Chapter III: Act II

SCENE I.—THE HARBOUR OF SAN JUAN DE ULLOA.

_It is surrounded by high cliffs with batteries_. _An Island at the mouth_. _Spanish and English ships_. _The town_. _Deck of the_ “_Jesus_” _of Lubeck_.—SIR JOHN HAWKINS, DRAKE, HAMPTON, BOLTON. _A Council of War_. _Thunder_! _Lightning_! _Tempest_!

HAWKINS. Comrades, we may well thank God for this refuge. We had a narrow escape in that gale. I thought the “Jesus” of Lubeck would never weather it. Our voyage has been prosperous beyond expectations. Above a million and a half netted, with four hundred Negroes still on hands. To have left it all behind, with our bodies to the sharks, in the Gulf of Mexico, would have been a calamity. Now with our freight of enormous value, even if we were rid of our remaining Negroes, we could not move till we refit. This old hulk in her present condition, would never float to England. Besides, the possibility of falling in with a Spanish fleet—our canvas in rags, and spars in this state. Weigh it well, comrades!—Weigh it well.

BOLTON. This is the very spot for us; we ride here in safety. Neither wind nor sea can touch us. And we are masters of the place. Our guns on the island command the entrance, the town is at our own mercy, the fortified heights are in our hands; we could sink the whole Navy of Spain in five minutes.

DRAKE. I should be very sorry to see the whole Navy of Spain for the present. There are twelve first-rate ships here, and two hundred thousand pounds worth of gold and silver in them, which with what we have already made, and our pearls, emeralds, and precious metals, would be a goodly return—say something like two millions. It would give us some weight in our native country! Heh! (_He walks about with a smile_, _as they stare at him excited_) Why Old England has not seen the like. How jolly Plymouth would shout with all her Tars. By St. George, I think I see the uproar when they should behold our Gallant Navy riding in the Sound. (_He looks at them as they gaze in excitement_—_even_ HAWKINS _is surprised_) It is a great temptation! Philip might threaten. Cecil might grumble and make notes; the Jesuits might plot; but England and our noble Queen would look at us with other eyes. I say, take the treasure and the ships; put the town to ransom; and let us be off! I don’t like the look of the place. Delays are dangerous. Action! action! for me. I hate Spain and her people. Treachery, perfidy, and cruelty make up the mind and character of a Spaniard.

HAWKINS. Hitherto we have acted within law, and under treaty, solemnly made between Spain and England.

DRAKE. I have no faith in and treaty or peace subsisting between the nations (_He comes up to_ HAWKINS, _looks at him archly in the face_. _All observing with great interest_) Why man, you forget the small exchange of national amenities just before our departure.

HAWKINS (_laughing_) Oh! you allude to that Spanish ship which—

DRAKE (_interrupting with comical seriousness_) I mean the Spanish man-of-war, with Flemish prisoners, who came for shelter into Plymouth Harbour. You fired upon her with the Castillian flag at her main; made her haul down her colours, and deliver up her prisoners, which you sent home to fight against Spain. You remember the stir Philip made about it, and when the Queen sent you an angry message (Lord, she never meant it—a mere blind) you audaciously told her that you deserved her thanks for maintaining the honour of the country (_laughter_). You know we sailed under the protest of De Silva and have carried on our trade by force of arms.

BOLTON. We could not venture to sea without repairs. We want at least a week.

HAMPTON. Oh! we could soon victual—seize the ships, levy contributions, put the town to ransom, and make sail.

HAWKINS. But then, you see the Treaty. What would the Council say? What would Cecil say? He is against us as it is. Besides, the legitimate trade we are carrying on—a million! in a single voyage. This in my opinion is better than booty and open war.

DRAKE. Treaty!—Peace!—Legitimate trade!—Hawkins don’t deceive yourself; bits of paper cannot disguise the virulent hostility subsisting between Spain and England. The legitimate trade we are carrying on in ships armed to the teeth! It is nothing but open war—a defiance of Philip and his power. Talk of the Council being against us, and what Cecil may say. (_Contemptuously_). Cecil! who can see no other way to keep up our Navy than an Act of Parliament to compel the Protestant People of England to eat fish. Ha! Ha! Ha! (_laughter in which the crews join_. _With emphasis_). Bluff King Hal and his Parliament, thought Beef at a farthing a pound was the right way to keep up the stout hearts and strong arms of Englishmen, who themselves have ever been the true and only defence of their Country and Freedom. (_He walks aside indignant_. _Laughter_—_caught up and echoed back with tremendous cheers by the sailors around and below decks_). Whenever Britons, in sloth and ignorance shall delegate their duty to a Council, or a Government, they will forfeit their high Destiny—their Commission from on High!—Their safety and their Liberties will sink together in the dust of Rottenness, and the proud Island of the Brave and Free, remain only a bleak, deserted, and ruined rock amid the breakers, a monument of the past; a warning to the future, like Tyre and Carthage, and Great Rome herself. England can only fall through treason and corruption. (_Cheers from the sailors and shouts_).

SAILORS. May God defend us from that. We can defend us from our enemies ourselves, Hurrah!

HAWKINS. The Jesus is a wreck, can scarcely float, her mainmast sprung—she could not go to sea.

DRAKE. Abandon her then.—Here are plenty of ships fit for a voyage, with treasure in them. Take your choice, burn the rest, and make sail with what we have. Put no faith in Spaniards. They will consider the treaty as so much waste paper, when it serves their ends to do so. They fear and hate us, and neither bonds nor treaties will stop them in their vengeance. Our only treaty to rely on is in ourselves when we are too strong for them—God grant it may ever be so—or woe to Merry England.

HAWKINS. Abandon the Jesus! You forget that she is the Queen’s ship—the only one in the expedition. Do you know the temper of our good Queen? She will expect her ship back, and also her share of the profit. What if, instead, I should bring the Kingdom under heavy demands from Philip for our infraction of the Treaty; I ask you, do you know her temper, or what her Royal and gentle Majesty would say? Heh!

DRAKE (_laughing as at a joke_). Fire and Steel! I should think I did, Ha! Ha! Ha! I know our Royal Mistress well. Her Majesty is a good Protestant, but she has two idols set up in her heart, whose worship she will never abandon for any other creed, “ambition and avarice;” the love of power, and the love of gold. Give her these, what cares she for an old hulk. Let her know that her heroes can sweep the seas, that we defy, and soon shall break the force of haughty Spain. Above all, drench her with gold and show me the power on earth that can drag it from her. (_He walks aside with his hands up_). She will swallow man the gold of the Indies, but believe me, disgorge it, never. Temper! Fire and Steel! I think I see her temper on the receipt of a dispatch from Philip, that clerk king, whose sceptre is his pen with which he dooms brave men to death, and nations to slavery, whilst he himself, the veriest slave to Monks and Priests, delegates the authority of his high office to what he calls the Holy House of the inquisition. Restitution forsooth! What she would say! “God’s death,” she would exclaim, “Is the fellow a fool, to ask me for money? Let him catch Hawkins and Drake, and the rest of the freebooters himself, and take what satisfaction he can out of them.” That is pretty much what she would say. But if he should come himself to demand it, I think she would be very likely to box his Royal ears for him, and tell him to go and be hanged, as she did the stout Earl of Essex, when he had the impudence to turn his back upon her. (_Laughter_.)

HAWKINS. This is bold advice, Drake, but I do not like the responsibility.

DRAKE. Responsibility! To whom? To our Queen? She will hold us responsible, only for failure in our enterprise. In plain words, for bringing home no money. Besides, she has no jurisdiction here, nor are we sailing under her flag, or the authority of a Lord High Admiral, or his Court. We Rovers sail under our own red bunting, acknowledging no Courts; and fight our way, not palter about Treaties. Law cannot defend us; should the Spaniards but get us into their clutches, would they vouchsafe to us, trial in a lawful court? No! We should have neither law nor mercy. The Inquisition! Torture! the Auto-de-fe, that is fire and faggot, would be our lot. For my part, I will acknowledge no responsibility, but to God, upon His own ocean! So long as I live, I shall consider it my best duty to him, to make war upon Spaniards, who are alike his enemies and ours. Is that monster Philip without other motive than the impulse of a cruel nature, to sit unopposed in his cabinet like a spider weaving his webs of slavery for mankind, to monopolise the earth’s surface with all the gold in its bosom, and the whole ocean as well? Why not its circumambient air, that we may ask his leave to breathe? I tell you, Hawkins, that whilst I can muster a keel, and men and Britons to man it, I shall ask no licence from mortal man; I shall boldly take my share of its wild waves, in spite of all the Despots in the world, and claim it as my patrimony from God! (_He turns away in great excitement_.)

_The report of a solitary gun booms along the water_, _and cuts short the debate_. _They are all startled_, _but before there is time for utterance_, _it is followed by a discharge from the batteries on the island_, _and successive volleys from a number of Ships in the offing_.

HAWKINS, (_in alarm_), What can this mean? Those are no signal guns, no friendly salutes.

HAMPTON. No, General, no blank cartridges there! The report is too sharp; it has the ring of metal. We are surprised. It is time to get ready, and stand by our guns; it must be a Spanish fleet!

HAWKINS. God grant it be not the outward bound fleet of Spain, we must keep them out. Get ready my pinnace! Bear a hand! We must be off to the island, and see to this. Get your ships under weigh, and stand by, to dispute the mouth of the harbour. (_Exeunt_.)

SCENE II.—AN ISLAND WITH BATTERIES COMMANDING THE MOUTH OF THE HARBOUR.

_The Spanish fleet of thirteen sail_, _sent out expressly to look for_ HAWKINS, _and to treat him as a pirate_. _The English forbid entrance_. _A party of Spaniards_, _with the Spanish Ambassador and the new Viceroy of Spain_, _under a flag of truce_, _await the arrival of the English Commander to treat_.

Enter Sir JOHN HAWKINS, DRAKE, HAMPTON, BOLTON, and others.

SPANISH AMBASSADOR. Have I the honour to address the great, invincible and renowned, Sir John Hawkins, whose fame is throughout the world?

HAWKINS. Your excellency has before you the Admiral and the gallant Captains of a small English fleet, bound on a trading voyage, put in under stress of weather, to victual and re-fit; and for our own security, during the time we find it necessary to occupy the harbour, we intend to prevent the entry of armed vessels.

AMBASSADOR (_amazed_). But we are the fleet of His Majesty the King of Spain, carrying a thousand soldiers, thirteen galleons with others their consorts and tenders. I have the honour to be his Ambassador, and this is his viceroy, with authority to govern his possessions in the New World. Allow me to present to you Don Martini Henriqnez, viceroy of all the Indies. (_Hawkins bows_.) This is His Majesty’s town and dominions, and we claim not only free entrance, but entire jurisdiction. The nations are at peace, and we concede to you the right freely to occupy it as friends, to trade and re-fit, with freedom of departure. What would you more?

HAWKINS. True, your Excellency, the nations are nominally at peace, but we Englishmen have been in these times of peace treated as worse than enemies in war. We have been attacked by ships carrying the Castillian flag, thrown into prison, tortured, famished in dungeons, given over to the inquisition, to fire and faggot, contrary to the law of nations, and to actual treaty. We must take care of ourselves. Either you shall force an entrance at the cannon’s mouth, which you will not find a very easy matter, or you enter on such conditions as I shall dictate. That we have liberty to trade, victual, and re-fit, and to depart without hindrance or molestation, that the fortifications remain in our hands, and that you give hostages, as a guarantee for their fulfillment.

AMBASSADOR. This, Senor, is a very serious matter. It is against law, reason, and justice that we should be under conditions imposed by a foreigner who has no claim or authority here, to enter our own possessions. I do not know how I should answer to my Royal Master, should I so far compromise his authority and right, conceding to a stranger, the privilege of dictating conditions to our ships in our own waters.

HAWKINS. Nor I to answer to my Royal Mistress for the loss of her ships and men by any laxity or cowardice on my part in not defending them. We Englishmen are accustomed to consider our duty to our country paramount over all else, to fight under the national flag till Death or Victory; never to yield a point in debate or battle, but to stick to our guns, and No Surrender!

ENGLISH ALL. No Surrender! No Surrender!

HAWKINS. Your Excellencies, and you Senores, you see your choice. Either you fight or depart, or enter on our conditions.

AMBASSADOR. I shall retire if you please, and consult with his Excellency. (_Exeunt Spaniards_. _English laughing_).

HAWKINS (_laughing_). Well, Comrades, I think I have settled their Excellencies; what think you? They must be off. If they meant fighting, they would have boldly entered like men, and asked no one’s leave. They dare not enter into conditions. Philip would execute them all, and rightly too, the poltrons. It would be complete surrender of his authority.

HAMPTON. It is not long you would have hesitated with such a fleet, General! I think with you, they will be off if the gale will allow them to weather the headlands. Lord! you frightened them; they turned pale at your very look. That’s the way to talk to them. No backing and filling; no hauling of tacks and sheets with Spaniards. A straight course, good headway; with half a gale blowing. That’s what they can’t stand. (_He walks aside haughtily_).

BOLTON. General, you have spoken like a Tar, and an Englishman. I call that sailing to half a point of the compass. (_Turning to_ HAMPTON). I am like you, Hampton, for carrying all sail, and keeping the red flag flying. Damn their thirteen ships and their new Viceroy Don Martini Henriquez, too, with his thousand soldiers. What’s all that to us? We can soon settle accounts with them, and their odds.—I never once thought of counting the number of Spaniards or Frenchmen, or of their ships either. Before we shall have sunk or burned the half of them, it will be very difficult to find the other half. We are not only a match for them on the open sea, but here they are at our mercy, keep them out, and then the gale will do for them.

DRAKE. Well said, Old Rough and Ready, you know how to deal with Spaniards. If you trust them, Hawkins, you will rue it all your life. (_Exeunt_).

SCENE III.—HARBOUR OF SAN JUAN DE ULLOA.

_The Spaniards during the night have got possession of the batteries on the heights_, _filled with men a hulk close to the Minion_, _in order to board her_. _Their fleet of thirteen large ships arranged for action_; _their guns brought to bear on the English_, _who are unprepared_; _many of their men having been decoyed into the town_, _the battle commences with an attack on these_. _The English fight their way to their boats_, _and pull for their ships_. _The Council of War on the deck of the Jesus see it and get ready for action_.

_Enter_ HAWKINS, DRAKE, BOLTON, and HAMPTON.

HAWKINS. Comrades! This harbour of San Juan de Ulloa wears a different face this morning from that it bore when we last surveyed its beauties from this deck; and doubtless inspires you all with altered feelings. With what hope we entered it, as the last waves of the angry sea broke vainly in our wake, and when we dropped anchor, our shattered barks rode easy as seagulls on the waters of the peaceful bay. We congratulated ourselves on our escape from danger—on the profits of a successful voyage—and we surveyed the beauteous landscape in comfort and security. How vain the dream! How changed the reality!

BOLTON. Glad as I was then, General, of its friendly shelter, I would rather the fiercest gale that ever howled its threats in the open ocean, than behold that thunder-cloud gathering over our heads (_he points to the batteries_). How did they get possession of these forts?

HAWKINS. Our men, deceived by pretended friendship, cajoled by favour, and seduced by the fascinations of the Creole women, have been allured into the town. During the night the enemy seized the batteries.

DRAKE (_looking towards the town_). They are reaping the bitter fruits of disobedience now, or I am much mistaken. (_Shouts_, _tumult_, _and confusion of a multitude intermingled with shots and cheers come from the shore_.) Hark to that! It is an English cheer and an angry one! It cuts sharp and clear like the tone of a fife through the roar of battle.

_Shouts of_ SAILORS ON SHORE. Hurrah for Moone! Stick to them boys! Hurrah!

DRAKE. That’s Moone in the front; how he wields his axe! He cleaves them like sheep in the slaughter house. That’s big Jack Winter, with the boat-hook; he handles it as if it were a quarterstaff. How he scatters the little Spaniards! Brave boys, lay on!

BOLTON. The crowd falls back before these two men, (_great excitement on board the Jesus_). Our fellows have the best of it. They have gained their boats and are pulling for their ships. (_Shouts continue_, _the sailors in the boats hail_).

SAILORS IN THE BOATS. “Jesus a-hoy.” (_The sailors on board begin to crowd the deck in great excitement and prepare to cheer_).

HAWKINS. Hush! No cheers as you value our safety. Silence! Silence in the ship! Boatswain, all hands to quarters in silence. Men to the guns, deck watch, stand by to get under weigh. (_He rushes about to restore order_).

HAMPTON. Could not our fellows by a sudden charge surprise the forts?

HAWKINS (_With assumed confidence_). It is too late, alas! But I signed the treaty with an Ambassador of Spain, and with Philip’s Viceroy of all the Indies. We have their honour and the credit of their nation for its fulfilment. Upon its conditions I gave them entry into the harbour, and saved them from destruction. Suppose they have got possession of the batteries, they are bound to give us safe and peaceable right to victual and re-fit, with freedom of departure.

DRAKE. Oh Hawkins, delusion, mere delusion! A treaty when you have not the means to enforce it. There is not a moment to waste. Action! Action! (_With energy_) Prepare for instant battle, or it will be every way too late.

HAMPTON. They are getting into line with springs on their cables, so that every gun may bear.

DRAKE. And the batteries, they are pointing the guns on us. Look there Hawkins. You have the weather gage, make for them under all sail; with the command of the wind, you can give a double broadside. Set your ship on fire, and run her aboard the Admiral. In the confusion take to your boats and pull for the Minion. We shall pepper away, and get to sea. On the blue water our legs will be too long for them, should they dare to follow us. Goodbye, God bless you, Hawkins, should we not meet again, (_they shake hands_). No surrender. Victory or death. (_Exeunt_ DRAKE, HAMPTON, _and_ BOLTON.) (_Scene changes_.)

SCENE IV.—THE BATTLE OF SAN JUAN DE ULLOA.

_The harbour filled with burning ships_. _The Jesus is aboard the Spanish Admiral_, _both in flames_, _yet still fighting broadside to broadside_. _Three hundred Spaniards attempting to board the Minion from a hulk are being repulsed_. _The Jesus and the Minion in font_. _The Spanish fleet at the back_. _Deck of the Jesus_.

HAWKINS. Blaze away, my sea-dogs, stick to the Admiral. Don’t let him out clear. Hurrah! upon bows and guns. (_He turns towards the Minion_.) See! They are on the deck of the Minion. Hurrah for Hampton! Stick to them gallant tars. Pike, axe, and cutlass, follow me. (_He rushes at their head through the pinnace on to the deck of the Minion_, _shouts and cheers as they clamber over the bulwarks_). Hah! Minion to the rescue! Down with the traitors! Down with the villains, Hah! the axe of Moone! Great Winter, hurl them overboard with a run. Brave men, strong men, hurrah for merry England, the day is ours, God gives us the victory; Hurrah! Hurrah! (_with great eagerness_). Look to the deck of the Jesus, Hampton. How well our men behave. Fire upon the Admiral, ply shot and shaft. (_They shoot_) Hah! The long bow of England against the world. These are the scorpions that sting our foes. My gallant fellows have done their work, they are both blazing. It’s all up there, keep the Spaniards in confusion and let our men get away. (_They are crowding into their pinnace and leaping overboard_). Boats and spars for those that are in the water. (_Men run about with spars_).

HAMPTON. Out with the sweeps and try to crawl ahead, we shall fall in with a cap-full of wind, once clear of the vibration of the guns.

HAWKINS. Now serve out the ale. (_Leaning exhausted against the main-mast_, _he calls to his cupbearer for Ale_). Samuel, fill me a cup of ale, for my very soul is exhausted, but I thank God for this deliverance, (_his cupbearer hands him a silver goblet_, _he comes forward and poises it in the air_). Here’s to our Noble Queen and her heroic Tars! (_He quaffs the Ale and lays down the goblet_, _which a cannon shot dashes to pieces the moment his hand quits it_, CAPTAIN HAMPTON _rushing forward to assist him_).

HAMPTON. Are you hurt, General? That was a narrow escape, but we are accustomed to such chances.

HAWKINS. It was the will of God, Hampton—a warning voice to give him the glory. There is no such thing as chance. He has not done with me yet. (_Look_, _he looks around._) But we are all right now. Avast rowing, let us have a view of the battle-field. Heavens! what a wreck, they are utterly disabled. (_The harbour is strewn with wreck_. _The Spanish fleet is blazing_; _some driven ashore_, _some sunk_, _the masts and flags appearing above water_).

HAMPTON. The Jesus is burned to the water-mark, but she has done her work. She has set fire to the Admiral, the flame has spread. They are all either destroyed by fire, shot to pieces, or driven ashore. It is truly marvellous how so small a force should destroy a powerful fleet like that. You ought to have taken Drake’s advice to seize them with all their arms, ships, treasure, and batteries of the place; then we should have been masters of Spain and the Ocean.

HAWKINS. Let us be satisfied. You see I was hampered with the Treaty, and our undetermined, perhaps divided Government.

HAMPTON. Say the traitors in the Government!—Damn the Government!—Damn the Treaty!—But as you have said, General, perhaps we should be satisfied with our lives. There is Drake and the Judith ahead. Pull away my boys, there is not a breath.—What a lull the storm of battle leaves, as if the very Ocean quailed. Hurrah upon the starboard sweeps! Hurrah! (_the ship is drawn off_, _the Orchestra striking up_ “_Rule Britannia_.”)

_Curtain falls_.