will be active on our side. 'Of the great peers, marquises, earls, viscounts, and barons, part arewith us, part against us. But the latter sort are new creations, whomthe Queen has promoted either for heresy or as her personal lovers, andtherefore universally abhorred. 'The premier peer of the old stock is the Earl of Arundel, son and heirof the late Duke of Norfolk, whom she has imprisoned because he tried toescape out of the realm. This earl is entirely Catholic, as well as hisbrothers and kinsmen; and they have powerful vassals who are eager torevenge the injury of their lord. The Earl of Northumberland and hisbrothers are Catholics. They too have family wrongs to repay, theirfather having been this year murdered in the Tower, and they have placedthemselves at my disposal. The Earl of Worcester and his heir hateheresy, and are devoted to us with all their dependents. The Earls ofCumberland and Southampton and Viscount Montague are faithful, and havea large following. Besides these we have many of the barons--Dacre, Morley, Vaux, Windsor, Wharton, Lovelace, Stourton, and others besides. The Earl of Westmoreland, with Lord Paget and Sir Francis Englefield, who reside abroad, have been incredibly earnest in promoting ourenterprise. With such support, it is impossible that we can fail. Theselords and gentlemen, when they see efficient help coming to them, willcertainly rise, and for the following reasons:-- '1. Because some of the principals among them have given me theirpromise. '2. Because, on hearing that Pope Pius intended to excommunicate anddepose the Queen sixteen years ago, many Catholics did rise. They onlyfailed because no support was sent them, and the Pope's sentence had notat that time been actually published. Now, when the Pope has spoken andhelp is certain, there is not a doubt how they will act. '3. Because the Catholics are now much more numerous, and have receiveddaily instruction in their religion from our priests. There is now noorthodox Catholic in the whole realm who supposes that he is any longerbound in conscience to obey the Queen. Books for the occasion have beenwritten and published by us, in which we prove that it is not onlylawful for Catholics, but their positive duty, to fight against theQueen and heresy when the Pope bids them; and these books are sogreedily read among them that when the time comes they are certain totake arms. '4. The Catholics in these late years have shown their real feeling inthe martyrdoms of priests and laymen, and in attempts made by several ofthem against the person and State of the Queen. Various Catholics havetried to kill her at the risk of their own lives, and are still trying. '5. We have three hundred priests dispersed among the houses of thenobles and honest gentry. Every day we add to their number; and thesepriests will direct the consciences and actions of the Catholics at thegreat crisis. '6. They have been so harried and so worried that they hate theheretics worse than they hate the Turks. 'Should any of them fear the introduction of a Spanish army as dangerousto their national liberties, there is an easy way to satisfy theirscruples. Let it be openly declared that the enterprise is undertaken inthe name of the Pope, and there will be no more hesitation. We haveourselves prepared a book for their instruction, to be issued at theright moment. If his Holiness desires to see it we will have ittranslated into Latin for his use. 'Before the enterprise is undertaken the sentence of excommunication anddeposition ought to be reissued, with special clauses. 'It must be published in all adjoining Catholic countries; all Catholickings and princes must be admonished to forbid every description ofintercourse with the pretended Queen and her heretic subjects, andthemselves especially to make or observe no treaties with her, to sendno embassies to her and admit none; to render no help to her of any sortor kind. 'Besides those who will be our friends for religion's sake we shallhave others with us--neutrals or heretics of milder sort, or atheists, with whom England now abounds, who will join us in the interest of theQueen of Scots. Among them are the Marquis of Winchester, the Earls ofShrewsbury, Derby, Oxford, Rutland, and several other peers. The Queenof Scots herself will be of infinite assistance to us in securing these. She knows who are her secret friends. She has been able so far, and wetrust will always be able, to communicate with them. She will see thatthey are ready at the right time. She has often written to me to saythat she hopes that she will be able to escape when the time comes. Inher last letter she urges me to be vehement with his Holiness in pushingon the enterprise, and bids him have no concern for her own safety. Shebelieves that she can care for herself. If not, she says she will loseher life willingly in a cause so sacred. 'The enemies that we shall have to deal with are the more determinedheretics whom we call Puritans, and certain creatures of the Queen, theEarls of Leicester and Huntingdon, and a few others. They will have anadvantage in the money in the Treasury, the public arms and stores, andthe army and navy, but none of them have ever seen a camp. The leadershave been nuzzled in love-making and Court pleasures, and they will allfly at the first shock of war. They have not a man who can command inthe field. In the whole realm there are but two fortresses which couldstand a three days' siege. The people are enervated by long peace, and, except a few who have served with the heretics in Flanders, cannot beartheir arms. Of those few some are dead and some have deserted to thePrince of Parma, a clear proof of the real disposition to revolt. Thereis abundance of food and cattle in the country, all of which will be atour service and cannot be kept from us. Everywhere there are safe androomy harbours, almost all undefended. An invading force can be landedwith ease, and there will be no lack of local pilots. Fifteen thousandtrained soldiers will be sufficient, aided by the Catholic English, though, of course, the larger the force, particularly if it includescavalry, the quicker the work will be done and the less the expense. Practically there will be nothing to overcome save an unwarlike andundisciplined mob. 'Sixteen times England has been invaded. Twice only the native race haverepelled the attacking force. They have been defeated on every otheroccasion, and with a cause so holy and just as ours we need not fear tofail. The expenses shall be repaid to his Holiness and the Catholic Kingout of the property of the heretics and the Protestant clergy. Therewill be ample in these resources to compensate all who give us theirhand. But the work must be done promptly. Delay will be infinitelydangerous. If we put off, as we have done hitherto, the Catholics willbe tired out and reduced in numbers and strength. The nobles and priestsnow in exile, and able to be of such service, will break down inpoverty. The Queen of Scots may be executed or die a natural death, orsomething may happen to the Catholic King or his Holiness. The Queen ofEngland may herself die, a heretic Government may be reconstructed undera heretic successor, the young Scotch king or some other, and our casewill then be desperate; whereas if we can prevent this and save theQueen of Scots there will be good hope of converting her son andreducing the whole island to the obedience of the faith. Now is themoment. The French Government cannot interfere. The Duke of Guise willhelp us for the sake of the faith and for his kinswoman. The Turks arequiet. The Church was never stronger or more united. Part of Italy isunder the Catholic King; the rest is in league with his Holiness. Therevolt in the Low Countries is all but crushed. The sea provinces are onthe point of surrendering. If they give up the contest their harbourswill be at our service for the invasion. If not, the way to conquer themis to conquer England. 'I need not urge how much it imports his Holiness to undertake thisglorious work. He, supremely wise as he is, knows that from this Jezebeland her supporters come all the perils which disturb the Christianworld. He knows that heretical depravity and all other miseries can onlyend when this woman is chastised. Reverence for his Holiness and lovefor my afflicted country force me to speak. I submit to his most holyjudgment myself and my advice. ' The most ardent Catholic apologist will hardly maintain, in the face ofthis document, that the English Jesuits and seminary priests were theinnocent missionaries of religion which the modern enemies ofElizabeth's Government describe them. Father Parsons, the writer of it, was himself the leader and director of the Jesuit invasion, and cannotbe supposed to have misrepresented the purpose for which they had beensent over. The point of special interest is the account which he givesof the state of parties and general feeling in the English people. Wasthere that wide disposition to welcome an invading army in so large amajority of the nation? The question is supposed to have beentriumphantly answered three years later, when it is asserted that thedifference of creed was forgotten, and Catholics and Protestants foughtside by side for the liberties of England. But, in the first place, thecircumstances were changed. The Queen of Scots no longer lived, and thesuccess of the Armada implied a foreign sovereign. But, next, theexperiment was not tried. The battle was fought at sea, by a fleetfour-fifths of which was composed of Protestant adventurers, fitted outand manned by those zealous Puritans whose fidelity to the Queen Parsonshimself admitted. Lord Howard may have been an Anglo-Catholic; RomanCatholic he never was; but he and his brother were the only loyalists inthe House of Howard. Arundel and the rest of his kindred were all thatParsons claimed for them. How the country levies would have behaved hadParma landed is still uncertain. It is likely that if the Spanish armyhad gained a first success, there might have been some who would havebehaved as Sir William Stanley did. It is observable that Parsonsmentions Leicester and Huntingdon as the only powerful peers on whom theQueen could rely, and Leicester, otherwise the unfittest man in herdominions, she chose to command her land army. The Duke of Alva and his master Philip, both of them distrustedpolitical priests. Political priests, they said, did not understand thefacts of things. Theological enthusiasm made them credulous of what theywished. But Father Parsons's estimate is confirmed in all its parts bythe letters of Mendoza, the Spanish ambassador in London. Mendoza washimself a soldier, and his first duty was to learn the real truth. Itmay be taken as certain that, with the Queen of Scots still alive tosucceed to the throne, at the time of the scene in the House of Commons, with which I began this lecture, the great majority of the country partydisliked the Reformers, and were looking forward to the accession of aCatholic sovereign, and as a consequence to a religious revolution. It explains the difficulty of Elizabeth's position and the inconsistencyof her political action. Burghley, Walsingham, Mildmay, Knolles, theelder Bacon, were believing Protestants, and would have had her putherself openly at the head of a Protestant European league. Theybelieved that right and justice were on their side, that their side wasGod's cause, as they called it, and that God would care for it. Elizabeth had no such complete conviction. She disliked dogmatism, Protestant as well as Catholic. She ridiculed Mr. Cecil and his brothersin Christ. She thought, like Erasmus, that the articles of faith, forwhich men were so eager to kill one another, were subjects which theyknew very little about, and that every man might think what he would onsuch matters without injury to the commonwealth. To become 'head of thename' would involve open war with the Catholic powers. War meant wartaxes, which more than half her subjects would resent or resist. Religion as she understood it was a development of law--the law of moralconduct. You could not have two laws in one country, and you could nothave two religions; but the outward form mattered comparatively little. The people she ruled over were divided about these forms. They weremainly fools, and if she let them each have chapels and churches oftheir own, molehills would become mountains, and the congregations wouldgo from arguing into fighting. With Parliament to help her, therefore, she established a Liturgy, in which those who wished to find the Masscould hear the Mass, while those who wanted predestination andjustification by faith could find it in the Articles. Both could meetunder a common roof, and use a common service, if they would only bereasonable. If they would not be reasonable, the Catholics might havetheir own ritual in their own houses, and would not be interfered with. This system continued for the first eleven years of Elizabeth's reign. No Catholic, she could proudly say, had ever during that time beenmolested for his belief. There was a small fine for non-attendance atchurch, but even this was rarely levied, and by the confession of theJesuits the Queen's policy was succeeding too well. Sensible men beganto see that the differences of religion were not things to quarrel over. Faith was growing languid. The elder generation, who had lived throughthe Edward and Mary revolutions, were satisfied to be left undisturbed;a new generation was growing up, with new ideas; and so the Church ofRome bestirred itself. Elizabeth was excommunicated. The cycle began ofintrigue and conspiracy, assassination plots, and Jesuit invasions. Punishments had to follow, and in spite of herself Elizabeth was driveninto what the Catholics could call religious persecution. Religious itwas not, for the seminary priests were missionaries of treason. Butreligious it was made to appear. The English gentleman who wished toremain loyal, without forfeiting his faith, was taught to see that asovereign under the Papal curse had no longer a claim on his allegiance. If he disobeyed the Pope, he had ceased to be a member of the Church ofChrist. The Papal party grew in coherence, while, opposed to them astheir purpose came in view, the Protestants, who at first had beeninclined to Lutheranism, adopted the deeper and sterner creed of Calvinand Geneva. The memories of the Marian cruelties revived again. They sawthemselves threatened with a return to stake and fagot. They closedtheir ranks and resolved to die rather than submit again to Antichrist. They might be inferior in numbers. A _plébiscite_ in England at thatmoment would have sent Burghley and Walsingham to the scaffold. But theLord could save by few as well as by many. Judah had but two tribes outof the twelve, but the words of the men of Judah were fiercer than thewords of Israel. One great mistake had been made by Parsons. He could not estimate whathe could not understand. He admitted that the inhabitants of the townswere mainly heretic--London, Bristol, Plymouth, and the rest--but hedespised them as merchants, craftsmen, mean persons who had no heart tofight in them. Nothing is more remarkable in the history of thesixteenth century than the effect of Calvinism in levelling distinctionsof rank and in steeling and ennobling the character of common men. InScotland, in the Low Countries, in France, there was the samephenomenon. In Scotland, the Kirk was the creation of the preachers andthe people, and peasants and workmen dared to stand in the field againstbelted knights and barons, who had trampled on their fathers forcenturies. The artisans of the Low Countries had for twenty years defiedthe whole power of Spain. The Huguenots were not a fifth part of theFrench nation, yet defeat could never dishearten them. Again and againthey forced Crown and nobles to make terms with them. It was the same inEngland. The allegiance to their feudal leaders dissolved into a higherobligation to the King of kings, whose elect they believed themselves tobe. Election to them was not a theological phantasm, but an enlistmentin the army of God. A little flock they might be, but they were adangerous people to deal with, most of all in the towns on the sea. Thesea was the element of the Reformers. The Popes had no jurisdiction overthe winds and waves. Rochelle was the citadel of the Huguenots. TheEnglish merchants and mariners had wrongs of their own, perpetuallyrenewed, which fed the bitterness of their indignation. Touch where theywould in Spanish ports, the inquisitor's hand was on their ships' crews, and the crews, unless they denied their faith, were handed over to thestake or the galleys. The Calvinists are accused of intolerance. I fancythat even in these humane and enlightened days we should not be verytolerant if the King of Dahomey were to burn every European visitor tohis dominions who would not worship Mumbo Jumbo. The Duke of Alva wasnot very merciful to heretics, but he tried to bridle the zeal of theHoly Office in burning the English seamen. Even Philip himselfremonstrated. It was to no purpose. The Holy Office said they wouldthink about it, but concluded to go on. I am not the least surprised ifthe English seamen were intolerant. I should be very much surprised ifthey had not been. The Queen could not protect them. They had to protectthemselves as they could, and make Spanish vessels, when they couldcatch them, pay for the iniquities of their rulers. With such a temper rising on both sides, Elizabeth's policy had but apoor chance. She still hoped that the better sense of mankind would keepthe doctrinal enthusiasts in order. Elizabeth wished her subjects wouldbe content to live together in unity of spirit, if not in unity oftheory, in the bond of peace, not hatred, in righteousness of life, notin orthodoxy preached by stake and gibbet. She was content to wait andto persevere. She refused to declare war. War would tear the world inpieces. She knew her danger. She knew that she was in constant peril ofassassination. She knew that if the Protestants were crushed inScotland, in France, and in the Low Countries, her own turn wouldfollow. To protect insurgents avowedly would be to justify insurrectionagainst herself. But what she would not do openly she would do secretly. What she would not do herself she let her subjects do. Thousands ofEnglish volunteers fought in Flanders for the States, and in France forthe Huguenots. When the English Treasury was shut to the entreaties ofColigny or William of Orange the London citizens untied theirpurse-strings. Her friends in Scotland fared ill. They were encouragedby promises which were not observed, because to observe them might bringon war. They committed themselves for her sake. They fell one afteranother--Murray, Morton, Gowrie--into bloody graves. Others took theirplaces and struggled on. The Scotch Reformation was saved. Scotland wasnot allowed to open its arms to an invading army to strike Englandacross the Border. But this was held to be their sufficient recompense. They cared for their cause as well as for the English Queen, and theyhad their reward. If they saved her they saved their own country. Shetoo did not lie on a bed of roses. To prevent open war she was exposingher own life to the assassin. At any moment a pistol-shot or a stab witha dagger might add Elizabeth to the list of victims. She knew it, yetshe went on upon her own policy, and faced in her person her own shareof the risk. One thing only she did. If she would not defend her friendsand her subjects as Queen of England, she left them free to defendthemselves. She allowed traitors to be hanged when they were caught attheir work. She allowed the merchants to fit out their privateer fleets, to defend at their own cost the shores of England, and to teach theSpaniards to fear their vengeance. But how long was all this to last? How long were loyal citizens to feelthat they were living over a loaded mine?--throughout their own country, throughout the Continent, at Rome and at Madrid, at Brussels and atParis, a legion of conspirators were driving their shafts under theEnglish commonwealth. The Queen might be indifferent to her own danger, but on the Queen's life hung the peace of the whole realm. A stroke of aponiard, a touch of a trigger, and swords would be flying from theirscabbards in every county; England would become, like France, one wildscene of anarchy and civil war. No successor had been named. The Queenrefused to hear a successor declared. Mary Stuart's hand had been inevery plot since she crossed the Border. Twice the House of Commons hadpetitioned for her execution. Elizabeth would neither touch her life norallow her hopes of the crown to be taken from her. The Bond ofAssociation was but a remedy of despair, and the Act of Parliament wouldhave passed for little in the tempest which would immediately rise. Theagony reached a height when the fatal news came from the Netherlandsthat there at last assassination had done its work. The Prince ofOrange, after many failures, had been finished, and a libel was found inthe Palace at Westminster exhorting the ladies of the household toprovide a Judith among themselves to rid the world of the EnglishHolofernes. One part of Elizabeth's subjects, at any rate, were not disposed to sitdown in patience under the eternal nightmare. From Spain was to come thearmy of deliverance for which the Jesuits were so passionately longing. To the Spaniards the Pope was looking for the execution of the Bull ofDeposition. Father Parsons had left out of his estimate the Protestantadventurers of London and Plymouth, who, besides their creed and theirpatriotism, had their private wrongs to revenge. Philip might talk ofpeace, and perhaps in weariness might at times seriously wish for it;but between the Englishmen whose life was on the ocean and the SpanishInquisition, which had burned so many of them, there was no peacepossible. To them, Spain was the natural enemy. Among the daring spiritswho had sailed with Drake round the globe, who had waylaid the Spanishgold ships, and startled the world with their exploits, the joy of whoselives had been to fight Spaniards wherever they could meet with them, there was but one wish--for an honest open war. The great galleons wereto them no objects of terror. The Spanish naval power seemed to them a'Colossus stuffed with clouts. ' They were Protestants all of them, buttheir theology was rather practical than speculative. If Italians andSpaniards chose to believe in the Mass, it was not any affair of theirs. Their quarrel was with the insolent pretence of Catholics to force theircreed on others with sword and cannon. The spirit which was working inthem was the genius of freedom. On their own element they felt thatthey could be the spiritual tyrants' masters. But as things were going, rebellion was likely to break out at home; their homesteads might beburning, their country overrun with the Prince of Parma's army, theInquisition at their own doors, and a Catholic sovereign bringing backthe fagots of Smithfield. The Reformation at its origin was no introduction of novel heresies. Itwas a revolt of the laity of Europe against the profligacy and avariceof the clergy. The popes and cardinals pretended to be therepresentatives of Heaven. When called to account for abuse of theirpowers, they had behaved precisely as mere corrupt human kings andaristocracies behave. They had intrigued; they had excommunicated; theyhad set nation against nation, sovereigns against their subjects; theyhad encouraged assassination; they had made themselves infamous byhorrid massacres, and had taught one half of foolish Christendom to hatethe other. The hearts of the poor English seamen whose comrades had beenburnt at Seville to make a Spanish holiday, thrilled with a sacreddetermination to end such scenes. The purpose that was in them brokeinto a wild war-music, as the wind harp swells and screams under thebreath of the storm. I found in the Record Office an unsigned letter ofsome inspired old sea-dog, written in a bold round hand and addressed toElizabeth. The ships' companies which in summer served in Philip'smen-of-war went in winter in thousands to catch cod on the Banks ofNewfoundland. 'Give me five vessels, ' the writer said, 'and I will goout and sink them all, and the galleons shall rot in Cadiz Harbour forwant of hands to sail them. But decide, Madam, and decide quickly. Timeflies, and will not return. _The wings of man's life are plumed with thefeathers of death. _' The Queen did not decide. The five ships were not sent, and the poorCastilian sailors caught their cod in peace. But in spite of herselfElizabeth was driven forward by the tendencies of things. The death ofthe Prince of Orange left the States without a Government. The Prince ofParma was pressing them hard. Without a leader they were lost. Theyoffered themselves to Elizabeth, to be incorporated in the EnglishEmpire. They said that if she refused they must either submit to Spainor become provinces of France. The Netherlands, whether Spanish orFrench, would be equally dangerous to England. The Netherlands oncebrought back under the Pope, England's turn would come next; while toaccept the proposal meant instant and desperate war, both with Franceand Spain too--for France would never allow England again to gain a footon the Continent. Elizabeth knew not what to do. She would and she wouldnot. She did not accept; she did not refuse. It was neither No nor Yes. Philip, who was as fond of indirect ways as herself, proposed to quickenher irresolution. The harvest had failed in Galicia, and the population were starving. England grew more corn than she wanted, and, under a special promisethat the crews should not be molested, a fleet of corn-traders had gonewith cargoes of grain to Coruña, Bilbao, and Santander. The King ofSpain, on hearing that Elizabeth was treating with the States, issued asudden order to seize the vessels, confiscate the cargoes, and imprisonthe men. The order was executed. One English ship only was lucky enoughto escape by the adroitness of her commander. The _Primrose_, of London, lay in Bilbao Roads with a captain and fifteen hands. The mayor, onreceiving the order, came on board to look over the ship. He then wenton shore for a sufficient force to carry out the seizure. After he wasgone the captain heard of the fate which was intended for him. The mayorreturned with two boatloads of soldiers, stepped up the ladder, touchedthe captain on the shoulder, and told him he was a prisoner. TheEnglishmen snatched pike and cutlass, pistol and battleaxe, killed sevenor eight of the Spanish boarders, threw the rest overboard, and flungstones on them as they scrambled into their boats. The mayor, who hadfallen into the sea, caught a rope and was hauled up when the fight wasover. The cable was cut, the sails hoisted, and in a few minutes the_Primrose_ was under way for England, with the mayor of Bilbao below thehatches. No second vessel got away. If Philip had meant to frightenElizabeth he could not have taken a worse means of doing it, for he hadexasperated that particular part of the English population which wasleast afraid of him. He had broken faith besides, and had seized somehundreds of merchants and sailors who had gone merely to relieve Spanishdistress. Elizabeth, as usual, would not act herself. She sent no shipsfrom her own navy to demand reparation; but she gave the adventurers afree hand. The London and Plymouth citizens determined to read Spain alesson which should make an impression. They had the worst fears for thefate of the prisoners; but if they could not save, they could avengethem. Sir Francis Drake, who wished for nothing better than to be atwork again, volunteered his services, and a fleet was collected atPlymouth of twenty-five sail, every one of them fitted out by privateenterprise. No finer armament, certainly no better-equipped armament, ever left the English shores. The expenses were, of course, enormous. Ofseamen and soldiers there were between two and three thousand. Drake'sname was worth an army. The cost was to be recovered out of theexpedition somehow; the Spaniards were to be made to pay for it; but howor when was left to Drake's judgment. This time there was no second incommand sent by the friends of Spain to hang upon his arm. By universalconsent he had the absolute command. His instructions were merely toinquire at Spanish ports into the meaning of the arrest. Beyond that hewas left to go where he pleased and do what he pleased on his ownresponsibility. The Queen said frankly that if it proved convenient sheintended to disown him. Drake had no objection to being disowned, so hecould teach the Spaniards to be more careful how they handledEnglishmen. What came of it will be the subject of the next lecture. Father Parsons said the Protestant traders of England had growneffeminate and dared not fight. In the ashes of their own smoking citiesthe Spaniards had to learn that Father Parsons had misread hiscountrymen. If Drake had been given to heroics he might have leftVirgil's lines inscribed above the broken arms of Castile at St. Domingo: En ego victa situ quam veri effeta senectus Arma inter regum falsa formidine ludit: Respice ad hæc. LECTURE VI THE GREAT EXPEDITION TO THE WEST INDIES Queen Elizabeth and her brother-in-law of Spain were reluctant championsof opposing principles. In themselves they had no wish to quarrel, buteach was driven forward by fate and circumstance--Philip by the geniusof the Catholic religion, Elizabeth by the enthusiasts for freedom andby the advice of statesmen who saw no safety for her except in daring. Both wished for peace, and refused to see that peace was impossible; butboth were compelled to yield to their subjects' eagerness. Philip had tothreaten England with invasion; Elizabeth had to show Philip thatEngland had a long arm, which Spanish wisdom would do well to fear. Itwas a singular position. Philip had outraged orthodoxy and dared theanger of Rome by maintaining an ambassador at Elizabeth's Court afterher excommunication. He had laboured for a reconciliation with asincerity which his secret letters make it impossible to doubt. He hadcondescended even to sue for it, in spite of Drake and the voyage of the_Pelican_; yet he had helped the Pope to set Ireland in a flame. He hadencouraged Elizabeth's Catholic subjects in conspiracy after conspiracy. He had approved of attempts to dispose of her as he had disposed of thePrince of Orange. Elizabeth had retaliated, though with half a heart, byletting her soldiers volunteer into the service of the revoltedNetherlands, by permitting English privateers to plunder the Spanishcolonies, seize the gold ships, and revenge their own wrongs. Each, perhaps, had wished to show the other what an open war would cost themboth, and each drew back when war appeared inevitable. Events went their way. Holland and Zeeland, driven to extremity, hadpetitioned for incorporation with England; as a counter-stroke and awarning, Philip had arrested the English corn ships and imprisoned theowners and the crews. Her own fleet was nothing. The safety of theEnglish shores depended on the spirit of the adventurers, and she couldnot afford to check the anger with which the news was received. Toaccept the offer of the States was war, and war she would not have. Herself, she would not act at all; but in her usual way she might lether subjects act for themselves, and plead, as Philip pleaded in excusefor the Inquisition, that she could not restrain them. And thus it wasthat in September 1585, Sir Francis Drake found himself with a fleet oftwenty-five privateers and 2, 500 men who had volunteered to serve withhim under his own command. He had no distinct commission. The expeditionhad been fitted out as a private undertaking. Neither officers nor crewshad been engaged for the service of the Crown. They received no wages. In the eye of the law they were pirates. They were going on their ownaccount to read the King of Spain a necessary lesson and pay theirexpenses at the King of Spain's cost. Young Protestant England had takenfire. The name of Drake set every Protestant heart burning, and hundredsof gallant gentlemen had pressed in to join. A grandson of Burghley hadcome, and Edward Winter the Admiral's son, and Francis Knolles theQueen's cousin, and Martin Frobisher, and Christopher Carlile. PhilipSidney had wished to make one also in the glory; but Philip Sidney wasneeded elsewhere. The Queen's consent had been won from her at a boldinterval in her shifting moods. The hot fit might pass away, andBurghley sent Drake a hint to be off before her humour changed. No wordwas said. On the morning of the 14th of September the signal flag wasflying from Drake's maintop to up anchor and away. Drake, as he admittedafter, 'was not the most assured of her Majesty's perseverance to letthem go forward. ' Past Ushant he would be beyond reach of recall. Withlight winds and calms they drifted across the Bay. They fell in with afew Frenchmen homeward-bound from the Banks, and let them passuninjured. A large Spanish ship which they met next day, loaded withexcellent fresh salt fish, was counted lawful prize. The fish was newand good, and was distributed through the fleet. Standing leisurely on, they cleared Finisterre and came up with the Isles of Bayona, at themouth of Vigo Harbour. They dropped anchor there, and 'it was a greatmatter and a royal sight to see them. ' The Spanish Governor, Don PedroBemadero, sent off with some astonishment to know who and what theywere. Drake answered with a question whether England and Spain were atwar, and if not why the English merchants had been arrested. Don Pedrocould but say that he knew of no war, and for the merchants an order hadcome for their release. For reply Drake landed part of his force on theislands, and Don Pedro, not knowing what to make of such visitors, foundit best to propitiate them with cartloads of wine and fruit. Theweather, which had been hitherto fine, showed signs of change. The windrose, and the sea with it. The anchorage was exposed, and Drake sentChristopher Carlile, with one of his ships and a few pinnaces, up theharbour to look out for better shelter. Their appearance created a panicin the town. The alarmed inhabitants took to their boats, carrying offtheir property and their Church plate. Carlile, who had a Calvinisticobjection to idolatry, took the liberty of detaining part of thesetreasures. From one boat he took a massive silver cross belonging to theHigh Church at Vigo; from another an image of Our Lady, which thesailors relieved of her clothes and were said, when she was stripped, tohave treated with some indignity. Carlile's report being satisfactory, the whole fleet was brought the next day up the harbour and moored abovethe town. The news had by this time spread into the country. TheGovernor of Galicia came down with all the force which he could collectin a hurry. Perhaps he was in time to save Vigo itself. Perhaps Drake, having other aims in view, did not care to be detained over a smallerobject. The Governor, at any rate, saw that the English were too strongfor him to meddle with. The best that he could look for was to persuadethem to go away on the easiest terms. Drake and he met in boats for aparley. Drake wanted water and fresh provisions. Drake was to be allowedto furnish himself undisturbed. He had secured what he most wanted. Hehad shown the King of Spain that he was not invulnerable in his ownhome dominion, and he sailed away unmolested. Madrid was inconsternation. That the English could dare insult the first prince inEurope on the sacred soil of the Peninsula itself seemed like a dream. The Council of State sat for three days considering the meaning of it. Drake's name was already familiar in Spanish ears. It was notconceivable that he had come only to inquire after the arrested shipsand seamen. But what could the English Queen be about? Did she not knowthat she existed only by the forbearance of Philip? Did she know theKing of Spain's force? Did not she and her people quake? Little England, it was said by some of these councillors, was to be swallowed at amouthful by the King of half the world. The old Admiral Santa Cruz wasless confident about the swallowing. He observed that England had manyteeth, and that instead of boasting of Spanish greatness it would bebetter to provide against what she might do with them. Till now thecorsairs had appeared only in twos and threes. With such a fleet behindhim Drake might go where he pleased. He might be going to the SouthSeas again. He might take Madeira if he liked, or the Canary Islands. Santa Cruz himself thought he would make for the West Indies and Panama, and advised the sending out there instantly every available ship thatthey had. The gold fleet was Drake's real object. He had information that it wouldbe on its way to Spain by the Cape de Verde Islands, and he had learntthe time when it was to be expected. From Vigo he sailed for theCanaries, looked in at Palma, with 'intention to have taken our pleasurethere, ' but found the landing dangerous and the town itself not worththe risk. He ran on to the Cape de Verde Islands. He had measured histime too narrowly. The gold fleet had arrived and had gone. He hadmissed it by twelve hours, 'the reason, ' as he said with a sigh, 'bestknown to God. ' The chance of prize-money was lost, but the politicalpurpose of the expedition could still be completed. The Cape de VerdeIslands could not sail away, and a beginning could be made with SantIago. Sant Iago was a thriving, well-populated town, and down in Drake'sbook as specially needing notice, some Plymouth sailors having beenrecently murdered there. Christopher Carlile, always handy andtrustworthy, was put on shore with a thousand men to attack the place onthe undefended side. The Spanish commander, the bishop, and most of thepeople fled, as at Vigo, into the mountains with their plate and money. Carlile entered without opposition, and flew St. George's Cross from thecastle as a signal to the fleet. Drake came in, landed the rest of hisforce, and took possession. It happened to be the 17th of November--theanniversary of the Queen's accession--and ships and batteries, dressedout with English flags, celebrated the occasion with salvoes of cannon. Houses and magazines were then searched and plundered. Wine was found inlarge quantities, rich merchandise for the Indian trade, and othervaluables. Of gold and silver nothing--it had all been removed. Drakewaited for a fortnight, hoping that the Spaniards would treat for theransom of the city. When they made no sign, he marched twelve milesinland to a village where the Governor and the bishop were said to havetaken refuge. But the village was found deserted. The Spaniards hadgone to the mountains, where it was useless to follow them, and were tooproud to bargain with a pirate chief. Sant Iago was a beautifully builtcity, and Drake would perhaps have spared it; but a ship-boy who hadstrayed was found murdered and barbarously mutilated. The order wasgiven to burn. Houses, magazines, churches, public buildings were turnedto ashes, and the work being finished Drake went on, as Santa Cruzexpected, for the Spanish West Indies. The Spaniards were magnificent inall that they did and touched. They built their cities in their newpossessions on the most splendid models of the Old World. St. Domingoand Carthagena had their castles and cathedrals, palaces, squares, andstreets, grand and solid as those at Cadiz and Seville, and raised asenduring monuments of the power and greatness of the Castilian monarchs. To these Drake meant to pay a visit. Beyond them was the Isthmus, wherehe had made his first fame and fortune, with Panama behind, the depôt ofthe Indian treasure. So far all had gone well with him. He had takenwhat he wanted out of Vigo; he had destroyed Sant Iago and had not losta man. Unfortunately he had now a worse enemy to deal with than Spanishgalleons or Spanish garrisons. He was in the heat of the tropics. Yellowfever broke out and spread through the fleet. Of those who caught theinfection few recovered, or recovered only to be the wrecks ofthemselves. It was swift in its work. In a few days more than twohundred had died. But the north-east trade blew merrily. The fleet spedon before it. In eighteen days they were in the roads at Dominica, theisland of brooks and rivers and fruit. Limes and lemons and oranges werenot as yet. But there were leaves and roots of the natural growth, knownto the Caribs as antidotes to the fever, and the Caribs, when theylearnt that the English were the Spaniards' enemies, brought them thisprecious remedy and taught them the use of it. The ships were washed andventilated, and the water casks refilled. The infection seemed to havegone as suddenly as it appeared, and again all was well. Christmas was kept at St. Kitts, which was then uninhabited. A councilof war was held to consider what should be done next. St. Domingo laynearest to them. It was the finest of all the Spanish colonial cities. It was the capital of the West Indian Government, the great centre ofWest Indian commerce. In the cathedral, before the high altar, layColumbus and his brother Diego. In natural wealth no island in the worldoutrivals Espinola, where the city stood. A vast population hadcollected there, far away from harm, protected, as they supposed, by themajesty of the mother country, the native inhabitants almostexterminated, themselves undreaming that any enemy could approach themfrom the ocean, and therefore negligent of defence and enjoyingthemselves in easy security. Drake was to give them a new experience and a lesson for the future. Ontheir way across from St. Kitts the adventurers overhauled a smallvessel bound to the same port as they were. From the crew of this vesselthey learnt that the harbour at St. Domingo was formed, like so manyothers in the West Indies, by a long sandspit, acting as a naturalbreakwater. The entrance was a narrow inlet at the extremity of thespit, and batteries had been mounted there to cover it. To land on theouter side of the sandbank was made impossible by the surf. There wasone sheltered point only where boats could go on shore, but this was tenmiles distant from the town. Ten miles was but a morning's march. Drake went in himself in a pinnace, surveyed the landing-place, and satisfied himself of its safety. Theplan of attack at Sant Iago was to be exactly repeated. On New Year'sEve Christopher Carlile was again landed with half the force in thefleet. Drake remained with the rest, and prepared to force the entranceof the harbour if Carlile succeeded. Their coming had been seen from thecity. The alarm had been given, and the women and children, the money inthe treasury, the consecrated plate, movable property of all kinds, weresent off inland as a precaution. Of regular troops there seem to havebeen none, but in so populous a city there was no difficulty incollecting a respectable force to defend it. The hidalgos formed a bodyof cavalry. The people generally were unused to arms, but they wereSpaniards and brave men, and did not mean to leave their homes withouta fight for it. Carlile lay still for the night. He marched at eight inthe morning on New Year's Day, advanced leisurely, and at noon foundhimself in front of the wall. So far he had met no resistance, but aconsiderable body of horse--gentlemen and their servantschiefly--charged down on him out of the bush and out of the town. Heformed into a square to receive them. They came on gallantly, but werereceived with pike and shot, and after a few attempts gave up andretired. Two gates were in front of Carlile, with a road to each leadingthrough a jungle. At each gate were cannon, and the jungle was linedwith musketeers. He divided his men and attacked both together. Oneparty he led in person. The cannon opened on him, and an Englishman nextto him was killed. He dashed on, leaving the Spaniards no time toreload, carried the gate at a rush, and cut his way through the streetsto the great square. The second division had been equally successful, and St. Domingo was theirs except the castle, which was still untaken. Carlile's numbers were too small to occupy a large city. He threw upbarricades and fortified himself in the square for the night. Drakebrought the fleet in at daybreak, and landed guns, when the castlesurrendered. A messenger--a negro boy--was sent to the Governor to learnthe terms which he was prepared to offer to save the city from pillage. The Spanish officers were smarting with the disgrace. One of them struckthe lad through the body with a lance. He ran back bleeding to theEnglish lines and died at Drake's feet. Sir Francis was a dangerous manto provoke. Such doings had to be promptly stopped. In the part of thetown which he occupied was a monastery with a number of friars in it. The religious orders, he well knew, were the chief instigators of thepolicy which was maddening the world. He sent two of these friars withthe provost-marshal to the spot where the boy had been struck, promptlyhanged them, and then despatched another to tell the Governor that hewould hang two more every day at the same place till the officer waspunished. The Spaniards had long learnt to call Drake the Draque, theserpent, the devil. They feared that the devil might be a man of hisword. The offender was surrendered. It was not enough. Drake insistedthat they should do justice on him themselves. The Governor found itprudent to comply, and the too hasty officer was executed. The next point was the ransom of the city. The Spaniards stillhesitating, 200 men were told off each morning to burn, while the restsearched the private houses, and palaces, and magazines. GovernmentHouse was the grandest building in the New World. It was approached bybroad flights of marble stairs. Great doors opened on a spacious galleryleading into a great hall, and above the portico hung the arms ofSpain--a globe representing the world, a horse leaping upon it, and inthe horse's mouth a scroll with the haughty motto, 'Non sufficit orbis. 'Palace and scutcheon were levelled into dust by axe and gunpowder, andeach day for a month the destruction went on, Drake's demands steadilygrowing and the unhappy Governor vainly pleading impossibility. Vandalism, atrocity unheard of among civilised nations, dishonour to theProtestant cause, Drake deserving to swing at his own yardarm; soindignant Liberalism shrieked, and has not ceased shrieking. Let it beremembered that for fifteen years the Spaniards had been burning Englishseamen whenever they could catch them, plotting to kill the Queen andreduce England itself into vassaldom to the Pope. The English nation, the loyal part of it, were replying to the wild pretension by the handsof their own admiral. If Philip chose to countenance assassins, if theHoly Office chose to burn English sailors as heretics, those hereticshad a right to make Spain understand that such a game was dangerous, that, as Santa Cruz had said, they had teeth and could use them. It was found in the end that the Governor's plea of impossibility wasmore real than was at first believed. The gold and silver had beenreally carried off. All else that was valuable had been burnt or takenby the English. The destruction of a city so solidly built was tediousand difficult. Nearly half of it was blown up. The cathedral was spared, perhaps as the resting-place of Columbus. Drake had other work beforehim. After staying a month in undisturbed occupation he agreed toaccept 25, 000 ducats as a ransom for what was left and sailed away. It was now February. The hot season was coming on, when the climatewould be dangerous. There was still much to do and the time was runningshort. Panama had to be left for another opportunity. Drake's object wasto deal blows which would shake the faith of Europe in the Spanishpower. Carthagena stood next to St. Domingo among the Spanish WestIndian fortresses. The situation was strong. In 1740 Carthagena was ableto beat off Vernon and a great English fleet. But Drake's crews were inhigh health and spirits, and he determined to see what he could do withit. Surprise was no longer to be hoped for. The alarm had spread overthe Caribbean Sea. But in their present humour they were ready to goanywhere and dare anything, and to Carthagena they went. Drake's name carried terror before it. Every non-combatant--old men, women and children--had been cleared out before he arrived, but the restprepared for a smart defence. The harbour at Carthagena was formed, asat St. Domingo and Port Royal, by a sandspit. The spit was long, narrow, in places not fifty yards wide, and covered with prickly bush, and along this, as before, it was necessary to advance to reach thecity. A trench had been cut across at the neck, and a stiff barricadebuilt and armed with heavy guns; behind this were several hundredmusketeers, while the bush was full of Indians with poisoned arrows. Pointed stakes--poisoned also--had been driven into the ground along theapproaches, on which to step was death. Two large galleys, full of men, patrolled inside the bank on the harbour edge, and with thesepreparations the inhabitants hoped to keep the dreadful Drake fromreaching them. Carlile, as before, was to do the land fighting. He wasset on shore three miles down the spit. The tide is slight in thoseseas, but he waited till it was out, and advanced along the outer shoreat low-water mark. He was thus covered by the bank from the harbourgalleys, and their shots passed over him. Two squadrons of horse cameout, but could do nothing to him on the broken ground. The Englishpushed on to the wall, scarcely losing a man. They charged, scaled theparapets, and drove the Spanish infantry back at point of pike. Carlilekilled their commander with his own hand. The rest fled after a shortstruggle, and Drake was master of Carthagena. Here for six weeks heremained. The Spaniards withdrew out of the city, and there were againparleys over the ransom money. Courtesies were exchanged among theofficers. Drake entertained the Governor and his suite. The Governorreturned the hospitality and received Drake and the English captains. Drake demanded 100, 000 ducats. The Spaniards offered 30, 000, andprotested that they could pay no more. The dispute might have lastedlonger, but it was cut short by the re-appearance of the yellow fever inthe fleet, this time in a deadlier form. The Spanish offer was accepted, and Carthagena was left to its owners. It was time to be off, for theheat was telling, and the men began to drop with appalling rapidity. Nombre de Dios and Panama were near and under their lee, and Drake threwlonging eyes on what, if all else had been well, might have proved aneasy capture. But on a review of their strength, it was found thatthere were but 700 fit for duty who could be spared for the service, anda council of war decided that a march across the Isthmus with so small aforce was too dangerous to be ventured. Enough had been done for glory, enough for the political impression to be made in Europe. The King ofSpain had been dared in his own dominions. Three fine Spanish cities hadbeen captured by storm and held to ransom. In other aspects the successhad fallen short of expectation. This time they had taken no _Cacafuego_with a year's produce of the mines in her hold. The plate and coin hadbeen carried off, and the spoils had been in a form not easily turned tovalue. The expedition had been fitted out by private persons to pay itsown cost. The result in money was but 60, 000_l. _ Forty thousand had tobe set aside for expenses. There remained but 20, 000_l. _ to be sharedamong the ships' companies. Men and officers had entered, high and low, without wages, on the chance of what they might get. The officers andowners gave a significant demonstration of the splendid spirit in whichthey had gone about their work. They decided to relinquish their ownclaims on the ransom paid for Carthagena, and bestow the same on thecommon seamen, 'wishing it were so much again as would be a sufficientreward for their painful endeavour. ' Thus all were well satisfied, conscious all that they had done theirduty to their Queen and country. The adventurers' fleet turned homewardsat the beginning of April. What men could do they had achieved. Theycould not fight against the pestilence of the tropics. For many days theyellow fever did its deadly work among them, and only slowly abated. They were delayed by calms and unfavourable winds. Their water ranshort. They had to land again at Cape Antonio, the western point ofCuba, and sink wells to supply themselves. Drake himself, it wasobserved, worked with spade and bucket, like the meanest person in thewhole company, always foremost where toil was to be endured or honourwon, the wisest in the devising of enterprises, the calmest in danger, the first to set an example of energy in difficulties, and, above all, the firmest in maintaining order and discipline. The fever slackened asthey reached the cooler latitudes. They worked their way up the BahamaChannel, going north to avoid the trades. The French Protestants hadbeen attempting to colonise in Florida. The Spaniards had built afortress on the coast, to observe their settlements and, as occasionoffered, cut Huguenot throats. As he passed by Drake paid this fortressa visit and wiped it out. Farther north again he was in time to save theremnant of an English settlement, rashly planted there by anotherbrilliant servant of Queen Elizabeth. Of all the famous Elizabethans Sir Walter Raleigh is the mostromantically interesting. His splendid and varied gifts, his chequeredfortunes, and his cruel end, will embalm his memory in English history. But Raleigh's great accomplishments promised more than they performed. His hand was in everything, but of work successfully completed he hadless to show than others far his inferiors, to whom fortune had offeredfewer opportunities. He was engaged in a hundred schemes at once, and inevery one of them there was always some taint of self, some personalambition or private object to be gained. His life is a record ofundertakings begun in enthusiasm, maintained imperfectly, and failuresin the end. Among his other adventures he had sent a colony to Virginia. He had imagined, or had been led by others to believe, that there was anIndian Court there brilliant as Montezuma's, an enlightened nationcrying to be admitted within the charmed circle of Gloriana's subjects. His princes and princesses proved things of air, or mere Indian savages;and of Raleigh there remains nothing in Virginia save the name of thecity which is called after him. The starving survivors of his settlementon the Roanoke River were taken on board by Drake's returning squadronand carried home to England, where they all arrived safely, to the gloryof God, as our pious ancestors said and meant in unconventionalsincerity, on the 28th of July, 1586. The expedition, as I have said, barely paid its cost. In the shape ofwages the officers received nothing, and the crews but a few pounds aman; but there was, perhaps, not one of them who was not better pleasedwith the honour which he had brought back than if he had come homeloaded with doubloons. Startled Catholic Europe meanwhile rubbed its eyes and began to see thatthe 'enterprise of England, ' as the intended invasion was called, mightnot be the easy thing which the seminary priests described it. Theseminary priests had said that so far as England was Protestant at allit was Protestant only by the accident of its Government, that theimmense majority of the people were Catholic at heart and were thirstingfor a return to the fold, that on the first appearance of a Spanish armyof deliverance the whole edifice which Elizabeth had raised wouldcrumble to the ground. I suppose it is true that if the world had thenbeen advanced to its present point of progress, if there had been thenrecognised a Divine right to rule in the numerical majority, evenwithout a Spanish army the seminary priests would have had their way. Elizabeth's Parliaments were controlled by the municipalities of thetowns, and the towns were Protestant. A Parliament chosen by universalsuffrage and electoral districts would have sent Cecil and Walsinghaminto private life or to the scaffold, replaced the Mass in the churches, and reduced the Queen, if she had been left on the throne, into thehumble servant of the Pope and Philip. It would not perhaps have lasted, but that, so far as I can judge, would have been the immediate result, and instead of a Reformation we should have had the light come in theshape of lightning. But I have often asked my Radical friends what is tobe done if out of every hundred enlightened voters two-thirds will givetheir votes one way, but are afraid to fight, and the remaining thirdwill not only vote but will fight too if the poll goes against them?Which has then the right to rule? I can tell them which will rule. Thebrave and resolute minority will rule. Plato says that if one man wasstronger than all the rest of mankind he would rule all the rest ofmankind. It must be so, because there is no appeal. The majority must beprepared to assert their Divine right with their right hands, or it willgo the way that other Divine rights have gone before. I will not believethe world to have been so ill-constructed that there are rights whichcannot be enforced. It appears to me that the true right to rule in anynation lies with those who are best and bravest, whether their numbersare large or small; and three centuries ago the best and bravest part ofthis English nation had determined, though they were but a third of it, that Pope and Spaniard should be no masters of theirs. Imagination goesfor much in such excited times. To the imagination of Europe in thesixteenth century the power of Spain appeared irresistible if she choseto exert it. Heretic Dutchmen might rebel in a remote province, Englishpirates might take liberties with Spanish traders, but the Prince ofParma was making the Dutchmen feel their master at last. The pirateswere but so many wasps, with venom in their stings, but powerless toaffect the general tendencies of things. Except to the shrewder eyes ofsuch men as Santa Cruz the strength of the English at sea had been leftout of count in the calculations of the resources of Elizabeth'sGovernment. Suddenly a fleet of these same pirates, sent out, unassistedby their sovereign, by the private impulse of a few individuals, hadinsulted the sacred soil of Spain herself, sailed into Vigo, pillagedthe churches, taken anything that they required, and had gone awayunmolested. They had attacked, stormed, burnt, or held to ransom threeof Spain's proudest colonial cities, and had come home unfought with. The Catholic conspirators had to recognise that they had a worse enemyto deal with than Puritan controversialists or spoilt Court favourites. The Protestant English mariners stood between them and their prey, andhad to be encountered on an element which did not bow to popes orprinces, before Mary Stuart was to wear Elizabeth's crown or CardinalAllen be enthroned at Canterbury. It was a revelation to all parties. Elizabeth herself had not expected--perhaps had not wished--so signal asuccess. War was now looked on as inevitable. The Spanish admiralsrepresented that the national honour required revenge for an injury soopen and so insolent. The Pope, who had been long goading the lethargicPhilip into action, believed that now at last he would be compelled tomove; and even Philip himself, enduring as he was, had been roused toperceive that intrigues and conspiracies would serve his turn nolonger. He must put out his strength in earnest, or his own Spaniardsmight turn upon him as unworthy of the crown of Isabella. Veryreluctantly he allowed the truth to be brought home to him. He had neverliked the thought of invading England. If he conquered it, he would notbe allowed to keep it. Mary Stuart would have to be made queen, and MaryStuart was part French, and might be wholly French. The burden of thework would be thrown entirely on his shoulders, and his own reward wasto be the Church's blessing and the approval of his ownconscience--nothing else, so far as he could see. The Pope would recoverhis annates, his Peter's pence, and his indulgence market. If the thing was to be done, the Pope, it was clear, ought to pay partof the cost, and this was what the Pope did not intend to do if he couldhelp it. The Pope was flattering himself that Drake's performance wouldcompel Spain to go to war with England whether he assisted or did not. In this matter Philip attempted to undeceive his Holiness. He instructedOlivarez, his ambassador at Rome, to tell the Pope that nothing hadbeen yet done to him by the English which he could not overlook, andunless the Pope would come down with a handsome contribution peace hewould make. The Pope stormed and raged; he said he doubted whetherPhilip was a true son of the Church at all; he flung plates and dishesat the servants' heads at dinner. He said that if he gave Philip moneyPhilip would put it in his pocket and laugh at him. Not one maravediwould he give till a Spanish army was actually landed on English shores, and from this resolution he was not to be moved. To Philip it was painfully certain that if he invaded and conqueredEngland the English Catholics would insist that he must make Mary Stuartqueen. He did not like Mary Stuart. He disapproved of her character. Hedistrusted her promises. Spite of Jesuits and seminary priests, hebelieved that she was still a Frenchwoman at heart, and a bad womanbesides. Yet something he must do for the outraged honour of Castile. Heconcluded, in his slow way, that he would collect a fleet, the largestand best-appointed that had ever floated on the sea. He would send orlead it in person to the English Channel. He would command the situationwith an overwhelming force; and then would choose some course whichwould be more convenient to himself than to his Holiness at Rome. On thewhole he was inclined to let Elizabeth continue queen, and forget andforgive if she would put away her Walsinghams and her Drakes, and wouldpromise to be good for the future. If she remained obstinate his greatfleet would cover the passage of the Prince of Parma's army, and hewould then dictate his own terms in London. LECTURE VII ATTACK ON CADIZ I recollect being told when a boy, on sending in a bad translation ofHorace, that I ought to remember that Horace was a man of intelligenceand did not write nonsense. The same caution should be borne in mind bystudents of history. They see certain things done by kings and statesmenwhich they believe they can interpret by assuming such persons to havebeen knaves or idiots. Once an explanation given from the baser side ofhuman nature, they assume that it is necessarily the right one, and theymake their Horace into a fool without a misgiving that the folly may lieelsewhere. Remarkable men and women have usually had some rationalmotive for their conduct, which may be discovered, if we look for itwith our eyes open. Nobody has suffered more from bad translators than Elizabeth. Thecircumstances of Queen Elizabeth's birth, the traditions of her father, the interests of England, and the sentiments of the party who hadsustained her claim to the succession, obliged her on coming to thethrone to renew the separation from the Papacy. The Church of Englandwas re-established on an Anglo-Catholic basis, which the rival factionsmight interpret each in their own way. To allow more than one form ofpublic worship would have led in the heated temper of men's minds toquarrels and civil wars. But conscience might be left free under outwardconformity, and those whom the Liturgy did not suit might use their ownritual in their private houses. Elizabeth and her wise advisers believedthat if her subjects could be kept from fighting and killing oneanother, and were not exasperated by outward displays of difference, they would learn that righteousness of life was more important thanorthodoxy, and to estimate at their real value the rival dogmas oftheology. Had time permitted the experiment to have a fair trial, itwould perhaps have succeeded, but, unhappily for the Queen and forEngland, the fire of controversy was still too hot under the ashes. Protestants and Catholics had been taught to look on one another asenemies of God, and were still reluctant to take each other's hands atthe bidding of an Act of Parliament. The more moderate of the Catholiclaity saw no difference so great between the English service and theMass as to force them to desert the churches where their fathers hadworshipped for centuries. They petitioned the Council of Trent forpermission to use the English Prayer Book; and had the Councilconsented, religious dissension would have dissolved at last into aninnocent difference of opinion. But the Council and the Pope haddetermined that there should be no compromise with heresy, and therequest was refused, though it was backed by Philip's ambassador inLondon. The action of the Papacy obliged the Queen to leave theAdministration in the hands of Protestants, on whose loyalty she couldrely. As the struggle with the Reformation spread and deepened she wascompelled to assist indirectly the Protestant party in France andScotland. But she still adhered to her own principle; she refused toput herself at the head of a Protestant League. She took no step withoutkeeping open a line of retreat on a contrary policy. She had Catholicsin her Privy Council who were pensioners of Spain. She filled herhousehold with Catholics, and many a time drove Burghley distracted bylistening to them at critical moments. Her constant effort was to disarmthe antagonism of the adherents of the old belief, by admitting them toher confidence, and showing them that one part of her subjects was asdear to her as another. For ten years she went on struggling. For ten years she was proudly ableto say that during all that time no Catholic had suffered for his beliefeither in purse or person. The advanced section of the Catholic clergywas in despair. They saw the consciences of their flocks benumbed andtheir faith growing lukewarm. They stirred up the rebellion of theNorth. They persuaded Pius V. To force them to a sense of their dutiesby declaring Elizabeth excommunicated. They sent their missionariesthrough the English counties to recover sheep that were straying, andteach the sin of submission to a sovereign whom the Pope had deposed. Then had followed the Ridolfi plot, deliberately encouraged by the Popeand Spain, which had compelled the Government to tighten the reins. Oneconspiracy had followed another. Any means were held legitimate to ridthe world of an enemy of God. The Queen's character was murdered by thefoulest slanders, and a hundred daggers were sharpened to murder herperson. The King of Spain had not advised the excommunication, becausehe knew that he would be expected to execute it, and he had other thingsto do. When called on to act, he and Alva said that if the EnglishCatholics wanted Spanish help they must do something for themselves. Todo the priests justice, they were brave enough. What they did, and howfar they had succeeded in making the country disaffected, Father Parsonshas told you in the paper which I read to you in a former lecture. Elizabeth refused to take care of herself. She would show no distrust. She would not dismiss the Catholic ladies and gentlemen from thehousehold. She would allow no penal laws to be enforced againstCatholics as such. Repeated conspiracies to assassinate her weredetected and exposed, but she would take no warning. She would have nobodyguard. The utmost that she would do was to allow the Jesuits andseminary priests, who, by Parsons's own acknowledgment, were sowingrebellion, to be banished the realm, and if they persisted in remainingafterwards, to be treated as traitors. When executions are treated asmartyrdoms, candidates will never be wanting for the crown of glory, andthe flame only burnt the hotter. Tyburn and the quartering knife was ahorrid business, and Elizabeth sickened over it. She hated the severitywhich she was compelled to exercise. Her name was defiled with thegrossest calumnies. She knew that she might be murdered any day. Forherself she was proudly indifferent; but her death would and must befollowed by a furious civil war. She told the Privy Council one dayafter some stormy scene, that she would come back afterwards and amuseherself with seeing the Queen of Scots making their heads fly. Philip was weary of it too. He had enough to do in ruling his owndominions without quarrelling for ever with his sister-in-law. He hadseen that she had subjects, few or many, who, if he struck, would strikeback again. English money and English volunteers were keeping alive thewar in the Netherlands. English privateers had plundered his gold ships, destroyed his commerce, and burnt his West Indian cities--all this inthe interests of the Pope, who gave him fine words in plenty, but who, when called on for money to help in the English conquest, only flungabout his dinner-plates. The Duke of Alva, while he was alive, and thePrince of Parma, who commanded in the Netherlands in Alva's place, advised peace if peace could be had on reasonable terms. If Elizabethwould consent to withdraw her help from the Netherlands, and would allowthe English Catholics the tacit toleration with which her reign hadbegun, they were of opinion, and Philip was of opinion too, that itwould be better to forgive Drake and St. Domingo, abandon Mary Stuartand the seminary priests, and meddle no more with English internalpolitics. Tired with a condition which was neither war nor peace, tired withhanging traitors and the endless problem of her sister of Scotland, Elizabeth saw no reason for refusing offers which would leave her inpeace for the rest of her own life. Philip, it was said, would restorethe Mass in the churches in Holland. She might stipulate for suchliberty of conscience to the Holland Protestants as she was herselfwilling to allow the English Catholics. She saw no reason why she shouldinsist on a liberty of public worship which she had herself forbidden athome. She did not see why the Hollanders should be so precise abouthearing Mass. She said she would rather hear a thousand Masses herselfthan have on her conscience the crimes committed for the Mass or againstit. She would not have her realm in perpetual torment for Mr. Cecil'sbrothers in Christ. This was Elizabeth's personal feeling. It could not be openly avowed. The States might then surrender to Philip in despair, and obtain bettersecurities for their political liberties than she was ready to ask forthem. They might then join the Spaniards and become her mortal enemies. But she had a high opinion of her own statecraft. Her Catholic friendsassured her that, once at peace with Philip, she would be safe from allthe world. At this moment accident revealed suddenly another chasm whichwas opening unsuspected at her feet. Both Philip and she were really wishing for peace. A treaty of peacebetween the Catholic King and an excommunicated princess would end thedream of a Catholic revolution in England. If the English peers andgentry saw the censures of the Church set aside so lightly by the mostorthodox prince in Europe, Parsons and his friends would preach in vainto them the obligation of rebellion. If this deadly negotiation was tobe broken off, a blow must be struck, and struck at once. There was nota moment to be lost. The enchanted prisoner at Tutbury was the sleeping and waking dream ofCatholic chivalry. The brave knight who would slay the dragon, deliverMary Stuart, and place her on the usurper's throne, would outdo Orlandoor St. George, and be sung of for ever as the noblest hero who had everwielded brand or spear. Many a young British heart had thrilled withhope that for him the enterprise was reserved. One of these was acertain Anthony Babington, a gentleman of some fortune in Derbyshire. Aseminary priest named Ballard, excited, like the rest, by the need ofaction, and anxious to prevent the peace, fell in with this Babington, and thought he had found the man for his work. Elizabeth dead and MaryStuart free, there would be no more talk of peace. A plot was easilyformed. Half a dozen gentlemen, five of them belonging to or connectedwith Elizabeth's own household, were to shoot or stab her and escape inthe confusion; Babington was to make a dash on Mary Stuart'sprison-house and carry her off to some safe place; while Ballardundertook to raise the Catholic peers and have her proclaimed queen. Elizabeth once removed, it was supposed that they would not hesitate. Parma would bring over the Spanish army from Dunkirk. The Protestantswould be paralysed. All would be begun and ended in a few weeks or evendays. The Catholic religion would be re-established and the hated heresywould be trampled out for ever. Mary Stuart had been consulted and hadenthusiastically agreed. This interesting lady had been lately profuse in her protestations of adesire for reconciliation with her dearest sister. Elizabeth had almostbelieved her sincere. Sick of the endless trouble with Mary Stuart andher pretensions and schemings, she had intended that the Scotch queenshould be included in the treaty with Philip, with an impliedrecognition of her right to succeed to the English throne afterElizabeth's death. It had been necessary, however, to ascertain in someway whether her protestations were sincere. A secret watch had been keptover her correspondence, and Babington's letters and her own answers hadfallen into Walsingham's hands. There it all was in her own cipher, thekey to which had been betrayed by the carelessness of a confederate. Thesix gentlemen who were to have rewarded Elizabeth's confidence bykilling her were easily recognised. They were seized, with Babington andBallard, when they imagined themselves on the eve of their triumph. Babington flinched and confessed, and they were all hanged. Mary Stuartherself had outworn compassion. Twice already on the discovery of herearlier plots the House of Commons had petitioned for her execution. Forthis last piece of treachery she was tried at Fotheringay before acommission of Peers and Privy Councillors. She denied her letters, buther complicity was proved beyond a doubt. Parliament was called, and athird time insisted that the long drama should now be ended and loyalEngland be allowed to breathe in peace. Elizabeth signed the warrant. France, Spain, any other power in the world would have long since madean end of a competitor so desperate and so incurable. Torn by manyfeelings--natural pity, dread of the world's opinion--Elizabeth pausedbefore ordering the warrant to be executed. If nothing had been at stakebut her own life, she would have left the lady to weave fresh plots andat last, perhaps, to succeed. If the nation's safety required an end tobe made with her, she felt it hard that the duty should be thrown onherself. Where were all those eager champions who had signed theAssociation Bond, who had talked so loudly? Could none of them be foundto recollect their oaths and take the law into their own hands? Her Council, Burghley, and the rest, knowing her disposition and feelingthat it was life or death to English liberty, took the responsibility onthemselves. They sent the warrant down to Fotheringay at their own risk, leaving their mistress to deny, if she pleased, that she had meant it tobe executed; and the wild career of Mary Stuart ended on the scaffold. They knew what they were immediately doing. They knew that if treasonhad a meaning Mary Stuart had brought her fate upon herself. They didnot, perhaps, realise the full effects that were to follow, or that withMary Stuart had vanished the last serious danger of a Catholicinsurrection in England; or perhaps they did realise it, and this waswhat decided them to act. I cannot dwell on this here. As long as there was a Catholic princess ofEnglish blood to succeed to the throne, the allegiance of the Catholicsto Elizabeth had been easily shaken. If she was spared now, every one ofthem would look on her as their future sovereign. To overthrowElizabeth might mean the loss of national independence. The Queen ofScots gone, they were paralysed by divided counsels, and love of countryproved stronger than their creed. What concerns us specially at present is the effect on the King ofSpain. The reluctance of Philip to undertake the English enterprise (the'empresa, ' as it was generally called) had arisen from a fear that whenit was accomplished he would lose the fruit of his labours. He couldnever assure himself that if he placed Mary Stuart on the throne shewould not become eventually French. He now learnt that she hadbequeathed to himself her claims on the English succession. He had oncebeen titular King of England. He had pretensions of his own, as in thedescent from Edward III. The Jesuits, the Catholic enthusiaststhroughout Europe, assured him that if he would now take up the cause inearnest, he might make England a province of Spain. There were stilldifficulties. He might hope that the English Catholic laity would accepthim, but he could not be sure of it. He could not be sure that he wouldhave the support of the Pope. He continued, as the Condé de Feria saidscornfully of him, 'meando en vado, ' a phrase which I cannot translate;it meant hesitating when he ought to act. But he saw, or thought he saw, that he could now take a stronger attitude towards Elizabeth as aclaimant to her throne. If the treaty of peace was to go forward, hecould raise his terms. He could insist on the restoration of theCatholic religion in England. The States of the Low Countries had madeover five of their strongest towns to Elizabeth as the price of herassistance. He could insist on her restoring them, not to the States, but to himself. Could she be brought to consent to such an act ofperfidy, Parma and he both felt that the power would then be gone fromher, as effectually as Samson's when his locks were clipped by theharlot, and they could leave her then, if it suited them, on a thronewhich would have become a pillory--for the finger of scorn to point at. With such a view before him it was more than ever necessary for Philipto hurry forward the preparations which he had already commenced. Themore formidable he could make himself, the better able he would be tofrighten Elizabeth into submission. Every dockyard in Spain was set to work, building galleons andcollecting stores. Santa Cruz would command. Philip was himself moreresolved than ever to accompany the expedition in person and dictatefrom the English Channel the conditions of the pacification of Europe. Secrecy was no longer attempted--indeed, was no longer possible. AllLatin Christendom was palpitating with expectation. At Lisbon, at Cadiz, at Barcelona, at Naples, the shipwrights were busy night and day. Thesea was covered with vessels freighted with arms and provisionsstreaming to the mouth of the Tagus. Catholic volunteers from allnations flocked into the Peninsula, to take a share in the mightymovement which was to decide the fate of the world, and bishops, priests, and monks were set praying through the whole Latin Communionthat Heaven would protect its own cause. Meantime the negotiations for peace continued, and Elizabeth, strangeto say, persisted in listening. She would not see what was plain to allthe world besides. The execution of the Queen of Scots lay on her spiritand threw her back into the obstinate humour which had made Walsinghamso often despair of her safety. For two months after that scene atFotheringay she had refused to see Burghley, and would consult no onebut Sir James Crofts and her Spanish-tempered ladies. She knew thatSpain now intended that she should betray the towns in the LowCountries, yet she was blind to the infamy which it would bring uponher. She left her troops there without their wages to shiver intomutiny. She named commissioners, with Sir James Crofts at their head, togo to Ostend and treat with Parma, and if she had not resolved on an actof treachery she at least played with the temptation, and persuadedherself that if she chose to make over the towns to Philip, she would beonly restoring them to their lawful owner. Burghley and Walsingham, you can see from their letters, believed nowthat Elizabeth had ruined herself at last. Happily her moods werevariable as the weather. She was forced to see the condition to whichshe had reduced her affairs in the Low Countries by the appearance of anumber of starving wretches who had deserted from the garrisons thereand had come across to clamour for their pay at her own palace gates. Ifshe had no troops in the field but a mutinous and starving rabble, shemight get no terms at all. It might be well to show Philip that on oneelement at least she could still be dangerous. She had lost nothing bythe bold actions of Drake and the privateers. With half a heart sheallowed Drake to fit them out again, take the _Buonaventura_, a ship ofher own, to carry his flag, and go down to the coast of Spain and seewhat was going on. He was not to do too much. She sent a vice-admiralwith him, in the _Lion_, to be a check on over-audacity. Drake knew howto deal with embarrassing vice-admirals. His own adventurers would sail, if he ordered, to the Mountains of the Moon, and be quite certain thatit was the right place to go to. Once under way and on the blue water hewould go his own course and run his own risks. Cadiz Harbour wasthronged with transports, provision ships, powder vessels--a hundredsail of them--many of a thousand tons and over, loading with stores forthe Armada. There were thirty sail of adventurers, the smartest shipsafloat on the ocean, and sailed by the smartest seamen that ever handledrope or tiller. Something might be done at Cadiz if he did not say toomuch about it. The leave had been given to him to go, but he knew byexperience, and Burghley again warned him, that it might, and probablywould, be revoked if he waited too long. The moment was his own, and heused it. He was but just in time. Before his sails were under thehorizon a courier galloped into Plymouth with orders that under nocondition was he to enter port or haven of the King of Spain, or injureSpanish subjects. What else was he going out for? He had guessed how itwould be. Comedy or earnest he could not tell. If earnest, some suchorder would be sent after him, and he had not an instant to lose. He sailed on the morning of the 12th of April. Off Ushant he fell inwith a north-west gale, and he flew on, spreading every stitch ofcanvas which his spars would bear. In five days he was at Cape St. Vincent. On the 18th he had the white houses of Cadiz right in front ofhim, and could see for himself the forests of masts from the ships andtransports with which the harbour was choked. Here was a chance for apiece of service if there was courage for the venture. He signalled forhis officers to come on board the _Buonaventura_. There before theireyes was, if not the Armada itself, the materials which were to fit theArmada for the seas. Did they dare to go in with him and destroy them?There were batteries at the harbour mouth, but Drake's mariners hadfaced Spanish batteries at St. Domingo and Carthagena and had not foundthem very formidable. Go in? Of course they would. Where Drake wouldlead the corsairs of Plymouth were never afraid to follow. Thevice-admiral pleaded danger to her Majesty's ships. It was not thebusiness of an English fleet to be particular about danger. Straight inthey went with a fair wind and a flood tide, ran past the batteries andunder a storm of shot, to which they did not trouble themselves to waitto reply. The poor vice-admiral followed reluctantly in the _Lion_. Asingle shot hit the _Lion_, and he edged away out of range, anchored, and drifted to sea again with the ebb. But Drake and all the rest dashedon, sank the guardship--a large galleon--and sent flying a fleet ofgalleys which ventured too near them and were never seen again. Further resistance there was none--absolutely none. The crews of thestore ships escaped in their boats to land. The governor of Cadiz, thesame Duke of Medina Sidonia who the next year was to gain a disastrousimmortality, fled 'like a tall gentleman' to raise troops and preventDrake from landing. Drake had no intention of landing. At his extremeleisure he took possession of the Spanish shipping, searched everyvessel, and carried off everything that he could use. He detained asprisoners the few men that he found on board, and then, after doing hiswork deliberately and completely, he set the hulls on fire, cut thecables, and left them to drive on the rising tide under the walls of thetown--a confused mass of blazing ruin. On the 12th of April he hadsailed from Plymouth; on the 19th he entered Cadiz Harbour; on the 1stof May he passed out again without the loss of a boat or a man. He saidin jest that he had singed the King of Spain's beard for him. In soberprose he had done the King of Spain an amount of damage which a millionducats and a year's labour would imperfectly replace. The daringrapidity of the enterprise astonished Spain, and astonished Europe morethan the storm of the West Indian towns. The English had long teeth, asSanta Cruz had told Philip's council, and the teeth would need drawingbefore Mass would be heard again at Westminster. The Spaniards were agallant race, and a dashing exploit, though at their own expense, couldbe admired by the countrymen of Cervantes. 'So praised, ' we read, 'wasDrake for his valour among them, that they said that if he was not aLutheran there would not be the like of him in the world. ' A Court ladywas invited by the King to join a party on a lake near Madrid. The ladyreplied that she dared not trust herself on the water with his Majestylest Sir Francis Drake should have her. Drake might well be praised. But Drake would have been the first todivide the honour with the comrades who were his arm and hand. Greatadmirals and generals do not win their battles single-handed like theheroes of romance. Orders avail only when there are men to execute them. Not a captain, not an officer who served under Drake, ever flinched orblundered. Never was such a school for seamen as that twenty years'privateering war between the servants of the Pope and the West-countryProtestant adventurers. Those too must be remembered who built andrigged the ships in which they sailed and fought their battles. We maydepend upon it that there was no dishonesty in contractors, no scampingof the work in the yards where the Plymouth rovers were fitted out forsea. Their hearts were in it; they were soldiers of a common cause. Three weeks had sufficed for Cadiz. No order for recall had yet arrived. Drake had other plans before him, and the men were in high spirits andready for anything. A fleet of Spanish men-of-war was expected roundfrom the Mediterranean. He proposed to stay for a week or two in theneighbourhood of the Straits, in the hope of falling in with them. Hewanted fresh water, too, and had to find it somewhere. Before leaving Cadiz Roads he had to decide what to do with hisprisoners. Many English were known to be in the hands of the Holy Officeworking in irons as galley slaves. He sent in a pinnace to propose anexchange, and had to wait some days for an answer. At length, after areference to Lisbon, the Spanish authorities replied that they had noEnglish prisoners. If this was true those they had must have died ofbarbarous usage; and after a consultation with his officers Sir Francissent in word that for the future such prisoners as they might take wouldbe sold to the Moors, and the money applied to the redemption of Englishcaptives in other parts of the world. Water was the next point. There were springs at Faro, with a Spanishforce stationed there to guard them. Force or no force, water was to behad. The boats were sent on shore. The boats' crews stormed the fortsand filled the casks. The vice-admiral again lifted up his voice. TheQueen had ordered that there was to be no landing on Spanish soil. AtCadiz the order had been observed. There had been no need to land. Hereat Faro there had been direct defiance of her Majesty's command. Hebecame so loud in his clamours that Drake found it necessary to lock himup in his own cabin, and at length to send him home with his ship tocomplain. For himself, as the expected fleet from the Straits did notappear, and as he had shaken off his troublesome second in command, heproceeded leisurely up the coast, intending to look in at Lisbon and seefor himself how things were going on there. All along as he went he fellin with traders loaded with supplies for the use of the Armada. Allthese he destroyed as he advanced, and at length found himself under thepurple hills of Cintra and looking up into the Tagus. There lay gatheredtogether the strength of the fighting naval force of Spain--fifty greatgalleons, already arrived, the largest war-ships which then floated onthe ocean. Santa Cruz, the best officer in the Spanish navy, was himselfin the town and in command. To venture a repetition of the Cadizexploit in the face of such odds seemed too desperate even for Drake, but it was one of those occasions when the genius of a great commandersees more than ordinary eyes. He calculated, and, as was provedafterwards, calculated rightly, that the galleons would be half manned, or not manned at all, and crowded with landsmen bringing on board thestores. Their sides as they lay would be choked with hulks and lighters. They would be unable to get their anchors up, set their canvas, or stirfrom their moorings. Daring as Drake was known to be, no one wouldexpect him to go with so small a force into the enemy's stronghold, andthere would be no preparations to meet him. He could count upon thetides. The winds at that season of the year were fresh and steady, andcould be counted on also to take him in or out; there was sea room inthe river for such vessels as the adventurers' to manoeuvre and toretreat if overmatched. Rash as such an enterprise might seem to anunprofessional eye, Drake certainly thought of it, perhaps had meant totry it in some form or other and so make an end of the Spanish invasionof England. He could not venture without asking first for his mistress'spermission. He knew her nature. He knew that his services at Cadiz wouldoutweigh his disregard of her orders, and that so far he had nothing tofear; but he knew also that she was still hankering after peace, andthat without her leave he must do nothing to make peace impossible. There is a letter from him to the Queen, written when he was lying offLisbon, very characteristic of the time and the man. Nelson or Lord St. Vincent did not talk much of expecting supernaturalassistance. If they had we should suspect them of using languageconventionally which they would have done better to leave alone. SirFrancis Drake, like his other great contemporaries, believed that he wasengaged in a holy cause, and was not afraid or ashamed to say so. Hisobject was to protest against a recall in the flow of victory. TheSpaniards, he said, were but mortal men. They were enemies of the Truth, upholders of Dagon's image, which had fallen in other days before theArk, and would fall again if boldly defied. So long as he had shipsthat would float, and there was food on board them for the men to eat, he entreated her to let him stay and strike whenever a chance wasoffered him. The continuing to the end yielded the true glory. When menwere serving religion and their country, a merciful God, it was likely, would give them victory, and Satan and his angels should not prevail. All in good time. Another year and Drake would have the chance hewanted. For the moment Satan had prevailed--Satan in the shape ofElizabeth's Catholic advisers. Her answer came. It was warm andgenerous. She did not, could not, blame him for what he had done so far, but she desired him to provoke the King of Spain no further. Thenegotiations for peace had opened, and must not be interfered with. This prohibition from the Queen prevented, perhaps, what would have beenthe most remarkable exploit in English naval history. As matters stoodit would have been perfectly possible for Drake to have gone into theTagus, and if he could not have burnt the galleons he could certainlyhave come away unhurt. He had guessed their condition with entirecorrectness. The ships were there, but the ships' companies were not onboard them. Santa Cruz himself admitted that if Drake had gone in hecould have himself done nothing 'por falta de gente' (for want of men). And Drake undoubtedly would have gone, and would have done somethingwith which all the world would have rung, but for the positive commandof his mistress. He lingered in the roads at Cintra, hoping that SantaCruz would come out and meet him. All Spain was clamouring at SantaCruz's inaction. Philip wrote to stir the old admiral to energy. He mustnot allow himself to be defied by a squadron of insolent rovers. He mustchase them off the coast or destroy them. Santa Cruz needed no stirring. Santa Cruz, the hero of a hundred fights, was chafing at his ownimpotence; but he was obliged to tell his master that if he wished tohave service out of his galleons he must provide crews to handle them, and they must rot at their anchors till he did. He told him, moreover, that it was time for him to exert himself in earnest. If he waited muchlonger, England would have grown too strong for him to deal with. In strict obedience Drake ought now to have gone home, but the campaignhad brought so far more glory than prize-money. His comrades requiredsome consolation for their disappointment at Lisbon. The theory of thesearmaments of the adventurers was that the cost should be paid somehow bythe enemy, and he could be assured that if he brought back a prize ortwo in which she could claim a share the Queen would not call him to avery strict account. Homeward-bound galleons or merchantmen were to bemet with occasionally at the Azores. On leaving Lisbon Drake headed awayto St. Michael's, and his lucky star was still in the ascendant. As if sent on purpose for him, the _San Philip_, a magnificent caraquefrom the Indies, fell straight into his hands, 'so richly loaded, ' itwas said, 'that every man in the fleet counted his fortune made. ' Therewas no need to wait for more. It was but two months since Drake hadsailed from Plymouth. He could now go home after a cruise of which thehistory of his own or any other country had never presented the like. He had struck the King of Spain in his own stronghold. He had disabledthe intended Armada for one season at least. He had picked up a prize bythe way and as if by accident, worth half a million, to pay hisexpenses, so that he had cost nothing to his mistress, and had broughtback a handsome present for her. I doubt if such a naval estimate wasever presented to an English House of Commons. Above all he had taughtthe self-confident Spaniard to be afraid of him, and he carried back hispoor comrades in such a glow of triumph that they would have foughtSatan and all his angels with Drake at their head. Our West-country annals still tell how the country people streamed downin their best clothes to see the great _San Philip_ towed into DartmouthHarbour. English Protestantism was no bad cable for the nation to rideby in those stormy times, and deserves to be honourably remembered in aSchool of History at an English University. LECTURE VIII SAILING OF THE ARMADA Peace or war between Spain and England, that was now the question, witha prospect of securing the English succession for himself or one of hisdaughters. With the whole Spanish nation smarting under the indignity ofthe burning of the ships at Cadiz, Philip's warlike ardour had warmedinto something like fire. He had resolved at any rate, if he was toforgive his sister-in-law at all, to insist on more than toleration forthe Catholics in England. He did not contemplate as even possible thatthe English privateers, however bold or dexterous, could resist such anarmament as he was preparing to lead to the Channel. The Royal Navy, heknew very well, did not exceed twenty-five ships of all sorts and sizes. The adventurers might be equal to sudden daring actions, but would andmust be crushed by such a fleet as was being fitted out at Lisbon. Hetherefore, for himself, meant to demand that the Catholic religionshould be restored to its complete and exclusive superiority, andcertain towns in England were to be made over to be garrisoned bySpanish troops as securities for Elizabeth's good behaviour. As oftenhappens with irresolute men, when they have once been forced to adecision they are as too hasty as before they were too slow. After Drakehad retired from Lisbon the King of Spain sent orders to the Prince ofParma not to wait for the arrival of the Armada, but to cross theChannel immediately with the Flanders army, and bring Elizabeth to herknees. Parma had more sense than his master. He represented that hecould not cross without a fleet to cover his passage. His transportbarges would only float in smooth water, and whether the water wassmooth or rough they could be sent to the bottom by half a dozen Englishcruisers from the Thames. Supposing him to have landed, either in Thanetor other spot, he reminded Philip that he could not have at most morethan 25, 000 men with him. The English militia were in training. TheJesuits said they were disaffected, but the Jesuits might be making amistake. He might have to fight more than one battle. He would have toleave detachments as he advanced to London, to cover his communications, and a reverse would be fatal. He would obey if his Majesty persisted, but he recommended Philip to continue to amuse the English with thetreaty till the Armada was ready, and, in evident consciousness that theenterprise would be harder than Philip imagined, he even gave it as hisown opinion still (notwithstanding Cadiz), that if Elizabeth wouldsurrender the cautionary towns in Flanders to Spain, and would grant theEnglish Catholics a fair degree of liberty, it would be Philip'sinterest to make peace at once without stipulating for further terms. Hecould make a new war if he wished at a future time, when circumstancesmight be more convenient and the Netherlands revolt subdued. To such conditions as these it seemed that Elizabeth was inclining toconsent. The towns had been trusted to her keeping by theNetherlanders. To give them up to the enemy to make better conditionsfor herself would be an infamy so great as to have disgraced Elizabethfor ever; yet she would not see it. She said the towns belonged toPhilip and she would only be restoring his own to him. Burghley badeher, if she wanted peace, send back Drake to the Azores and frightenPhilip for his gold ships. She was in one of her ungovernable moods. Instead of sending out Drake again she ordered her own fleet to bedismantled and laid up at Chatham, and she condescended to apologise toParma for the burning of the transports at Cadiz as done against herorders. This was in December 1587, only five months before the Armada sailedfrom Lisbon. Never had she brought herself and her country so near ruin. The entire safety of England rested at that moment on the adventurers, and on the adventurers alone. Meanwhile, with enormous effort the destruction at Cadiz had beenrepaired. The great fleet was pushed on, and in February Santa Cruzreported himself almost ready. Santa Cruz and Philip, however, were notin agreement as to what should be done. Santa Cruz was a fightingadmiral, Philip was not a fighting king. He changed his mind as often asElizabeth. Hot fits varied with cold. His last news from England led himto hope that fighting would not be wanted. The Commissioners weresitting at Ostend. On one side there were the formal negotiations, inwhich the surrender of the towns was not yet treated as an openquestion. Had the States been aware that Elizabeth was even in thoughtentertaining it, they would have made terms instantly on their ownaccount and left her alone in the cold. Besides this, there was a secondnegotiation underneath, carried on by private agents, in which thesurrender was to be the special condition. These complicated schemingsParma purposely protracted, to keep Elizabeth in false security. She hadnot deliberately intended to give up the towns. At the last moment shewould have probably refused, unless the States themselves consented toit as part of a general settlement. But she was playing with the idea. The States, she thought, were too obstinate. Peace would be good forthem, and she said she might do them good if she pleased, whether theyliked it or not. Parma was content that she should amuse herself with words and neglecther defences by sea and land. By the end of February Santa Cruz wasready. A northerly wind blows strong down the coast of Portugal in thespring months, and he meant to be off before it set in, before the endof March at latest. Unfortunately for Spain, Santa Cruz fell ill at thelast moment--ill, it was said, with anxiety. Santa Cruz knew well enoughwhat Philip would not know--that the expedition would be no holidayparade. He had reason enough to be anxious if Philip was to accompanyhim and tie his hands and embarrass him. Anyway, Santa Cruz died after afew days' illness. The sailing had to be suspended till a new commandercould be decided on, and in the choice which Philip made he gave acurious proof of what he intended the expedition to do. He did notreally expect or wish for any serious fighting. He wanted to besovereign of England again, with the assent of the English Catholics. He did not mean, if he could help it, to irritate the national pride byforce and conquest. While Santa Cruz lived, Spanish public opinion wouldnot allow him to be passed over. Santa Cruz must command, and Philip hadresolved to go with him, to prevent too violent proceedings. Santa Cruzdead, he could find someone who would do what he was told, and his ownpresence would no longer be necessary. The Duke of Medina Sidonia, named El Bueno, or the Good, was a grandeeof highest rank. He was enormously rich, fond of hunting and shooting, atolerable rider, for the rest a harmless creature getting on to forty, conscious of his defects, but not aware that so great a prince had anyneed to mend them; without vanity, without ambition, and most happy whenlounging in his orange gardens at San Lucan. Of active service he hadseen none. He was Captain-General of Andalusia, and had run away fromCadiz when Drake came into the harbour; but that was all. To hisastonishment and to his dismay he learnt that it was on him that thechoice had fallen to be the Lord High Admiral of Spain and commander ofthe so much talked of expedition to England. He protested his unfitness. He said that he was no seaman; that he knew nothing of fighting by seaor land; that if he ventured out in a boat he was always sick; that hehad never seen the English Channel; and that, as to politics, he neitherknew anything nor cared anything about them. In short, he had not onequalification which such a post required. Philip liked his modesty; but in fact the Duke's defects were hisrecommendations. He would obey his instructions, would not fight unlessit was necessary, and would go into no rash adventures. All that Philipwanted him to do was to find the Prince of Parma, and act as Parmashould bid him. As to seamanship, he would have the best officers in thenavy under him; and for a second in command he should have Don Diego deValdez, a cautious, silent, sullen old sailor, a man after Philip's ownheart. Doubting, hesitating, the Duke repaired to Lisbon. There he was put inbetter heart by a nun, who said Our Lady had sent her to promise himsuccess. Every part of the service was new to him. He was a fussy, anxious little man; set himself to inquire into everything, to meddlewith things which he could not understand and had better have leftalone. He ought to have left details to the responsible heads ofdepartments. He fancied that in a week or two he could look himself intoeverything. There were 130 ships, 8, 000 seamen, 19, 000 Spanish infantry, with gentlemen volunteers, officers, priests, surgeons, galleyslaves--at least 3, 000 more--provisioned for six months. Then there werethe ships' stores, arms small and great, powder, spars, cordage, canvas, and such other million necessities as ships on service need. The wholeof this the poor Duke took on himself to examine into, and, as he couldnot understand what he saw, and knew not what to look at, nothing wasexamined into at all. Everyone's mind was, in fact, so much absorbed bythe spiritual side of the thing that they could not attend to vulgarcommonplaces. Don Quixote, when he set out on his expedition, and forgotmoney and a change of linen, was not in a state of wilder exaltationthan Catholic Europe at the sailing of the Armada. Every noble familyin Spain had sent one or other of its sons to fight for Christ and OurLady. For three years the stream of prayer had been ascending from church, cathedral, or oratory. The King had emptied his treasury. The hidalgoand the tradesman had offered their contributions. The crusade againstthe Crescent itself had not kindled a more intense or more sacredenthusiasm. All pains were taken to make the expedition spirituallyworthy of its purpose. No impure thing, specially no impure woman, wasto approach the yards or ships. Swearing, quarrelling, gambling, wereprohibited under terrible penalties. The galleons were named after theapostles and saints to whose charge they were committed, and everyseaman and soldier confessed and communicated on going on board. Theship-boys at sunrise were to sing their Buenos Dias at the foot of themainmast, and their Ave Maria as the sun sank into the ocean. On theImperial banner were embroidered the figures of Christ and His Mother, and as a motto the haughty 'Plus Ultra' of Charles V. Was replaced withthe more pious aspiration, 'Exsurge, Deus, et vindica causam tuam. ' Nothing could be better if the more vulgar necessities had been lookedto equally well. Unluckily, Medina Sidonia had taken the inspection ofthese on himself, and Medina Sidonia was unable to correct theinformation which any rascal chose to give him. At length, at the end of April, he reported himself satisfied. Thebanner was blessed in the cathedral, men and stores all on board, andthe Invincible Armada prepared to go upon its way. No wonder Philip wasconfident. A hundred and thirty galleons, from 1, 300 to 700 tons, 30, 000fighting men, besides slaves and servants, made up a force which theworld might well think invincible. The guns were the weakest part. Therewere twice as many as the English; but they were for the most part nineand six pounders, and with but fifty rounds to each. The Spaniards haddone their sea fighting hitherto at close range, grappling and trustingto musketry. They were to receive a lesson about this before the summerwas over. But Philip himself meanwhile expected evidently that he wouldmeet with no opposition. Of priests he had provided 180; of surgeons andsurgeons' assistants eighty-five only for the whole fleet. In the middle of May he sent down his last orders. The Duke was not toseek a battle. If he fell in with Drake he was to take no notice of him, but thank God, as Dogberry said to the watchman, that he was rid of aknave. He was to go straight to the North Foreland, there anchor andcommunicate with Parma. The experienced admirals who had learnt theirtrade under Santa Cruz--Martinez de Recalde, Pedro de Valdez, Miguel deOquendo--strongly urged the securing Plymouth or the Isle of Wight ontheir way up Channel. This had evidently been Santa Cruz's own design, and the only rational one to have followed. Philip did not see it. Hedid not believe it would prove necessary; but as to this and as tofighting he left them, as he knew he must do, a certain discretion. The Duke then, flying the sacred banner on the _San Martin_, droppeddown the Tagus on the 14th of May, followed by the whole fleet. The_San Martin_ had been double-timbered with oak, to keep the shot out. Heliked his business no better. In vain he repeated to himself that it wasGod's cause. God would see they came to no harm. He was no sooner in theopen sea than he found no cause, however holy, saved men from theconsequences of their own blunders. They were late out, and met thenorth trade wind, as Santa Cruz had foretold. They drifted to leeward day by day till they had dropped down to CapeSt. Vincent. Infinite pains had been taken with the spiritual state ofeveryone on board. The carelessness or roguery of contractors andpurveyors had not been thought of. The water had been taken in threemonths before. It was found foul and stinking. The salt beef, the saltpork, and fish were putrid, the bread full of maggots and cockroaches. Cask was opened after cask. It was the same story everywhere. They hadto be all thrown overboard. In the whole fleet there was not a soundmorsel of food but biscuit and dried fruit. The men went down inhundreds with dysentery. The Duke bewailed his fate as innocently asSancho Panza. He hoped God would help. He had wished no harm toanybody. He had left his home and his family to please the King, and hetrusted the King would remember it. He wrote piteously for fresh stores, if the King would not have them all perish. The admirals said they couldgo no further without fresh water. All was dismay and confusion. Thewind at last fell round south, and they made Finisterre. It then came onto blow, and they were scattered. The Duke with half the fleet crawledinto Corunna, the crews scarce able to man the yards and trying todesert in shoals. The missing ships dropped in one by one, but a week passed and a thirdof them were still absent. Another despairing letter went off from theDuke to his master. He said that he concluded from their misfortunesthat God disapproved of the expedition, and that it had better beabandoned. Diego Florez was of the same opinion. The stores wereworthless, he said. The men were sick and out of heart. Nothing could bedone that season. It was not by flinching at the first sight of difficulty that theSpaniards had become masters of half the world. The old comrades ofSanta Cruz saw nothing in what had befallen them beyond a commonaccident of sea life. To abandon at the first check an enterpriseundertaken with so much pretence, they said, would be cowardly anddishonourable. Ships were not lost because they were out of sight. Freshmeat and bread could be taken on board from Corunna. They could set up ashore hospital for the sick. The sickness was not dangerous. There hadbeen no deaths. A little energy and all would be well again. Pedro deValdez despatched a courier to Philip to entreat him not to listen tothe Duke's croakings. Philip returned a speedy answer telling the Dukenot to be frightened at shadows. There was nothing, in fact, really to be alarmed at. Fresh water tookaway the dysentery. Fresh food was brought in from the country. Galicianseamen filled the gaps made by the deserters. The ships were laid onshore and scraped and tallowed. Tents were pitched on an island in theharbour, with altars and priests, and everyone confessed again andreceived the Sacrament. 'This, ' wrote the Duke, 'is great riches and aprecious jewel, and all now are well content and cheerful. ' Thescattered flock had reassembled. Damages were all repaired, and the onlyharm had been loss of time. Once more, on the 23rd of July, the Armadain full numbers was under way for England and streaming across the Bayof Biscay with a fair wind for the mouth of the Channel. Leaving the Duke for the moment, we must now glance at the preparationsmade in England to receive him. It might almost be said that there werenone at all. The winter months had been wild and changeable, but not sowild and not so fluctuating as the mind of England's mistress. InDecember her fleet had been paid off at Chatham. The danger of leavingthe country without any regular defence was pressed on her so vehementlythat she consented to allow part of the ships to be recommissioned. The_Revenge_ was given to Drake. He and Howard, the Lord Admiral, were tohave gone with a mixed squadron from the Royal Navy and the adventurersdown to the Spanish coast. In every loyal subject there had long beenbut one opinion, that a good open war was the only road to an honourablepeace. The open war, they now trusted, was come at last. But the hopewas raised only to be disappointed. With the news of Santa Cruz's deathcame a report which Elizabeth greedily believed, that the Armada wasdissolving and was not coming at all. Sir James Crofts sang the usualsong that Drake and Howard wanted war, because war was their trade. Sherecalled her orders. She said that she was assured of peace in sixweeks, and that beyond that time the services of the fleet would not berequired. Half the men engaged were to be dismissed at once to savetheir pay. Drake and Lord Henry Seymour might cruise with four or fiveof the Queen's ships between Plymouth and the Solent. Lord Howard was toremain in the Thames with the rest. I know not whether swearing wasinterdicted in the English navy as well as in the Spanish, but I willanswer for it that Howard did not spare his language when this missivereached him. 'Never, ' he said, 'since England was England was such astratagem made to deceive us as this treaty. We have not hands left tocarry the ships back to Chatham. We are like bears tied to a stake; theSpaniards may come to worry us like dogs, and we cannot hurt them. ' It was well for England that she had other defenders than the wildlymanaged navy of the Queen. Historians tell us how the gentlemen of thecoast came out in their own vessels to meet the invaders. Come they did, but who were they? Ships that could fight the Spanish galleons were notmade in a day or a week. They were built already. They were manned byloyal subjects, the business of whose lives had been to meet the enemiesof their land and faith on the wide ocean--not by those who had beenwatching with divided hearts for a Catholic revolution. March went by, and sure intelligence came that the Armada was notdissolving. Again Drake prayed the Queen to let him take the _Revenge_and the Western adventurers down to Lisbon; but the commissioners wrotefull of hope from Ostend, and Elizabeth was afraid 'the King of Spainmight take it ill. ' She found fault with Drake's expenses. She chargedhim with wasting her ammunition in target practice. She had it doled outto him in driblets, and allowed no more than would serve for a day and ahalf's service. She kept a sharp hand on the victualling houses. Aprilwent, and her four finest ships--the _Triumph_, the _Victory_, the_Elizabeth Jonas_, and the _Bear_--were still with sails unbent, 'keeping Chatham church. ' She said they would not be wanted and it wouldbe waste of money to refit them. Again she was forced to yield at last, and the four ships were got to sea in time, the workmen in the yardsmaking up for the delay; but she had few enough when her whole fleet wasout upon the Channel, and but for the privateers there would have beenan ill reckoning when the trial came. The Armada was coming now. Therewas no longer a doubt of it. Lord Henry Seymour was left with fiveQueen's ships and thirty London adventurers to watch Parma and theNarrow Seas. Howard, carrying his own flag in the _Ark Raleigh_, joinedDrake at Plymouth with seventeen others. Still the numbing hand of his mistress pursued him. Food supplies hadbeen issued to the middle of June, and no more was to be allowed. Theweather was desperate--wildest summer ever known. The south-west galesbrought the Atlantic rollers into the Sound. Drake lay inside, perhapsbehind the island which bears his name. Howard rode out the gales underMount Edgecumbe, the days going by and the provisions wasting. Therations were cut down to make the stores last longer. Owing to the manychanges the crews had been hastily raised. They were ill-clothed, ill-provided every way, but they complained of nothing, caught fish tomend their mess dinners, and prayed only for the speedy coming of theenemy. Even Howard's heart failed him now. English sailors would do whatcould be done by man, but they could not fight with famine. 'Awake, Madam, ' he wrote to the Queen, 'awake, for the love of Christ, and seethe villainous treasons round about you. ' He goaded her into orderingsupplies for one more month, but this was to be positively the last. Thevictuallers inquired if they should make further preparations. Sheanswered peremptorily, 'No'; and again the weeks ran on. Thecontractors, it seemed, had caught her spirit, for the beer which hadbeen furnished for the fleet turned sour, and those who drank itsickened. The officers, on their own responsibility, ordered wine andarrowroot for the sick out of Plymouth, to be called to a sharp accountwhen all was over. Again the rations were reduced. Four weeks' allowancewas stretched to serve for six, and still the Spaniards did not come. SoEngland's forlorn hope was treated at the crisis of her destiny. Thepreparations on land were scarcely better. The militia had been calledout. A hundred thousand men had given their names, and the stations hadbeen arranged where they were to assemble if the enemy attempted alanding. But there were no reserves, no magazines of arms, no stores ortents, no requisites for an army save the men themselves and what localresources could furnish. For a general the Queen had chosen the Earl ofLeicester, who might have the merit of fidelity to herself, butotherwise was the worst fitted that she could have found in her wholedominions; and the Prince of Parma was coming, if he came at all, atthe head of the best-provided and best-disciplined troops in Europe. Thehope of England at that moment was in her patient suffering sailors atPlymouth. Each morning they looked out passionately for the Spanishsails. Time was a worse enemy than the galleons. The six weeks would besoon gone, and the Queen's ships must then leave the seas if the crewswere not to starve. Drake had certain news that the Armada had sailed. Where was it? Once he dashed out as far as Ushant, but turned back, lestit should pass him in the night and find Plymouth undefended; andsmaller grew the messes and leaner and paler the seamen's faces. Stillnot a man murmured or gave in. They had no leisure to be sick. The last week of July had now come. There were half-rations for one weekmore, and powder for two days' fighting. That was all. On so light athread such mighty issues were now depending. On Friday, the 23rd, theArmada had started for the second time, the numbers undiminished;religious fervour burning again, and heart and hope high as ever. Saturday, Sunday, and Monday they sailed on with a smooth sea and softsouth winds, and on Monday night the Duke found himself at the Channelmouth with all his flock about him. Tuesday morning the wind shifted tothe north, then backed to the west, and blew hard. The sea got up, brokeinto the stern galleries of the galleons, and sent the galleys lookingfor shelter in French harbours. The fleet hove to for a couple of days, till the weather mended. On Friday afternoon they sighted the Lizard andformed into fighting order; the Duke in the centre, Alonzo de Leyvaleading in a vessel of his own called the _Rata Coronada_, Don Martin deRecalde covering the rear. The entire line stretched to about sevenmiles. The sacred banner was run up to the masthead of the _San Martin_. Eachship saluted with all her guns, and every man--officer, noble, seaman, or slave--knelt on the decks at a given signal to commend themselves toMary and her Son. We shall miss the meaning of this high epic story ifwe do not realise that both sides had the most profound conviction thatthey were fighting the battle of the Almighty. Two principles, freedomand authority, were contending for the guidance of mankind. In theevening the Duke sent off two fast fly-boats to Parma to announce hisarrival in the Channel, with another reporting progress to Philip, andsaying that till he heard from the Prince he meant to stop at the Isleof Wight. It is commonly said that his officers advised him to go in andtake Plymouth. There is no evidence for this. The island would have beena far more useful position for them. At dark that Friday night the beacons were seen blazing all up the coastand inland on the tops of the hills. They crept on slowly throughSaturday, with reduced canvas, feeling their way--not a sail to be seen. At midnight a pinnace brought in a fishing-boat, from which they learntthat on the sight of the signal fires the English had come out thatmorning from Plymouth. Presently, when the moon rose, they saw sailspassing between them and the land. With daybreak the whole scene becamevisible, and the curtain lifted on the first act of the drama. TheArmada was between Rame Head and the Eddystone, or a little to the westof it. Plymouth Sound was right open to their left. The breeze, whichhad dropped in the night, was freshening from the south-west, and rightahead of them, outside the Mew Stone, were eleven ships manoeuvring torecover the wind. Towards the land were some forty others, of varioussizes, and this formed, as far as they could see, the whole Englishforce. In numbers the Spaniards were nearly three to one. In the size ofthe ships there was no comparison. With these advantages the Dukedecided to engage, and a signal was made to hold the wind and keep theenemy apart. The eleven ships ahead were Howard's squadron; those insidewere Drake and the adventurers. With some surprise the Spanish officerssaw Howard reach easily to windward out of range and join Drake. Thewhole English fleet then passed out close-hauled in line behind them andswept along their rear, using guns more powerful than theirs and pouringin broadsides from safe distance with deadly effect. Recalde, withAlonzo de Leyva and Oquendo, who came to his help, tried desperately toclose; but they could make nothing of it. They were out-sailed andout-cannoned. The English fired five shots to one of theirs, and theeffect was the more destructive because, as with Rodney's action atDominica, the galleons were crowded with troops, and shot and splinterstold terribly among them. The experience was new and not agreeable. Recalde's division was badlycut up, and a Spaniard present observes that certain officers showedcowardice--a hit at the Duke, who had kept out of fire. The actionlasted till four in the afternoon. The wind was then freshening fast andthe sea rising. Both fleets had by this time passed the Sound, and theDuke, seeing that nothing could be done, signalled to bear away upChannel, the English following two miles astern. Recalde's own ship hadbeen an especial sufferer. She was observed to be leaking badly, to dropbehind, and to be in danger of capture. Pedro de Valdez wore round tohelp him in the _Capitana_, of the Andalusian squadron, fouled the_Santa Catalina_ in turning, broke his bowsprit and foretopmast, andbecame unmanageable. The Andalusian _Capitana_ was one of the finestships in the Spanish fleet, and Don Pedro one of the ablest and mostpopular commanders. She had 500 men on board, a large sum of money, and, among other treasures, a box of jewel-hilted swords, which Philipwas sending over to the English Catholic peers. But it was growing dark. Sea and sky looked ugly. The Duke was flurried, and signalled to go onand leave Don Pedro to his fate. Alonzo de Leyva and Oquendo rushed onboard the _San Martin_ to protest. It was no use. Diego Florez said hecould not risk the safety of the fleet for a single officer. Thedeserted _Capitana_ made a brave defence, but could not save herself, and fell, with the jewelled swords, 50, 000 ducats, and a welcome supplyof powder, into Drake's hands. Off the Start there was a fresh disaster. Everyone was in ill-humour. Aquarrel broke out between the soldiers and seamen in Oquendo's galleon. He was himself still absent. Some wretch or other flung a torch into thepowder magazine and jumped overboard. The deck was blown off, and 200men along with it. Two such accidents following an unsuccessful engagement did not tend toreconcile the Spaniards to the Duke's command. Pedro de Valdez wasuniversally loved and honoured, and his desertion in the face of anenemy so inferior in numbers was regarded as scandalous poltroonery. Monday morning broke heavily. The wind was gone, but there was still aconsiderable swell. The English were hull down behind. The day was spentin repairing damages and nailing lead over the shot-holes. Recalde wasmoved to the front, to be out of harm's way, and De Leyva took his postin the rear. At sunset they were outside Portland. The English had come up within aleague; but it was now dead calm, and they drifted apart in the tide. The Duke thought of nothing, but at midnight the Spanish officersstirred him out of his sleep to urge him to set his great galleasses towork; now was their chance. The dawn brought a chance still better, forit brought an east wind, and the Spaniards had now the weather-gage. Could they once close and grapple with the English ships, their superiornumbers would then assure them a victory, and Howard, being to leewardand inshore, would have to pass through the middle of the Spanish lineto recover his advantage. However, it was the same story. The Spaniardscould not use an opportunity when they had one. New-modelled forsuperiority of sailing, the English ships had the same advantage overthe galleons as the steam cruisers would have over the oldthree-deckers. While the breeze held they went where they pleased. TheSpaniards were out-sailed, out-matched, crushed by guns of longer rangethan theirs. Their own shot flew high over the low English hulls, whileevery ball found its way through their own towering sides. This time the_San Martin_ was in the thick of it. Her double timbers were ripped andtorn; the holy standard was cut in two; the water poured through theshot-holes. The men lost their nerve. In such ships as had no gentlemenon board notable signs were observed of flinching. At the end of that day's fighting the English powder gave out. Two days'service had been the limit of the Queen's allowance. Howard had pressedfor a more liberal supply at the last moment, and had received thecharacteristic answer that he must state precisely how much he wantedbefore more could be sent. The lighting of the beacons had quickenedthe official pulse a little. A small addition had been despatched toWeymouth or Poole, and no more could be done till it arrived. The Duke, meanwhile, was left to smooth his ruffled plumes and drift on upon hisway. But by this time England was awake. Fresh privateers, with powder, meat, bread, fruit, anything that they could bring, were pouring outfrom the Dorsetshire harbours. Sir George Carey had come from theNeedles in time to share the honours of the last battle, 'round shot, 'as he said, 'flying thick as musket balls in a skirmish on land. ' The Duke had observed uneasily from the _San Martin's_ deck that hispursuers were growing numerous. He had made up his mind definitely to gofor the Isle of Wight, shelter his fleet in the Solent, land 10, 000 menin the island, and stand on his defence till he heard from Parma. Hemust fight another battle; but, cut up as he had been, he had as yetlost but two ships, and those by accident. He might fairly hope to forcehis way in with help from above, for which he had special reason to lookin the next engagement. Wednesday was a breathless calm. The Englishwere taking in their supplies. The Armada lay still, repairing damages. Thursday would be St. Dominic's Day. St. Dominic belonged to the Duke'sown family, and was his patron saint. St. Dominic he felt sure, wouldnow stand by his kinsman. The morning broke with a light air. The English would be less able tomove, and with the help of the galleasses he might hope to come to closequarters at last. Howard seemed inclined to give him his wish. With justwind enough to move the Lord Admiral led in the _Ark Raleigh_ straightdown on the Spanish centre. The _Ark_ out-sailed her consorts and foundherself alone with the galleons all round her. At that moment the winddropped. The Spanish boarding-parties were at their posts. The tops weremanned with musketeers, the grappling irons all prepared to fling intothe _Ark's_ rigging. In imagination the English admiral was their own. But each day's experience was to teach them a new lesson. Eleven boatsdropped from the _Ark's_ sides and took her in tow. The breeze roseagain as she began to move. Her sails filled, and she slipped awaythrough the water, leaving the Spaniards as if they were at anchor, staring in helpless amazement. The wind brought up Drake and the rest, and then began again the terrible cannonade from which the Armada hadalready suffered so frightfully. It seemed that morning as if theEnglish were using guns of even heavier metal than on either of thepreceding days. The armament had not been changed. The growth was intheir own frightened imagination. The Duke had other causes foruneasiness. His own magazines were also giving out under the unexpecteddemands upon them. One battle was the utmost which he had looked for. Hehad fought three, and the end was no nearer than before. With resolutionhe might still have made his way into St. Helen's roads, for the Englishwere evidently afraid to close with him. But when St. Dominic, too, failed him he lost his head. He lost his heart, and losing heart he lostall. In the Solent he would have been comparatively safe, and he couldeasily have taken the Isle of Wight; but his one thought now was tofind safety under Parma's gaberdine and make for Calais or Dunkirk. Hesupposed Parma to have already embarked, on hearing of his coming, witha second armed fleet, and in condition for immediate action. He sent onanother pinnace, pressing for help, pressing for ammunition, andfly-boats to protect the galleons; and Parma was himself looking to besupplied from the Armada, with no second fleet at all, only a flotillaof river barges which would need a week's work to be prepared for thecrossing. Philip had provided a splendid fleet, a splendid army, and the finestsailors in the world except the English. He had failed to realise thatthe grandest preparations are useless with a fool to command. The poorDuke was less to blame than his master. An office had been thrust uponhim for which he knew that he had not a single qualification. His oneanxiety was to find Parma, lay the weight on Parma's shoulders, and sohave done with it. On Friday he was left alone to make his way up Channel towards theFrench shore. The English still followed, but he counted that in Calaisroads he would be in French waters, where they would not dare to meddlewith him. They would then, he thought, go home and annoy him no further. As he dropped anchor in the dusk outside Calais on Saturday evening hesaw, to his disgust, that the _endemoniada gente_--the infernaldevils--as he called them, had brought up at the same moment withhimself, half a league astern of him. His one trust was in the Prince ofParma, and Parma at any rate was now within touch. LECTURE IX DEFEAT OF THE ARMADA In the gallery at Madrid there is a picture, painted by Titian, representing the Genius of Spain coming to the delivery of the afflictedBride of Christ. Titian was dead, but the temper of the age survived, and in the study of that great picture you will see the spirit in whichthe Spanish nation had set out for the conquest of England. The scene isthe seashore. The Church a naked Andromeda, with dishevelled hair, fastened to the trunk of an ancient disbranched tree. The cross lies ather feet, the cup overturned, the serpents of heresy biting at her frombehind with uplifted crests. Coming on before a leading breeze is thesea monster, the Moslem fleet, eager for their prey; while in front isPerseus, the Genius of Spain, banner in hand, with the legions of thefaithful laying not raiment before him, but shield and helmet, theapparel of war for the Lady of Nations to clothe herself with strengthand smite her foes. In the Armada the crusading enthusiasm had reached its point and focus. England was the stake to which the Virgin, the daughter of Sion, wasbound in captivity. Perseus had come at last in the person of the Dukeof Medina Sidonia, and with him all that was best and brightest in thecountrymen of Cervantes, to break her bonds and replace her on herthrone. They had sailed into the Channel in pious hope, with the blessedbanner waving over their heads. To be the executor of the decrees of Providence is a lofty ambition, butmen in a state of high emotion overlook the precautions which are not tobe dispensed with even on the sublimest of errands. Don Quixote, when heset out to redress the wrongs of humanity, forgot that a change of linenmight be necessary, and that he must take money with him to pay hishotel bills. Philip II. , in sending the Armada to England, and confidentin supernatural protection, imagined an unresisted triumphalprocession. He forgot that contractors might be rascals, that water fourmonths in the casks in a hot climate turned putrid, and that putridwater would poison his ships' companies, though his crews were companiesof angels. He forgot that the servants of the evil one might fight fortheir mistress after all, and that he must send adequate supplies ofpowder, and, worst forgetfulness of all, that a great naval expeditionrequired a leader who understood his business. Perseus, in the shape ofthe Duke of Medina Sidonia, after a week of disastrous battles, foundhimself at the end of it in an exposed roadstead, where he ought neverto have been, nine-tenths of his provisions thrown overboard as unfitfor food, his ammunition exhausted by the unforeseen demands upon it, the seamen and soldiers harassed and dispirited, officers the whole weekwithout sleep, and the enemy, who had hunted him from Plymouth toCalais, anchored within half a league of him. Still, after all his misadventures, he had brought the fleet, if not tothe North Foreland, yet within a few miles of it, and to outwardappearance not materially injured. Two of the galleons had been taken;a third, the _Santa Aña_, had strayed; and his galleys had left him, being found too weak for the Channel sea; but the great armament hadreached its destination substantially uninjured so far as English eyescould see. Hundreds of men had been killed and hundreds more wounded, and the spirit of the rest had been shaken. But the loss of life couldonly be conjectured on board the English fleet. The English admiralcould only see that the Duke was now in touch with Parma. Parma, theyknew, had an army at Dunkirk with him, which was to cross to England. Hehad been collecting men, barges, and transports all the winter andspring, and the backward state of Parma's preparations could not beanticipated, still less relied upon. The Calais anchorage was unsafe;but at that season of the year, especially after a wet summer, theweather usually settled; and to attack the Spaniards in a French portmight be dangerous for many reasons. It was uncertain after the day ofthe Barricades whether the Duke of Guise or Henry of Valois was masterof France, and a violation of the neutrality laws might easily at thatmoment bring Guise and France into the field on the Spaniards' side. Itwas, no doubt, with some such expectation that the Duke and his advisershad chosen Calais as the point at which to bring up. It was nowSaturday, the 7th of August. The Governor of the town came off in theevening to the _San Martin_. He expressed surprise to see the Spanishfleet in so exposed a position, but he was profuse in his offers ofservice. Anything which the Duke required should be provided, especiallyevery facility for communicating with Dunkirk and Parma. The Dukethanked him, said that he supposed Parma to be already embarked with histroops, ready for the passage, and that his own stay in the roads wouldbe but brief. On Monday morning at latest he expected that the attemptto cross would be made. The Governor took his leave, and the Duke, relieved from his anxieties, was left to a peaceful night. He wasdisturbed on the Sunday morning by an express from Parma informing himthat, so far from being embarked, the army could not be ready for afortnight. The barges were not in condition for sea. The troops were incamp. The arms and stores were on the quays at Dunkirk. As for thefly-boats and ammunition which the Duke had asked for, he had none tospare. He had himself looked to be supplied from the Armada. He promisedto use his best expedition, but the Duke, meanwhile, must see to thesafety of the fleet. Unwelcome news to a harassed landsman thrust into the position of anadmiral and eager to be rid of his responsibilities. If by evil fortunethe north-wester should come down upon him, with the shoals andsandbanks close under his lee, he would be in a bad way. Nor was theview behind him calculated for comfort. There lay the enemy almostwithin gunshot, who, though scarcely more than half his numbers, hadhunted him like a pack of bloodhounds, and, worse than all, in doublestrength; for the Thames squadron--three Queen's ships and thirty Londonadventurers--under Lord H. Seymour and Sir John Hawkins, had crossed inthe night. There they were between him and Cape Grisnez, and thereinforcement meant plainly enough that mischief was in the wind. After a week so trying the Spanish crews would have been glad of aSunday's rest if they could have had it; but the rough handling whichthey had gone through had thrown everything into disorder. The sick andwounded had to be cared for, torn rigging looked to, splintered timbersmended, decks scoured, and guns and arms cleaned up and put to rights. And so it was that no rest could be allowed; so much had to be done, andso busy was everyone, that the usual rations were not served out and theSunday was kept as a fast. In the afternoon the stewards went ashore forfresh meat and vegetables. They came back with their boats loaded, andthe prospect seemed a little less gloomy. Suddenly, as the Duke and agroup of officers were watching the English fleet from the _SanMartin's_ poop deck, a small smart pinnace, carrying a gun in her bow, shot out from Howard's lines, bore down on the _San Martin_, sailedround her, sending in a shot or two as she passed, and went off unhurt. The Spanish officers could not help admiring such airy impertinence. Hugo de Monçada sent a ball after the pinnace, which went through hermainsail, but did no damage, and the pinnace again disappeared behindthe English ships. So a Spanish officer describes the scene. The English story says nothingof the pinnace; but she doubtless came and went as the Spaniard says, and for sufficient purpose. The English, too, were in straits, thoughthe Duke did not dream of it. You will remember that the last supplieswhich the Queen had allowed to the fleet had been issued in the middleof June. They were to serve for a month, and the contractors wereforbidden to prepare more. The Queen had clung to her hope that herdifferences with Philip were to be settled by the Commission at Ostend;and she feared that if Drake and Howard were too well furnished theywould venture some fresh rash stroke on the coast of Spain, which mightmar the negotiations. Their month's provisions had been stretched toserve for six weeks, and when the Armada appeared but two full days'rations remained. On these they had fought their way up Channel. Something had been brought out by private exertion on the Dorsetshirecoast, and Seymour had, perhaps, brought a little more. But they werestill in extremity. The contractors had warned the Government that theycould provide nothing without notice, and notice had not been given. Theadventurers were in better state, having been equipped by privateowners. But the Queen's ships in a day or two more must either go homeor their crews would be starving. They had been on reduced rations fornear two months. Worse than that, they were still poisoned by the sourbeer. The Queen had changed her mind so often, now ordering the fleet toprepare for sea, then recalling her instructions and paying off the men, that those whom Howard had with him had been enlisted in haste, had comeon board as they were, and their clothes were hanging in rags on them. The fighting and the sight of the flying Spaniards were meat and drink, and clothing too, and had made them careless of all else. There was nofear of mutiny; but there was a limit to the toughest endurance. If theArmada was left undisturbed a long struggle might be still before them. The enemy would recover from its flurry, and Parma would come out fromDunkirk. To attack them directly in French waters might lead toperilous complications, while delay meant famine. The Spanish fleet hadto be started from the roads in some way. Done it must be, and doneimmediately. Then, on that same Sunday afternoon a memorable council of war was heldin the _Ark's_ main cabin. Howard, Drake, Seymour, Hawkins, MartinFrobisher, and two or three others met to consult, knowing that on themat that moment the liberties of England were depending. Their resolutionwas taken promptly. There was no time for talk. After nightfall a strongflood tide would be setting up along shore to the Spanish anchorage. They would try what could be done with fire-ships, and the excursion ofthe pinnace, which was taken for bravado, was probably for a survey ofthe Armada's exact position. Meantime eight useless vessels were coatedwith pitch--hulls, spars, and rigging. Pitch was poured on the decks andover the sides, and parties were told off to steer them to theirdestination and then fire and leave them. The hours stole on, and twilight passed into dark. The night waswithout a moon. The Duke paced his deck late with uneasy sense ofdanger. He observed lights moving up and down the English lines, andimagining that the _endemoniada gente_--the infernal devils--might be upto mischief ordered a sharp look-out. A faint westerly air was curlingthe water, and towards midnight the watchers on board the galleons madeout dimly several ships which seemed to be drifting down upon them. Their experience since the action off Plymouth had been so strange andunlooked for that anything unintelligible which the English did wasalarming. The phantom forms drew nearer, and were almost among them when theybroke into a blaze from water-line to truck, and the two fleets wereseen by the lurid light of the conflagration; the anchorage, the wallsand windows of Calais, and the sea shining red far as eye could reach, as if the ocean itself was burning. Among the dangers which they mighthave to encounter, English fireworks had been especially dreaded by theSpaniards. Fire-ships--a fit device of heretics--had worked havoc amongthe Spanish troops, when the bridge was blown up, at Antwerp. Theyimagined that similar infernal machines were approaching the Armada. Acapable commander would have sent a few launches to grapple the burninghulks, which of course were now deserted, and tow them out of harm'sway. Spanish sailors were not cowards, and would not have flinched fromduty because it might be dangerous; but the Duke and Diego Florez losttheir heads again. A signal gun from the _San Martin_ ordered the wholefleet to slip their cables and stand out to sea. Orders given in panic are doubly unwise, for they spread the terror inwhich they originate. The danger from the fire-ships was chiefly fromthe effect on the imagination, for they appear to have drifted by anddone no real injury. And it speaks well for the seamanship and courageof the Spaniards that they were able, crowded together as they were, atmidnight and in sudden alarm to set their canvas and clear out withoutrunning into one another. They buoyed their cables, expecting to returnfor them at daylight, and with only a single accident, to be mentioneddirectly, they executed successfully a really difficult manoeuvre. The Duke was delighted with himself. The fire-ships burnt harmlesslyout. He had baffled the inventions of the _endemoniada gente_. Hebrought up a league outside the harbour, and supposed that the wholeArmada had done the same. Unluckily for himself, he found it at daylightdivided into two bodies. The _San Martin_ with forty of the bestappointed of the galleons were riding together at their anchors. Therest, two-thirds of the whole, having no second anchors ready, andinexperienced in Channel tides and currents, had been lying to. The westwind was blowing up. Without seeing where they were going they haddrifted to leeward, and were two leagues off, towards Gravelines, dangerously near the shore. The Duke was too ignorant to realise thefull peril of his situation. He signalled to them to return and rejoinhim. As the wind and tide stood it was impossible. He proposed to followthem. The pilots told him that if he did the whole fleet might be loston the banks. Towards the land the look of things was not moreencouraging. One accident only had happened the night before. The Capitana galleass, with Don Hugo de Monçada and eight hundred men on board, had fouled herhelm in a cable in getting under way and had become unmanageable. Thegalley slaves disobeyed orders, or else Don Hugo was as incompetent ashis commander-in-chief. The galleass had gone on the sands, and as thetide ebbed had fallen over on her side. Howard, seeing her condition, had followed her in the _Ark_ with four or five other of the Queen'sships, and was furiously attacking her with his boats, careless ofneutrality laws. Howard's theory was, as he said, to pluck the feathersone by one from the Spaniard's wing, and here was a feather worthpicking up. The galleass was the most splendid vessel of her kindafloat, Don Hugo one of the greatest of Spanish grandees. Howard was making a double mistake. He took the galleass at last, afterthree hours' fighting. Don Hugo was killed by a musket ball. The vesselwas plundered, and Howard's men took possession, meaning to carry heraway when the tide rose. The French authorities ordered him off, threatening to fire upon him; and after wasting the forenoon, he wasobliged at last to leave her where she lay. Worse than this, he had lostthree precious hours, and had lost along with them, in the opinion ofthe Prince of Parma, the honours of the great day. Drake and Hawkins knew better than to waste time plucking singlefeathers. The fire-ships had been more effective than they could havedared to hope. The enemy was broken up. The Duke was shorn of half hisstrength, and the Lord had delivered him into their hand. He had gotunder way, still signalling wildly, and uncertain in which direction toturn. His uncertainties were ended for him by seeing Drake bearing downupon him with the whole English fleet, save those which were loiteringabout the galleass. The English had now the advantage of numbers. Thesuperiority of their guns he knew already, and their greater speedallowed him no hope to escape a battle. Forty ships alone were left tohim to defend the banner of the crusade and the honour of Castile; butthose forty were the largest and the most powerfully armed and mannedthat he had, and on board them were Oquendo, De Leyva, Recalde, andBretandona, the best officers in the Spanish navy next to the lost DonPedro. It was now or never for England. The scene of the action which was todecide the future of Europe was between Calais and Dunkirk, a few milesoff shore, and within sight of Parma's camp. There was no moremanoeuvring for the weather-gage, no more fighting at long range. Drake dashed straight upon his prey as the falcon stoops upon itsquarry. A chance had fallen to him which might never return; not for thevain distinction of carrying prizes into English ports, not for the rayof honour which would fall on him if he could carry off the sacredbanner itself and hang it in the Abbey at Westminster, but a chance soto handle the Armada that it should never be seen again in Englishwaters, and deal such a blow on Philip that the Spanish Empire shouldreel with it. The English ships had the same superiority over thegalleons which steamers have now over sailing vessels. They had twicethe speed; they could lie two points nearer to the wind. Sweeping roundthem at cable's length, crowding them in one upon the other, yet neveronce giving them a chance to grapple, they hurled in their cataracts ofround shot. Short as was the powder supply, there was no sparing it thatmorning. The hours went on, and still the battle raged, if battle itcould be called where the blows were all dealt on one side and thesuffering was all on the other. Never on sea or land did the Spaniardsshow themselves worthier of their great name than on that day. But fromthe first they could do nothing. It was said afterwards in Spain thatthe Duke showed the white feather, that he charged his pilot to keep himout of harm's way, that he shut himself up in his cabin, buried inwoolpacks, and so on. The Duke had faults enough, but poltroonery wasnot one of them. He, who till he entered the English Channel had neverbeen in action on sea or land, found himself, as he said, in the midstof the most furious engagement recorded in the history of the world. Asto being out of harm's way, the standard at his masthead drew thehottest of the fire upon him. The _San Martin's_ timbers were of oak anda foot thick, but the shot, he said, went through them enough to shattera rock. Her deck was a slaughterhouse; half his company were killed orwounded, and no more would have been heard or seen of the _San Martin_or her commander had not Oquendo and De Leyva pushed in to the rescueand enabled him to creep away under their cover. He himself saw nothingmore of the action after this. The smoke, he said, was so thick that hecould make out nothing, even from his masthead. But all round it was buta repetition of the same scene. The Spanish shot flew high, as before, above the low English hulls, and they were themselves helpless butts tothe English guns. And it is noticeable and supremely creditable to themthat not a single galleon struck her colours. One of them, after a longduel with an Englishman, was on the point of sinking. An Englishofficer, admiring the courage which the Spaniards had shown, ran outupon his bowsprit, told them that they had done all which became men, and urged them to surrender and save their lives. For answer theycursed the English as cowards and chickens because they refused toclose. The officer was shot. His fall brought a last broadside on them, which finished the work. They went down, and the water closed over them. Rather death to the soldiers of the Cross than surrender to a heretic. The deadly hail rained on. In some ships blood was seen streaming out ofthe scupper-holes. Yet there was no yielding; all ranks showed equalheroism. The priests went up and down in the midst of the carnage, holding the crucifix before the eyes of the dying. At midday Howard cameup to claim a second share in a victory which was no longer doubtful. Towards the afternoon the Spanish fire slackened. Their powder was gone, and they could make no return to the cannonade which was stilloverwhelming them. They admitted freely afterwards that if the attackhad been continued but two hours more they must all have struck or goneashore. But the English magazines were empty also; the last cartridgewas shot away, and the battle ended from mere inability to keep it up. It had been fought on both sides with peculiar determination. In theEnglish there was the accumulated resentment of thirty years of menaceto their country and their creed, with the enemy in tangible shape atlast to be caught and grappled with; in the Spanish, the sense that iftheir cause had not brought them the help they looked for from above, the honour and faith of Castile should not suffer in their hands. It was over. The English drew off, regretting that their thriftymistress had limited their means of fighting for her, and so obligedthem to leave their work half done. When the cannon ceased the windrose, the smoke rolled away, and in the level light of the sunset theycould see the results of the action. A galleon in Recalde's squadron was sinking with all hands. The _SanPhilip_ and the _San Matteo_ were drifting dismasted towards the Dutchcoast, where they were afterwards wrecked. Those which were left withcanvas still showing were crawling slowly after their comrades who hadnot been engaged, the spars and rigging so cut up that they couldscarce bear their sails. The loss of life could only be conjectured, butit had been obviously terrible. The nor'-wester was blowing up and waspressing the wounded ships upon the shoals, from which, if it held, itseemed impossible in their crippled state they would be able to workoff. In this condition Drake left them for the night, not to rest, but fromany quarter to collect, if he could, more food and powder. The snake hadbeen scotched, but not killed. More than half the great fleet were faraway, untouched by shot, perhaps able to fight a second battle if theyrecovered heart. To follow, to drive them on the banks if the wind held, or into the North Sea, anywhere so that he left them no chance ofjoining hands with Parma again, and to use the time before they hadrallied from his blows, that was the present necessity. His own poorfellows were famished and in rags; but neither he nor they had leisureto think of themselves. There was but one thought in the whole of them, to be again in chase of the flying foe. Howard was resolute as Drake. All that was possible was swiftly done. Seymour and the Thames squadronwere to stay in the Straits and watch Parma. From every attainablesource food and powder were collected for the rest--far short in bothways of what ought to have been, but, as Drake said, 'we were resolvedto put on a brag and go on as if we needed nothing. ' Before dawn theadmiral and he were again off on the chase. The brag was unneeded. What man could do had been done, and the rest wasleft to the elements. Never again could Spanish seamen be brought toface the English guns with Medina Sidonia to lead them. They had a foolat their head. The Invisible Powers in whom they had been taught totrust had deserted them. Their confidence was gone and their spiritbroken. Drearily the morning broke on the Duke and his consorts the dayafter the battle. The Armada had collected in the night. The nor'-westerhad freshened to a gale, and they were labouring heavily along, makingfatal leeway towards the shoals. It was St. Lawrence's Day, Philip's patron saint, whose shoulder-bone hehad lately added to the treasures of the Escurial; but St. Lawrence wasas heedless as St. Dominic. The _San Martin_ had but six fathoms underher. Those nearer to the land signalled five, and right before them theycould see the brown foam of the breakers curling over the sands, whileon their weather-beam, a mile distant and clinging to them like theshadow of death, were the English ships which had pursued them fromPlymouth like the dogs of the Furies. The Spanish sailors and soldiershad been without food since the evening when they anchored at Calais. All Sunday they had been at work, no rest allowed them to eat. On theSunday night they had been stirred out of their sleep by the fire-ships. Monday they had been fighting, and Monday night committing their dead tothe sea. Now they seemed advancing directly upon inevitable destruction. As the wind stood there was still room for them to wear and thus escapethe banks, but they would then have to face the enemy, who seemed onlyrefraining from attacking them because while they continued on theirpresent course the winds and waves would finish the work without helpfrom man. Recalde, De Leyva, Oquendo, and other officers were sent forto the _San Martin_ to consult. Oquendo came last. 'Ah, Señor Oquendo, 'said the Duke as the heroic Biscayan stepped on board, 'que haremos?'(what shall we do?) 'Let your Excellency bid load the guns again, ' wasOquendo's gallant answer. It could not be. De Leyva himself said thatthe men would not fight the English again. Florez advised surrender. TheDuke wavered. It was said that a boat was actually lowered to go off toHoward and make terms, and that Oquendo swore that if the boat left the_San Martin_ on such an errand he would fling Florez into the sea. Oquendo's advice would have, perhaps, been the safest if the Duke couldhave taken it. There were still seventy ships in the Armada little hurt. The English were 'bragging, ' as Drake said, and in no conditionthemselves for another serious engagement. But the temper of the entirefleet made a courageous course impossible. There was but one Oquendo. Discipline was gone. The soldiers in their desperation had taken thecommand out of the hands of the seamen. Officers and men alikeabandoned hope, and, with no human prospect of salvation left to them, they flung themselves on their knees upon the decks and prayed theAlmighty to have pity on them. But two weeks were gone since they hadknelt on those same decks on the first sight of the English shore tothank Him for having brought them so far on an enterprise so glorious. Two weeks; and what weeks! Wrecked, torn by cannon shot, ten thousand ofthem dead or dying--for this was the estimated loss by battle--thesurvivors could now but pray to be delivered from a miserable death bythe elements. In cyclones the wind often changes suddenly back fromnorth-west to west, from west to south. At that moment, as if in answerto their petition, one of these sudden shifts of wind saved them fromthe immediate peril. The gale backed round to S. S. W. , and ceased topress them on the shoals. They could ease their sheets, draw off intoopen water, and steer a course up the middle of the North Sea. So only that they went north, Drake was content to leave themunmolested. Once away into the high latitudes they might go where theywould. Neither Howard nor he, in the low state of their own magazines, desired any unnecessary fighting. If the Armada turned back they mustclose with it. If it held its present course they must follow it tillthey could be assured it would communicate no more for that summer withthe Prince of Parma. Drake thought they would perhaps make for theBaltic or some port in Norway. They would meet no hospitable receptionfrom either Swedes or Danes, but they would probably try. One onlyimminent danger remained to be provided against. If they turned into theForth, it was still possible for the Spaniards to redeem their defeat, and even yet shake Elizabeth's throne. Among the many plans which hadbeen formed for the invasion of England, a landing in Scotland had longbeen the favourite. Guise had always preferred Scotland when it wasintended that Guise should be the leader. Santa Cruz had been in closecorrespondence with Guise on this very subject, and many officers in theArmada must have been acquainted with Santa Cruz's views. The ScotchCatholic nobles were still savage at Mary Stuart's execution, and hadthe Armada anchored in Leith Roads with twenty thousand men, half amillion ducats, and a Santa Cruz at its head, it might have kindled ablaze at that moment from John o' Groat's Land to the Border. But no such purpose occurred to the Duke of Medina Sidonia. He probablyknew nothing at all of Scotland or its parties. Among the manydeficiencies which he had pleaded to Philip as unfitting him for thecommand, he had said that Santa Cruz had acquaintances among the Englishand Scotch peers. He had himself none. The small information which hehad of anything did not go beyond his orange gardens and his tunnyfishing. His chief merit was that he was conscious of his incapacity;and, detesting a service into which he had been fooled by a hystericalnun, his only anxiety was to carry home the still considerable fleetwhich had been trusted to him without further loss. Beyond Scotland andthe Scotch Isles there was the open ocean, and in the open ocean therewere no sandbanks and no English guns. Thus, with all sail set he wenton before the wind. Drake and Howard attended him till they had seenhim past the Forth, and knew then that there was no more to fear. It wastime to see to the wants of their own poor fellows, who had endured sopatiently and fought so magnificently. On the 13th of August they sawthe last of the Armada, turned back, and made their way to the Thames. But the story has yet to be told of the final fate of the great'enterprise of England' (the 'empresa de Inglaterra'), the object of somany prayers, on which the hopes of the Catholic world had been so longand passionately fixed. It had been ostentatiously a religious crusade. The preparations had been attended with peculiar solemnities. In theeyes of the faithful it was to be the execution of Divine justice on awicked princess and a wicked people. In the eyes of millions whoseconvictions were less decided it was an appeal to God's judgment todecide between the Reformation and the Pope. There was anappropriateness, therefore, if due to accident, that other causesbesides the action of man should have combined in its overthrow. The Spaniards were experienced sailors; a voyage round the Orkneys andround Ireland to Spain might be tedious, but at that season of the yearneed not have seemed either dangerous or difficult. On inquiry, however, it was found that the condition of the fleet was seriously alarming. Theprovisions placed on board at Lisbon had been found unfit for food, andalmost all had been thrown into the sea. The fresh stores taken in atCorunna had been consumed, and it was found that at the present ratethere would be nothing left in a fortnight. Worse than all, thewater-casks refilled there had been carelessly stowed. They had beenshot through in the fighting and were empty; while of clothing or othercomforts for the cold regions which they were entering no thought hadbeen taken. The mules and horses were flung overboard, and Scotchsmacks, which had followed the retreating fleet, reported that they hadsailed for miles through floating carcases. The rations were reduced for each man to a daily half-pound of biscuit, a pint of water, and a pint of wine. Thus, sick and hungry, the woundedleft to the care of a medical officer, who went from ship to ship, thesubjects of so many prayers were left to encounter the climate of theNorth Atlantic. The Duke blamed all but himself; he hanged one poorcaptain for neglect of orders, and would have hanged another had hedared; but his authority was gone. They passed the Orkneys in a singlebody. They then parted, it was said in a fog; but each commander had tolook out for himself and his men. In many ships water must be hadsomewhere, or they would die. The _San Martin_, with sixty consorts, went north to the sixtieth parallel. From that height the pilotspromised to take them down clear of the coast. The wind still clung tothe west, each day blowing harder than the last. When they braced roundto it their wounded spars gave way. Their rigging parted. With thegreatest difficulty they made at last sufficient offing, and rolled downsomehow out of sight of land, dipping their yards in the enormous seas. Of the rest, one or two went down among the Western Isles and becamewrecks there, their crews, or part of them, making their way throughScotland to Flanders. Others went north to Shetland or the FaroeIslands. Between thirty and forty were tempted in upon the Irish coasts. There were Irishmen in the fleet, who must have told them that theywould find the water there for which they were perishing, safe harbours, and a friendly Catholic people; and they found either harbours whichthey could not reach or sea-washed sands and reefs. They were allwrecked at various places between Donegal and the Blaskets. Somethinglike eight thousand half-drowned wretches struggled on shore alive. Manywere gentlemen, richly dressed, with velvet coats, gold chains, andrings. The common sailors and soldiers had been paid their wages beforethey started, and each had a bag of ducats lashed to his waist when helanded through the surf. The wild Irish of the coast, tempted by thebooty, knocked unknown numbers of them on the head with theirbattle-axes, or stripped them naked and left them to die of the cold. Onone long sand strip in Sligo an English officer counted eleven hundredbodies, and he heard that there were as many more a few miles distant. The better-educated of the Ulster chiefs, the O'Rourke and O'Donnell, hurried down to stop the butchery and spare Ireland the shame ofmurdering helpless Catholic friends. Many--how many cannot besaid--found protection in their castles. But even so it seemed as ifsome inexorable fate pursued all who had sailed in that doomedexpedition. Alonzo de Leyva, with half a hundred young Spanish nobles ofhigh rank who were under his special charge, made his way in a galleassinto Killibeg. He was himself disabled in landing. O'Donnell receivedand took care of him and his companions. After remaining in O'Donnell'scastle for a month he recovered. The weather appeared to mend. Thegalleass was patched up, and De Leyva ventured an attempt to make hisway in her to Scotland. He had passed the worst danger, and Scotland wasalmost in sight; but fate would have its victims. The galleass struck arock off Dunluce and went to pieces, and Don Alonzo and the princelyyouths who had sailed with him were washed ashore all dead, to find anunmarked grave in Antrim. Most pitiful of all was the fate of those who fell into the hands ofthe English garrisons in Galway and Mayo. Galleons had found their wayinto Galway Bay--one of them had reached Galway itself--the crews halfdead with famine and offering a cask of wine for a cask of water. TheGalway townsmen were human, and tried to feed and care for them. Mostwere too far gone to be revived, and died of exhaustion. Some might haverecovered, but recovered they would be a danger to the State. TheEnglish in the West of Ireland were but a handful in the midst of asullen, half-conquered population. The ashes of the Desmond rebellionwere still smoking, and Dr. Sanders and his Legatine Commission werefresh in immediate memory. The defeat of the Armada in the Channel couldonly have been vaguely heard of. All that English officers could haveaccurately known must have been that an enormous expedition had beensent to England by Philip to restore the Pope; and Spaniards, theyfound, were landing in thousands in the midst of them with arms andmoney; distressed for the moment, but sure, if allowed time to get theirstrength again, to set Connaught in a blaze. They had no fortresses tohold so many prisoners, no means of feeding them, no men to spare toescort them to Dublin. They were responsible to the Queen's Governmentfor the safety of the country. The Spaniards had not come on any errandof mercy to her or hers. The stern order went out to kill them allwherever they might be found, and two thousand or more were shot, hanged, or put to the sword. Dreadful! Yes, but war itself is dreadfuland has its own necessities. The sixty ships which had followed the _San Martin_ succeeded at last ingetting round Cape Clear, but in a condition scarcely less miserablethan that of their companions who had perished in Ireland. Half theircompanies died--died of untended wounds, hunger, thirst, and faminefever. The survivors were moving skeletons, more shadows and ghosts thanliving men, with scarce strength left them to draw a rope or handle atiller. In some ships there was no water for fourteen days. The weatherin the lower latitudes lost part of its violence, or not one of themwould have seen Spain again. As it was they drifted on outside Scillyand into the Bay of Biscay, and in the second week in September theydropped in one by one. Recalde, with better success than the rest, madeCorunna. The Duke, not knowing where he was, found himself in sight ofCorunna also. The crew of the _San Martin_ were prostrate, and could notwork her in. They signalled for help, but none came, and they droppedaway to leeward to Bilbao. Oquendo had fallen off still farther toSantander, and the rest of the sixty arrived in the following days atone or other of the Biscay ports. On board them, of the thirty thousandwho had left those shores but two months before in high hope andpassionate enthusiasm, nine thousand only came back alive--if alive theycould be called. It is touching to read in a letter from Bilbao of theirjoy at warm Spanish sun, the sight of the grapes on the white walls, andthe taste of fresh home bread and water again. But it came too late tosave them, and those whose bodies might have rallied died of brokenhearts and disappointed dreams. Santa Cruz's old companions could notsurvive the ruin of the Spanish navy. Recalde died two days after helanded at Bilbao. Santander was Oquendo's home. He had a wife andchildren there, but he refused to see them, turned his face to the wall, and died too. The common seamen and soldiers were too weak to helpthemselves. They had to be left on board the poisoned ships tillhospitals could be prepared to take them in. The authorities of Churchand State did all that men could do; but the case was past help, andbefore September was out all but a few hundred needed no further care. Philip, it must be said for him, spared nothing to relieve the misery. The widows and orphans were pensioned by the State. The stroke which hadfallen was received with a dignified submission to the inscrutablepurposes of Heaven. Diego Florez escaped with a brief punishment atBurgos. None else were punished for faults which lay chiefly in theKing's own presumption in imagining himself the instrument ofProvidence. The Duke thought himself more sinned against than sinning. He did notdie, like Recalde or Oquendo, seeing no occasion for it. He flung downhis command and retired to his palace at San Lucan; and so far wasPhilip from resenting the loss of the Armada on its commander, that hecontinued him in his governorship of Cadiz, where Essex found him sevenyears later, and where he ran from Essex as he had run from Drake. The Spaniards made no attempt to conceal the greatness of their defeat. Unwilling to allow that the Upper Powers had been against them, they setit frankly down to the superior fighting powers of the English. The English themselves, the Prince of Parma said, were modest in theirvictory. They thought little of their own gallantry. To them the defeatand destruction of the Spanish fleet was a declaration of the Almightyin the cause of their country and the Protestant faith. Both sides hadappealed to Heaven, and Heaven had spoken. It was the turn of the tide. The wave of the reconquest of theNetherlands ebbed from that moment. Parma took no more towns from theHollanders. The Catholic peers and gentlemen of England, who had heldaloof from the Established Church, waiting _ad illud tempus_ for areligious revolution, accepted the verdict of Providence. Theydiscovered that in Anglicanism they could keep the faith of theirfathers, yet remain in communion with their Protestant fellow-countrymen, use the same liturgy, and pray in the same temples. For the first timesince Elizabeth's father broke the bonds of Rome the English became aunited nation, joined in loyal enthusiasm for the Queen, and weresatisfied that thenceforward no Italian priest should tithe or tollin her dominions. But all that, and all that went with it, the passing from Spain toEngland of the sceptre of the seas, must be left to other lectures, orother lecturers who have more years before them than I. My own theme hasbeen the poor Protestant adventurers who fought through that perilousweek in the English Channel and saved their country and their country'sliberty. THE END _Richard Clay & Sons, Limited, London & Bungay. _