Chapter XVI (2)

Drake was now reduced to his own vessel, the _Golden Hinde_, which was obliged to seek shelter on the coast of Terra del Fuego. The winds again forced him from his anchorage, and his shallop, with eight men on board, and provisions for only one day, was separated from him. The fate of these poor fellows was tragical. They regained the straits, where they caught and salted a quantity of penguins, and then coasted up South America to the Plata. Six of them landed, and while searching for food in the forests, encountered a party of Indians, who wounded all of them with their arrows, and secured four, pursuing the others to the boat. These latter reached the two men in charge, but before they could put off, all were wounded by the natives. They, however, succeeded in reaching an island some distance from the mainland, where two of them died from the injuries received, and the boat was wrecked and beaten to pieces on the rocks. The remaining two stopped on the island eight weeks, living on shell-fish and a fruit resembling an orange, but could find no water. They at length ventured to the mainland on a large plank some ten feet in length, which they propelled with paddles; the passage occupied three days. “On coming to land,” says Carter, the only survivor, “we found a rivulet of sweet water; when William Pitcher, my only comfort and companion (although I endeavoured to dissuade him) overdrank himself, and to my unspeakable grief, died within half an hour.” Carter himself fell into the hands of some Indians, who took pity on him, and conducted him to a Portuguese settlement. Nine years elapsed before he was able to regain his own country.

Meantime Drake was driven so far to the southward, that at length he “fell in with the uttermost part of the land towards the South Pole,” or in other words, reached Cape Horn. The storm had lasted with little intermission for over seven weeks. “Drake went ashore, and, sailor-like, leaning over a promontory, as far as he safely could, came back and told his people how that he had been farther south than any man living.” At last the wind was favourable, and he coasted northward, along the American shore, till he reached the island of Mocha, where the Indians appeared at first to be friendly, and brought off potatoes, roots, and two fat sheep, for which they received recompense. But on landing for the purpose of watering the ship, the natives shot at them, wounding every one of twelve men, and Drake himself under the right eye. In this case no attempt was made at retaliation. The Indians doubtless took them for Spaniards. Drake, continuing his voyage, fell in with an Indian fishing from a canoe, who was made to understand their want of provisions, and was sent ashore with presents. This brought off a number of natives with supplies of poultry, hogs, and fruits, while Felipe, one of them who spoke Spanish, informed Drake that they had passed the port of Valparaiso—then an insignificant settlement of less than a dozen Spanish families—where a large ship was lying at anchor. Felipe piloted them thither, and they soon discovered the ship, with a meagre crew of eight Spaniards and four negroes on board. So little was an enemy expected, that as Drake’s vessel approached, it was saluted with beat of drum, and a jar of Chili wine made ready for an hospitable reception. But Drake and his men wanted something more than bumpers of wine, and soon boarded the vessel, one of the men striking down the first Spaniard he met, and exclaiming, “_Abaxo perro!_” (Down, dog!) Another of the crew leaped overboard and swam ashore to give an alarm to the town; the rest were soon secured under hatches. The inhabitants of the town fled incontinently, but the spoils secured there were small. The chapel was rifled of its altar-cloth, silver chalice, and other articles, which were handed over to Drake’s chaplain; quantities of wine and other provisions were secured. The crew of the prize, with the exception of the Greek pilot, were set ashore, and Drake left with his new acquisition, which when examined at sea was found to contain one thousand seven hundred and seventy jars of wine, sixty thousand pieces of gold, some pearls, and other articles of value. The Indian who had guided them to this piece of good fortune, was liberally rewarded.

At a place called Tarapaca, whither they had gone to water the ship, they found a Spaniard lying asleep, and keeping very bad guard over thirteen bars of silver, worth four thousand ducats. Drake determined to take care of it for him. At a short distance off, they encountered another, who, with an Indian, was driving eight llamas, each carrying a hundredweight of silver. It is needless to say that the llamas were conveyed on board, _plus_ the silver. At Arica two ships were found at anchor, one of which yielded forty bars of silver, and the other a considerable quantity of wine. But these were as trifles to that which followed.

Drake had pursued a leisurely course, but in spite of this fact, no intelligence of the pirate’s approach had reached Lima. The term “pirate” is used advisedly, for whatever the gain to geographical science afforded by his voyages, their chief aim was spoil, and it mattered nothing whether England was at war with the victims of his prowess or not. A few leagues off Callao harbour (the port of Lima), Drake boarded a Portuguese vessel: the owner agreed to pilot him into Callao, provided his cargo was left him. They arrived at nightfall, “sailing in between all the ships that lay there, seventeen in number,” most of which had their sails ashore, for the Spaniards had had, as yet, no enemies in those waters. They rifled the ships of their valuables, and these included a large quantity of silk and linen, and one chest of silver reales. But they heard that which made their ears tingle, and inflamed their desires for gain; the _Cacafuego_, a great treasure ship, had sailed only a few days before for a neighbouring port. Drake immediately cut the cables of the ships at Lima, and let them drive, that they might not pursue him. “While he was thus employed, a vessel from Panama, laden with Spanish goods, entered the harbour, and anchored close by the _Golden Hinde_. A boat came from the shore to search it; but because it was night, they deferred the search till the morning, and only sent a man on board. The boat then came alongside Drake’s vessel, and asked what ship it was. A Spanish prisoner answered, as he was ordered, that it was Miguel Angel’s, from Chili. Satisfied with this, the officer in the boat sent a man to board it; but he, when on the point of entering, perceived one of the large guns, and retreated in the boat with all celerity, because no vessels that frequented that port, and navigated those seas, carried great shot.” The crew of the Panama ship took alarm when they observed the rapid flight of the man, and put to sea. The _Hinde_ followed her, and the Spanish crew abandoned their ship, and escaped ashore in their boat. The alarm had now been given in Lima, and the viceroy dispatched two vessels in pursuit, each having two hundred men on board, but no artillery. The Spanish commander, however, showed no desire to tackle Drake, and he escaped, taking shortly afterwards three tolerable prizes, one of which yielded forty bars of silver, eighty pounds’ weight of gold, and a golden crucifix, “set with goodly great emeralds.” One of the men having secreted two plates of gold from this prize, and denied the theft, was immediately hanged.

But it was the _Cacafuego_ that Drake wanted, and after crossing the line he promised to give his own chain of gold to the first man who should descry her. On St. David’s Day, the coveted prize was discovered from the top, by a namesake of the commander, one John Drake. All sail was set, but an easy capture was before them; for the Spanish captain, not dreaming of enemies in those latitudes, slackened sail, in order to find out what ship she was. When they had approached near enough, Drake hailed them to strike, which being refused, “with a great piece he shot her mast overboard, and having wounded the master with an arrow, the ship yielded.” Having taken possession, the vessels sailed in company far out to sea, when they stopped and lay by. She proved a prize indeed: gold and silver in coin and bars, jewels and precious stones amounting to three hundred and sixty thousand pieces of gold were taken from her. The silver alone amounted to a value in our money of £212,000. It is stated that Drake called for the register of the treasure on board, and wrote a receipt for the amount! The ship was dismissed, and Drake gave the captain a letter of safe conduct, in case she should fall in with his consorts. This, as we know, was impossible.

Drake’s plain course now was to make his way home, and he wisely argued that it would be unsafe to attempt the voyage by the route he had come, as the Spaniards would surely attack him in full force, the whole coast of Chili and Peru being aroused to action. He conceived the bold notion of rounding North America: in other words, he proposed to make that passage which has been the great dream of Arctic explorers, and which has only, as we shall hereafter see, been once made (and that in a very partial sense) by Franklin and M’Clure. His company agreed to his views: firstly to refit, water, and provision the ship in some convenient bay; “thenceforward,” says one of them, “to hasten on our intended journey for the discovery of the said passage, through which we might with joy return to our longed homes.” They sailed for Nicaragua, near the mainland of which they found a small island with a suitable bay, where they obtained wood, water, and fish. A small prize was taken while there, having on board a cargo of sarsaparilla, which they disdained, and butter and honey, which they appropriated. Drake now sailed northward, and most undoubtedly reached the grand bay of San Francisco. Californian authorities concede this. The “Drake’s Bay” of the charts is an open roadstead, and does not answer the descriptions given of the great navigator’s visit. He had peaceful interviews with the natives, and took possession, in the fashion of those days, of the country, setting up a monument of the queen’s “right and title to the same, namely, a plate nailed upon a fair great post, whereupon was engraven her Majesty’s name, the day and year of our arrival there, ... together with her highness’s picture and arms in a piece of _sixpence_ (!) of current English money under the plate, where under also was written the name of our general.” History does not tell us the fate of that sixpence, but the title, New Albion, bestowed on the country by Drake, remained on the maps half way into this century, or just before the discovery of gold in California. The natives regarded the English with superstitious awe, and could not be prevented from offering them sacrifices, “with lamentable weeping, scratching, and tearing the flesh from their faces with their nails, whereof issued abundance of blood.” “But we used,” says the narrator quoted by Hakluyt, “signs to them of disliking this, and stayed their hands from force, and directed them upwards to the living God, whom only they ought to worship.” After remaining there five weeks, Drake took his departure, and the natives watched the ships sadly as they sailed, and kept fires burning on the hill-tops as long as they continued in sight. “Good store of seals and birds” were taken from the Farralone Islands. Many an egg has the writer eaten, laid by the descendants of those very birds: they are supplied in quantities to the San Francisco markets. Drake’s attempt at the northern passage was now abandoned.

Sixty-eight days was Drake’s ship—containing one of the most valuable freights ever held in one bottom—in the open sea, during which time no land was sighted; at the end of this period the Pelew, Philippine, and Molucca Islands were successively reached. At Ternate, Drake sent a velvet cloak as a present to the king, requesting provisions, and that he might be allowed to trade for spices. The king was amiable and well disposed; he sent before him “four great and large canoes, in every one whereof were certain of his greatest states that were about him, attired in white lawn of cloth of Calicut, having over their heads, from the one end of the canoe to the other, a covering of thin perfumed mats, borne up with a frame made of reeds for the same use, under which every one did sit in his order, according to his dignity, to keep him from the heat of the sun. * * * The rest were soldiers which stood in comely order, round about on both sides; without whom sat the rowers in certain galleries, which being three on a side all along the canoes, did lie off from the side thereof three or four yards, one being orderly builded lower than another, in every of which galleries were fourscore rowers. These canoes were furnished with warlike munitions, every man, for the most part, having his sword and target, with his dagger, besides other weapons, as lances, calivers, darts, bows and arrows; also every canoe had a small cast-base (or cannon) mounted at the least one full yard upon a stock set upright.” These canoes or galleys were rowed about the ship, those on board doing homage as they passed. The king soon arrived in state, and was received “with a salute of great guns, with trumpets sounding, and such politic display of state and strength as Drake knew it was advisable to exhibit.” Many presents were made to the king, who in return sent off provisions of rice, fowls, fruits, sugar-cane, and “imperfect and liquid sugar” (presumably molasses). Next day there was a grand reception ashore; the king, covered with gold and jewels, under a rich canopy embossed with gold, professing great friendship. The fact was that his own father had been assassinated by the Portuguese, and he himself had besieged and taken their Fort St. Paul’s, and compelled them to leave it. He was, doubtless, anxious for some alliance which might strengthen his hands against the Portuguese. Drake, however, had no commission, nor desire at that time to engage his country to any such treaty; his principal object now was to get home safely with his treasure. He, however, successfully traded for a quantity of cloves and provisions.

Off Celebes, the _Hinde_ became entangled among the shoals, and while running under full sail, suddenly struck on a rock, where she stuck fast. Boats were got out to see whether an anchor might not be employed to draw the ship off, but the water all round was very deep, no bottom being found. Three tons of cloves, eight guns, and certain stores were thrown overboard, but to no purpose. Fuller says quaintly, that they “threw overboard as much wealth as would break the heart of a miser to think on’t; with much sugar, and packs of spices, making a caudle of the sea round about. Then they betook themselves to their prayers, the best lever at such a dead lift indeed, and it pleased God that the wind, formerly their mortal enemy, became their friend.”(142) To the joy of all, the _Hinde_ glided off the rocks, and almost uninjured. On the way home they visited Barateva, Java, the Cape, and Sierra Leone, being singularly fortunate in avoiding the Portuguese and Spanish ships. The _Hinde_ arrived safely at Plymouth on September 26th, 1580, having been nearly three years on her eventful voyage. Drake was received with great honour, and was knighted by the queen. She gave orders that his little ship should be laid up at Deptford, and there carefully preserved as a monument of the most remarkable voyage yet made. Elizabeth honoured Drake by banqueting on board, and his fame spread everywhere through the kingdom. The boys of Westminster School set up some Latin verses on the mainmast, of which Southey gives the following free translation—

“On Hercules’ Pillars, Drake, thou may’st _plus ultra_ write full well,
And say, I will in greatness that great Hercules excel.”

And again—

“Sir Drake, whom well the world’s end knows, which thou didst compass
round,
And whom both poles of heaven once saw which north and south do bound,
The stars above will make thee known if men here silent were;
The sun himself cannot forget his fellow-traveller.”

Drake’s series of victories over the Spaniards, and the repulse which occurred just before his death are details of history which would fill a volume. He received a sailor’s funeral at Puerto Bello, his body being committed to the deep in a leaden coffin, with the solemn service of the English Church, rendered more impressive by volleys of musketry, and the booming of guns from all the fleet. A poet of the day says—

“The waves became his winding sheet, the waters were his tomb;
But for his fame the ocean sea was not sufficient room.”

No single name in naval history has ever attained the celebrity acquired by Drake. The Spaniards, who called him a dragon, believed that he had dealings with the devil; “that notion,” says Southey, “prevented them from feeling any mortification at his successes, * * * and it enhanced their exultation over the failure of his last expedition, which they considered as the triumph of their religion over heresy and magic.” The common people in England itself, more especially in the western counties, believed any quantity of fables concerning him, some of them verging on childishness. He had only to cast a chip in the water when it would become a fine vessel. “It was not by his skill as an engineer, and the munificent expenditure of the wealth which he had so daringly obtained, that Drake supplied Plymouth with fresh water; but by mounting his horse, riding about Dartmoor till he came to a spring sufficiently copious for his design, then wheeling round, pronouncing some magical words, and galloping back into the town, with the stream in full flow, and forming its own channel at the horse’s heels.” One of the popular stories regarding him is briefly as follows. When Sir Francis left on one of his long voyages, he told his wife that should he not return within a certain number of years she might conclude that he was dead, and might, if she so chose, wed again. One version places the time at seven, and another at ten years. During these long years the excellent lady remained true to her lord, but at the end of the term accepted an offer. “One of Drake’s ministering spirits, whose charge it was to convey to him any intelligence in which he was nearly concerned, brought him the tidings. Immediately he loaded one of his great guns, and fired it right through the globe on one side, and up on the other, with so true an aim that it made its way into the church, between the two parties most concerned, just as the marriage service was beginning. ‘It comes from Drake!’ cried the wife to the now unbrided bridegroom; ‘he is alive! and there must be neither troth nor ring between thee and me.’”

Drake is described as of low stature, but well set, and of an admirable presence. His chest was broad, his hair nut-brown, his beard handsome and full, his head “remarkably round,” his eyes large and clear, his countenance fresh, cheerful and engaging. “It has been said of him that he was a willing hearer of every man’s opinion, but commonly a follower of his own,” which, as a rule, was really sure to be judicious. He had a quick temper, and once offended, was “hard to be reconciled,” but his friendships were firm; he was ambitious to the last degree, and “the vanity which usually accompanies that sin laid him open to flattery.” He was affable with his men, who idolised him as the grand commander and skilful seaman that he most undoubtedly was.

In spite of the rich prizes so often taken, a competent authority says: “The expeditions undertaken in Elizabeth’s reign against the Spaniards are said to have produced no advantage to England in any degree commensurate with the cost of money and expense of life with which they were performed.” But we must never forget the wonderful development of the navy which resulted; the splendid training acquired by our sailors, and the grand gains to geographical science.

The opening of colonisation and trade with America—so far as England is concerned—is due to Sir Humphrey Gilbert, and his step-brother, Sir Walter Raleigh. From their comparatively insignificant attempts at settling parts of that vast northern continent what grand results have accrued! The acorn has become a mighty, wide-spreading oak, sheltering the representatives of every nationality.

When Sir Humphrey Gilbert proposed to Queen Elizabeth the settlement of a colony in the New World, she immediately assented, and granted him letters patent as comprehensive and wide-spreading as ever issued by papal sanction. She accorded free liberty to him, his heirs and assigns for ever, to discover and take possession of any heathen and savage lands not being actually possessed by any Christian prince or people; such countries, and all towns, castles or villages, to be holden by them of the crown, payment of a fifth of all the gold and silver ore discovered being required by the latter. The privileges seemed so great that “very many gentlemen of good estimation drew unto Sir Humphrey to associate with him in so commendable an enterprise.” But divisions and feuds arose, and Gilbert went to sea only to become involved in a “dangerous sea-fight, in which many of his company were slain, and his ships were battered and disabled.” He was compelled to put back “with the loss of a tall ship.” The records of this encounter are meagre, but the disaster retarded for the time his attempt at colonisation, besides impairing his estate.

Sir Humphrey’s patent was only for six years, unless he succeeded in his project, and in 1583 he found means to equip a second expedition, to which Raleigh contributed a bark of 200 tons, named after him, the little fleet numbering in all five vessels. The queen had always favoured Gilbert, and before he departed on this voyage, sent him a golden anchor with a large pearl on it, by the hands of Raleigh. In the letter accompanying it, Raleigh wrote, “Brother, I have sent you a token from her Majesty—an anchor guided by a lady, as you see. And, further, her highness willed me to send you word, that she wished you as great a good hap and safety to your ship, as if she herself were there in person, desiring you to have care of yourself as of that which she tendereth; and, therefore, for her sake you must provide for it accordingly. Further she commandeth that you leave your picture with me.” Elizabeth’s direct interest in the rapidly increasing maritime and commercial interests of the day was very apparent in all her actions.

_Bark Raleigh_ was the largest vessel of the expedition, two of the others being of forty, and one of twenty tons only. The number of those who embarked was about 260, and the list included carpenters, shipwrights, masons, and smiths; also “mineral men and refiners.” It is admitted that among them there were many “who had been taken as pirates in the narrow seas, instead of being hanged according to their deserts.” “For solace of our people,” says one of the captains under Gilbert, “and allurement of the savages, we were provided of music in good variety, not omitting the least toys, as morris-dancers, hobby-horse, and May-like conceits to delight the savage people, whom we intended to win by all fair means possible.” The period of starting being somewhat late in the season, it was determined to sail first for Newfoundland instead of Cape Florida, as at the former Gilbert knew that he could obtain abundant supplies from the numerous ships employed in the abundant cod-fisheries. The voyage was to commence in disaster. They sailed on June 11th, and two days later the men of the _Bark Raleigh_ hailed their companions with the information that their captain and many on board were grievously sick. She left them that night and put back to Plymouth, where, it is stated, she arrived with a number of the crew prostrated by a contagious disease. Some mystery attaches to this defection; “the others proceeded on their way, not a little grieved with the loss of the most puissant ship in their fleet.” Two of the fleet parted company in a fog; one of them was found in the Bay of Conception, her men in new apparel and particularly well provided, the secret being that they had boarded an unfortunate Newfoundland ship on the way, and had pretty well rifled it, not even stopping at torture where the wretched sailors had objected to be stripped of their possessions. The other vessel was found lying off the harbour of St. John’s, where at first the English merchants objected to Gilbert’s entry, till he assured them that he came with a commission from her Majesty, and had no ill-intent. On the way in, his vessel struck on a rock, whereupon the other captains sent to the rescue, saved the ship, and fired a salute in his honour. His first act was to tax all the ships for his own supply; the Portuguese, in particular, contributed liberally, so that the crews were “presented, above their allowances, with wines, marmalades, most fine rusk or biscuit, sweet oil, and sundry delicacies.” Then the merchants and masters were assembled to hear his commission read, and possession of the harbour and country for 200 leagues every way was taken in the name of the queen. A wooden pillar was erected on the spot, and the arms of England, engraved on lead, were affixed. The lands lying by the water side were granted to certain of the adventurers and merchants, they covenanting to pay rent and service to Gilbert, his heirs and assigns for ever.

Some of the before-mentioned pirates of the expedition gave Sir Humphrey a considerable amount of trouble while at St. John’s, some deserting, and others plotting to steal away the shipping by night. A number of them stole a ship laden with fish, setting the crew on shore. When ready to sail, he found that there were not sufficient hands for all his vessels, and the _Swallow_ was left for the purpose of transporting home a number of the sick. He selected for himself the smallest of his fleet, the _Squirrel_, described as a “frigate” of ten tons, as most suitable for exploring the coasts. But that which made him of good heart was a sample of silver ore which one of his miners had discovered; “he doubted not to borrow £10,000 of the queen, for his next voyage, upon the credit of this mine.”

For eight days they followed the coast towards Cape Breton, at the end of which time the wind rose, bringing thick fog and rain, so that they could not see a cable’s length before them. They were driven among shoals and breakers, and their largest ship was wrecked in a moment. “They in the other vessel,” says Hayes,(143) “saw her strike, and her stern presently beaten to pieces; whereupon the frigate in which was the general, and the _Golden Hinde_ cast about, even for our lives, into the wind’s eye, because that way carried us to the seaward. Making out from this danger, we sounded one while seven fathoms, then five, then four, and less; again deeper, immediately four fathom, then but three, the sea going mightily and high. At last we recovered (God be thanked!) in some despair to sea room enough. All that day, and part of the night, we beat up and down as near unto the wreck as was possible, but all in vain. This was a heavy and grievous event to lose our chief ship, freighted with great provision; but worse was the loss of our men, to the number of almost a hundred souls; amongst whom was drowned a learned man, an Hungarian, born in the city of Buda, called thereof Budæus, who out of piety and zeal to good attempts, adventured in this action, minding to record in the Latin tongue, the gests and things worthy of remembrance happening in this discovery to the honour of our nation. Here, also, perished our Saxon refiner, and discoverer of inestimable riches. Maurice Brown, the captain, when advised to shift for his life in the pinnace, refused to quit the ship, lest it should be thought to have been lost through his default. With this mind he mounted upon the highest deck, where he attended imminent death and unavoidable,—how long, I leave it to God, who withdraweth not his comfort from his servants at such a time.” Of the company only ten were saved in a small pinnace which was piloted to Newfoundland.

Meantime, on board the remaining vessels, there was much suffering, and Sir Humphrey was obliged to yield to the general desire, and sail for England, having “compassion upon his poor men, in whom he saw no lack of good will, but of means fit to perform the action they came for.” He promised his subordinate officers to set them forth “royally the next spring,” if God should spare them. But it was not so to be.

Sir Humphrey Gilbert was entreated, when one day he had come on board the _Hinde_, to remain there, instead of risking himself “in the frigate, which was overcharged with nettage, and small artillery,” to which he answered, “I will not forsake my little company going homewards, with whom I have passed so many storms and perils.” A short time afterwards, while experiencing “foul weather and terrible seas, breaking short and high, pyramidwise, men which all their life had occupied the sea never saw it more outrageous,” the frigate was nearly engulfed, but recovered. Gilbert, sitting abaft with a book in his hand, cried out to the crew of the _Hinde_ in the following noble words, so often since recorded in poetry and prose: “Courage, my lads! We are as near to heaven by sea as by land!” That same night the lights of the little vessel were suddenly missed, and Gilbert and his gallant men were engulfed in the depths for ever. Of such men we may appropriately say with the poet Campbell—

“The deck it was their field of fame,
And Ocean was their grave.”

The _Hinde_ reached Falmouth in safety, though sadly shattered and torn.

But the spirit of enterprise then prevailing was not to be easily quashed, and only a few months after the failure of poor Gilbert’s enterprise, we find Sir Walter Raleigh in the field. He obtained letters of patent similar to those before mentioned, and was aided by several persons of wealth, particularly Sir Richard Greenville and Mr. William Saunderson. Two barks, under Captains Amadas and Barlow, were sent to a part of the American continent north of the Gulf of Florida, and after skirting the coast for one hundred and twenty miles, a suitable haven was found, the land round which was immediately taken for the queen with the usual formalities. After sundry minor explorations they returned to England, where they gave a glowing account of the country. It was “so full of grapes that the very beating and surge of the sea overflowed them.” The vegetation was so rich and abundant that one of the captains thought that “in all the world the like abundance is not to be found,” while the woods were full of deer and smaller game. The cedars were “the highest and reddest in the world,” while among smaller trees was that bearing “the rind of black cinnamon.” The inhabitants were kind and gentle, and void of treason, “handsome and goodly people in their behaviour, as mannerly and civil as any of Europe.” It is true that “they had a mortal malice against a certain neighbouring nation; that their wars were very cruel and bloody, and that by reason thereof, and of civil dissensions which had happened of late years amongst them, the people were marvellously wasted, and in some places the country left desolate.” These little discrepancies were passed over, and Elizabeth was so well pleased with the accounts brought home, that she named the country Virginia; not merely because it was discovered in the reign of a virgin queen, but “because it did still seem to retain the virgin purity and plenty of the first creation, and the people their primitive innocence.” These happy natives were described as living after the manner of the golden age; as free from toil, spending their time in fishing, fowling, and hunting, and gathering the fruits of the earth, which ripened without their care. They had no boundaries to their lands, nor individual property in cattle, but shared and shared alike. All this, which was rather too good to be absolutely true, seems to have been implicitly believed. The letters of patent, however, granted to poor Sir Humphrey Gilbert, and subsequently to Sir Walter Raleigh, mark a most important epoch in the world’s history, for from those small starting-points date the English efforts at colonising America—the great New World of the past, the present, and the future. Where then a few naked savages lurked and lazed, fished and hunted, forty millions of English-speaking people now dwell, whose interests on and about the sea, rising in importance every day, are scarcely excelled by those of any nation on the globe, except our own. Some points in connection with this colonisation, bearing as they do on the history of the sea and maritime affairs, will be treated in the succeeding volume.

The reader, who while living “at home in ease,” has voyaged in spirit with the writer over so much of the globe’s watery surface, visiting its most distant shores, will not be one of those who under-rate

“The dangers of the seas.”

Nor will current events allow us to forget them. “The many voices” of ocean—as Michelet puts it—its murmur and its menace, its thunder and its roar, its wail, its sigh, rise from the watery graves of six hundred brave men, who but a few weeks ago formed the bulk of two crews, the one of a noble English frigate, the other a splendid German ironclad, both lost within sight of our own shores. Early in this volume wooden walls were compared with armoured vessels, and we are painfully reminded by the loss of both the _Eurydice_ and _Grosser Kurfüst_ how unsettled is the question in its practical bearings. Its discussion must also be resumed as a part of the history of ships and shipping in the ensuing volume. Till then, kind reader, adieu!

END OF VOLUME I.

CASSELL, PETTER, GALPIN & CO., BELLE SAUVAGE WORKS, LONDON, E.C.

FOOTNOTES

1 Milton.

2 Pindar.

3 “La Mer.” There is much truth in Michelet’s charming work, but
often, as above, presented in an exaggerated form. Animals, in
reality, soon become accustomed to the sea. They show generally,
however, a considerable amount of indisposition to go on board a
vessel.

4 W. S. Lindsay, “History of Merchant Shipping,” &c.

5 Southey, in his “Life of Nelson,” says nine.

6 “Songs for Sailors.”

7 Southey’s “Life of Nelson.”

8 “Annals of the Wars of the Nineteenth Century,” by the Hon. Sir
Edward Cust, D.C.L., &c.

9 Brialmont, “Étude sur la Défense des Etats et sur la Fortification.”

10 The Turks had at Sinope seven frigates, one sloop, two corvettes,
and two transports. The Russians were stronger, but this did not
determine the battle; their success was won because they were well
supplied with large shells and shell-guns, while the Turks had
nothing more effective than 24-pounders. Their wooden vessels were
speedily on fire, and the Russians won an easy success. Shells were
no novelty, yet a great sea-fight had never before been, as it was
then, won by their exclusive agency.

11 The Hon. S. J. G. Calthorpe, “Letters from Head-quarters.”

12 The seven Russian ships sunk at the entrance of the harbour of
Sebastopol were of no small size or value, and they were scuttled in
a hurry so great that they had all their guns, ammunition, and
stores on board, and their rigging standing. They comprised five
line-of-battle ships, two of them eighty, two eighty-four, and one
120 guns, and two frigates of forty guns; a total of 528 guns.
Afterwards it became a common report that vessels had been disabled
and sunk in the harbour. On the night of the 5th of September, just
before the evacuation of the town, two large Russian men-of-war
caught fire and burned fiercely, illumining the harbour and town,
and causing great excitement, as an omen of coming doom. The night
of the memorable 8th, when the Russians gave up all further idea of
resistance, and left the town to take care of itself, witnessed the
sinking of the remainder of the Black Sea fleet. So far, therefore,
the presence of our fleet had a pronounced moral effect, without
involving further loss of life.

13 Cust, “Annals of the Wars of the Eighteenth Century.”

14 Drinkwater, “Siege of Gibraltar.”

15 Some have even gone so far as to consider Louis Napoleon the
inventor of iron-plated and armoured vessels. This is absurd. The
ancients knew the use of plates of iron or brass for covering ships
of war and battering-rams. One of Hiero’s greatest galleys was
covered that way. That it must come to this sooner or later was the
published idea of many, both in this country and in France. The
Emperor’s sagacity, however, was always fully alive to questions of
the kind.

16 The report of the Chief Engineer and Naval Constructor of the
Confederate Service, in regard to the conversion of the _Merrimac_
into an armoured vessel, distinctly stated that from the effects of
fire she was “useless for any other purpose, without incurring a
very heavy expense for rebuilding.”

17 The official reports state that she was plated, many popular
accounts averring that she was only covered with “railroad iron.”
The information presented here is drawn from the following
sources:—“The Rebellion Record,” a voluminous work, edited by Frank
Moore, of New York, and which contains all the leading official
war-documents, both of the Federals and Confederates; the statement
of Mr. A. B. Smith, pilot of the _Cumberland_, one of the survivors
of the fight; the Baltimore _American_, and the Norfolk _Day Book_,
both newspapers published near the scene of action. There is great
unanimity in the accounts published on both sides.

18 The pilot of the _Cumberland_.

19 “Finally, after about three-fourths of an hour of the most severe
fighting, our vessel sank, the Stars and Stripes still waving. That
flag was finally submerged; but after the hull grounded on the
sands, fifty-four feet below the surface of the water, our pennant
was still flying from the top mast above the waves.” (The Pilot of
the _Cumberland’s_ Narrative.)

20 The original _Monitor_, from which that class of vessel took its
name.

21 Account of eyewitnesses furnished to the Baltimore _American_.

_ 22 Vide_ the _Times_, 17th July, 1877.

23 Berlin correspondence of the _Times_, 31st July, 1877.

24 The full official account has not yet been issued. The brief
narrative presented here is derived principally from the lively and
interesting series of letters from the pen of Lord George Campbell;
from “The Cruise of H.M.S. _Challenger_,” by W. J. J. Spry, R.N.,
one of the engineers of the vessel; and the Nautical and other
scientific and technical magazines.

25 The Austrian frigate _Novara_ made, in 1857-8-9, a voyage round “and
about” the world of 51,686 miles. As it was a sailing vessel, no
reliable results could be expected from their deep-sea soundings,
and, in fact, on the only two occasions when they attempted anything
very deep, their lines broke.

26 The “sinkers” were usually allowed at the rate of 112 lb. for each
1,000 fathoms.

27 Most of the recorded examples of earlier deep-sea soundings have
little scientific value. Unless the sounding-line sinks
perpendicularly, and the vessel remains stationary—to do which she
may have to steam against wind and tide or current—it must be
evident that the data obtained are not reliable. From a sailing
vessel it is impossible to obtain absolutely reliable soundings
except in, say, a tideless lake, unruffled by wind. It is very
evident that if the sounding line drags after or in any direction
from the vessel, the depth indicated may be greatly in excess of the
true depth; indeed, it may be double or treble in some cases. There
is one recorded example of a depth of 7,706 fathoms having been
obtained, which too evidently comes under this category. After
several years’ soundings on the part of the _Challenger_ and the
United States vessel _Tuscarora_, it has become probable that no
part of the ocean has a depth much greater than 4,500 fathoms. But
even this is upwards of five miles!

28 In their popular works on the sea, “The Ocean World,” and “The World
of the Sea.”

29 “Log Letters from the _Challenger_.”

30 All readers will remember Peter Simple, and how he tells us that “It
has been from time immemorial the heathenish custom to sacrifice the
greatest fool of the family to the prosperity and naval superiority
of the country,” and that he personally “was selected by general
acclamation!” Marryat knew very well, however, that it was “younger
sons,” and not by any means necessarily the greatest fools of the
family who went to sea.

31 William Pitt, long Master-Attendant at Jamaica Dockyard, who died at
Malta, in 1840. The song is often wrongly attributed to Dibdin, or
Tom Hood the elder.

32 Alphonse Esquiros, “English Seamen and Divers.”

33 “Westward Ho!”

34 Robert Mindry, “Chips from the Log of an Old Salt.”

35 The conditions for entering a Government training-ship for the
service involve, 1st, the consent of parents or proper guardians;
2nd, the candidate must sign to serve ten years commencing from the
age of eighteen. A bounty of £6 is paid to provide outfit, and he
receives sixpence a day. At the age of eighteen he receives one
shilling and a penny per day—the same as an ordinary seaman. Each
candidate passes a medical examination, and must be from fifteen to
sixteen and a half years of age. The standard height is five feet
for sixteen years old—rather a low average.

36 In “Singleton Fontenoy, R.N.”

_ 37 Vide_ “The Queen’s Regulations and the Admiralty Instructions for
the Government of Her Majesty’s Naval Service;” also Glascock’s
“Naval Officer’s Manual.”

38 “A Sailor-Boy’s Log-Book from Portsmouth to the Peiho,” edited by
Walter White.

39 A naval friend kindly informs me that the Malta holystones are
excellent, natural lava being abundant.

_ 40 Vide_ Dana’s “Seaman’s Manual.”

41 A form of heavy pile silk.

42 “Medical Life in the Navy,” by W. Stables, M.D., &c.

43 Portsmouth, Devonport, Plymouth, and some Cornish seaport towns and
villages were the chief sufferers. Plymouth had furnished more than
one-third of the crew.

44 None of the survivors appeared to know whether the _Captain’s_ screw
was revolving at the time. Her steam was partially up. Had she
steamed, there is every probability that the catastrophe would not
have occurred.

45 One man testified that he had heard Captain Burgoyne’s inquiries as
to how much the ship was heeling over, the answers given being
respectively, “18,” “23,” “25 degrees.” The movement was never
checked, and almost the moment after she had reached 25 degrees, she
was keel-uppermost, and about to make that terrific plunge to the
bottom.

46 Mr. May’s statement at the court-martial was in part as
follows:—“Shortly after 0.15 a.m. on the 7th inst., being in my
cabin, which was on the starboard or lee side of the ship, I was
disturbed in my sleep by the noise of some marines. Feeling the ship
uneasy, I dressed myself, and took the lantern to look at the guns
in the turrets.... It was but a very short time—from fifteen to
twenty minutes—past midnight. I then went to the after-turret. The
guns were all right. Immediately I got inside the turret I felt the
ship heel steadily over, deeper and deeper, and a heavy sea struck
her on the weather-side. _The water flowed into the turret_ as I got
through the pointing-hole on the top, and I found myself overboard;
I struck out, and succeeded in reaching the steam-pinnace, which was
bottom up, on which were Captain Burgoyne and five or six others. I
saw the ship turn bottom-up, and sink stern first, the last I saw of
her being her bows. The whole time of her turning over to sinking
was but from five to ten minutes, if so much. Shortly after, I saw
the launch drifting close to us who were on the pinnace; she was but
a few yards from us; I called out, ‘Jump, men—it is your last
chance!’ I jumped, and succeeded, with three others, in reaching
her. I do not know for certain whether Captain Burgoyne jumped or
not. I was under the impression he did; but the others in the launch
do not think so. At any rate, he never reached her. When on the
pinnace, a large ship, which I believe to have been the
_Inconstant_, passed us fifty yards to leeward. We all hailed her;
but, I suppose, the howling of the wind and sea prevented their
hearing us.”

47 The late Admiral Sherard Osborn, in a letter to the _Times_, said,
“The desire of our Admiralty to make all their fighting-ships cruise
under canvas, as well as steam, induced poor Captain Coles to go a
step further, and to make a ship with a low free board a
sailing-ship.” This was against his judgment, however.

48 Admiral Milne, in his despatch dated from H.M.S. _Lord Warden_, off
Finisterre, September 7th, 1870, stated that, at a little before 1
a.m., the _Captain_ was astern of his ship, “apparently closing
under steam. The signal ‘open order’ was made, and at once answered;
and at 1.15 a.m. she was on the _Lord Warden’s_ (the flag-ship’s)
lee quarter, about six points abaft the beam. From that time until
about 1.30 a.m. I constantly watched the ship.... She was heeling
over a good deal to starboard,” &c. We have seen that she went down
shortly after the midnight watch had been called.

49 A “Narrative of the Loss of the _Royal George_,” published at
Portsea, and written by a gentleman who was on the island at the
time.

50 The exact number was never known. There were 250 women on board, a
large proportion of whom were the wives and relatives of the
sailors; and there were also a number of children, most of whom
belonged to Portsmouth. Besides these, there were a number of Jew
and other traders on board.

51 Mr. Ingram, whose narrative, printed in the little work before
quoted, bears all the impress of truth.

52 The sentence of the court-martial blamed Captain Dawkins, his
navigating-lieutenant, and the ship’s carpenter, for not
endeavouring to stop “the breach from the outside with the means at
their command, such as hammocks and sails;” for not having “ordered
Captain Hickley, of H.M.S. _Iron Duke_, to tow H.M.S. _Vanguard_
into shallow water,” such being available at a short distance; the
chief-engineer for not “applying the means at his command to relieve
the ship of water;” the navigating-lieutenant “for neglect of duty
in not pointing out to his captain that there was shoaler water
within a short distance;” and the carpenter in “not taking immediate
steps for sounding the compartments, and reporting from time to time
the progress of the water.” A lamentable showing, truly, if all
these points were neglected! So far as the commander is concerned,
his successful efforts to save the lives of all on board (not
knowing when his ship might go down, and with the remembrance of the
sudden loss of the _Captain_ full in view) speak much in his favour,
and in extenuation of much that would otherwise appear culpable
neglect.

53 Nineteen fathoms, or 114 feet. Her main-topmast-head was afterwards
twenty-four feet out of water.

54 The total estimated loss was £550,000.

55 Mr. Ward Hunt said publicly that, “If the _Iron Duke_ had sent an
enemy’s ship to the bottom, we should have called her one of the
most formidable ships of war in the world, and all that she has done
is actually what she was intended to do, _except, of course, that
the ship she struck was unfortunately our own property, and not that
of the enemy_.”

56 Mr. Reed wrote to the _Times_ to the effect that there would,
undoubtedly, be a “greater measure of safety during a naval
engagement than on ordinary occasions,” and explained that “the
ruling consideration which has been aimed at in these ships has been
so to divide them into compartments, that, when all the water-tight
doors and valves are arranged as they would be on going into action,
the breach by a ram of one compartment only should not suffice to
sink the ship.”

57 Sir Henry James, Attorney-General to the previous Government, spoke
publicly on the subject in the plainest terms. He said:—“One would
have thought that if there were a court-martial on the vessel which
is lost, the officers of the vessel which caused that loss would not
go scot free.” The Admiralty was blamed for not having sent the
decision of the Court back to it for reconsideration, instead of
which they broke a rule of naval etiquette, and seemed anxious to
quash inquiry.

58 “The loss of the _Kent_, East Indiaman,” by Lieut.-General Sir
Duncan MacGregor, K.C.B.

59 The raft is described in the original work on the shipwreck of the
_Medusa_ substantially as follows:—It was composed of topmasts,
yards, planks, the boom, &c., lashed strongly together; two topmasts
formed the sides, and four other masts, of the same length as the
former, were placed in the centre, planks being nailed on them. Long
timbers were placed across the raft, adding considerably to its
strength; these projected about ten feet on each side. There was a
rail along the sides, to keep those on board from falling into the
sea. Its height being only about a foot and a half, it was
constantly under water, though this could easily have been remedied,
by raising a second floor a foot or two above it. Two of the ship’s
yards, joined to the extremities of the sides, at one end met in
front and formed a bow. Its length was sixty feet, and breadth about
twenty.

60 Later it took with many of them still stranger forms. One M. Savigny
had the most agreeable visions; he fancied himself in a rich and
highly-cultivated country, surrounded by happy companions. Some
desired their companions not to fear, that they were going to look
for succour, and would soon return; they then plunged into the sea.
Others became furious, and rushed on their companions with drawn
swords, asking for the wing of a chicken, or some bread. Some,
thinking themselves still aboard the frigate, asked for their
hammock, that they might go below to sleep. Others imagined that
they saw ships, or a harbour, behind which was a noble city. M.
Correard believed he was in Italy, enjoying all the delights of that
beautiful country. One of the officers said to him, “I recollect
that we have been deserted by the boats, but don’t be afraid; I have
just written to the governor, and in a few hours we shall be in
safety.” These illusions did not last for any length of time, but
were constantly broken by the war of the elements, and the fitful
revolts which constantly disgraced the company.

61 The writer, during a long voyage (England to Vancouver Island, _viâ_
Cape Horn), made in 1862, saw flying-fish constantly falling on the
deck, where they remained quivering and glittering in the sunlight.
To accomplish this, they had to fly over a height of about fifteen
or sixteen feet, the top of the bulwarks, or walls of the steamship,
being at least that distance above the water.