Westward Ho! Or, The Voyages and Adventures of Sir Amyas Leigh, Knight, of Burrough, in the County of Devon, in the Reign of Her Most Glorious Majesty Queen Elizabeth

by Charles Kingsley

  CHAPTER XIII

  HOW THE GOLDEN HIND CAME HOME AGAIN

  "The spirits of your fathers Shall start from every wave; For the deck it was their field of fame, And ocean was their grave."

  CAMPBELL.

  "So you see, my dear Mrs. Hawkins, having the silver, as your own eyesshow you, beside the ores of lead, manganese, and copper, and above allthis gossan (as the Cornish call it), which I suspect to be not merelythe matrix of the ore, but also the very crude form and materia primaof all metals--you mark me?--If my recipes, which I had from Doctor Dee,succeed only half so well as I expect, then I refine out the luna, thesilver, lay it by, and transmute the remaining ores into sol, gold.Whereupon Peru and Mexico become superfluities, and England the mistressof the globe. Strange, no doubt; distant, no doubt: but possible, mydear madam, possible!"

  "And what good to you if it be, Mr. Gilbert? If you could find aphilosopher's stone to turn sinners into saints, now--but naught saveGod's grace can do that; and that last seems ofttimes over long incoming." And Mrs. Hawkins sighed.

  "But indeed, my dear madam, conceive now.--The Comb Martin mine thusbecomes a gold mine, perhaps inexhaustible; yields me wherewithal tocarry out my North-West patent; meanwhile my brother Humphrey holdsNewfoundland, and builds me fresh ships year by year (for the forests ofpine are boundless) for my China voyage."

  "Sir Humphrey has better thoughts in his dear heart than gold, Mr.Adrian; a very close and gracious walker he has been this seven year. Iwish my Captain John were so too."

  "And how do you know I have naught better in my mind's eye than gold?Or, indeed, what better could I have? Is not gold the Spaniard'sstrength--the very mainspring of Antichrist? By gold only, therefore,can we out-wrestle him. You shake your head, but say, dear madam (forgold England must have), which is better, to make gold bloodlessly athome, or take it bloodily abroad?"

  "Oh, Mr. Gilbert, Mr. Gilbert! is it not written, that those who makehaste to be rich, pierce themselves through with many sorrows? Oh, Mr.Gilbert! God's blessing is not on it all."

  "Not on you, madam? Be sure that brave Captain John Hawkins's startold me a different tale, when I cast his nativity for him.--Born understormy planets, truly, but under right royal and fortunate ones."

  "Ah, Mr. Adrian! I am a simple body, and you a great philosopher, butI hold there is no star for the seaman like the Star of Bethlehem; andthat goes with 'peace on earth and good will to men,' and not with sucharms as that, Mr. Adrian. I can't abide to look upon them."

  And she pointed up to one of the bosses of the ribbed oak-roof, on whichwas emblazoned the fatal crest which Clarencieux Hervey had grantedyears before to her husband, the "Demi-Moor proper, bound."

  "Ah, Mr. Gilbert! since first he went to Guinea after those poornegroes, little lightness has my heart known; and the very day that thatcrest was put up in our grand new house, as the parson read the firstlesson, there was this text in it, Mr. Gilbert, 'Woe to him thatbuildeth his house by iniquity, and his chambers by wrong. Shalt thoulive because thou closest thyself in cedar?' And it went into my earslike fire, Mr. Gilbert, and into my heart like lead; and when the parsonwent on, 'Did not thy father eat and drink, and do judgment and justice?Then it was well with him,' I thought of good old Captain Will; and--Itell you, Mr. Gilbert, those negroes are on my soul from morning untilnight! We are all mighty grand now, and money comes in fast, but theLord will require the blood of them at our hands yet, He will!"

  "My dearest madam, who can prosper more than you? If your husband copiedthe Dons too closely once or twice in the matter of those negroes (whichI do not deny,) was he not punished at once when he lost ships, men, allbut life, at St. Juan d'Ulloa?"

  "Ay, yes," she said; "and that did give me a bit of comfort, especiallywhen the queen--God save her tender heart!--was so sharp with him forpity of the poor wretches, but it has not mended him. He is growing fastlike the rest now, Mr. Gilbert, greedy to win, and niggardly to spend(God forgive him!) and always fretting and plotting for some new gain,and envying and grudging at Drake, and all who are deeper in thesnare of prosperity than he is. Gold, gold, nothing but gold inevery mouth--there it is! Ah! I mind when Plymouth was a quiet littleGod-fearing place as God could smile upon: but ever since my John, andSir Francis, and poor Mr. Oxenham found out the way to the Indies, it'sbeen a sad place. Not a sailor's wife but is crying 'Give, give,' likethe daughters of the horse-leech; and every woman must drive herhusband out across seas to bring her home money to squander on hoods andfarthingales, and go mincing with outstretched necks and wanton eyes;and they will soon learn to do worse than that, for the sake of gain.But the Lord's hand will be against their tires and crisping-pins, theirmufflers and farthingales, as it was against the Jews of old. Ah, dearme!"

  The two interlocutors in this dialogue were sitting in a lowoak-panelled room in Plymouth town, handsomely enough furnished, adornedwith carving and gilding and coats of arms, and noteworthy for manystrange knickknacks, Spanish gold and silver vessels on the sideboard;strange birds and skins, and charts and rough drawings of coast whichhung about the room; while over the fireplace, above the portrait of oldCaptain Will Hawkins, pet of Henry the Eighth, hung the Spanish ensignwhich Captain John had taken in fair fight at Rio de la Hacha fifteenyears before, when, with two hundred men, he seized the town in despiteof ten hundred Spanish soldiers, and watered his ship triumphantly atthe enemy's wells.

  The gentleman was a tall fair man, with a broad and lofty forehead,wrinkled with study, and eyes weakened by long poring over the crucibleand the furnace.

  The lady had once been comely enough, but she was aged and worn, assailors' wives are apt to be, by many sorrows. Many a sad day had shehad already; for although John Hawkins, port-admiral of Plymouth, andpatriarch of British shipbuilders, was a faithful husband enough, andas ready to forgive as he was to quarrel, yet he was obstinate andruthless, and in spite of his religiosity (for all men were religiousthen) was by no means a "consistent walker."

  And sadder days were in store for her, poor soul. Nine years hence shewould be asked to name her son's brave new ship, and would christen itThe Repentance, giving no reason in her quiet steadfast way (so saysher son Sir Richard) but that "Repentance was the best ship in whichwe could sail to the harbor of heaven;" and she would hear that QueenElizabeth, complaining of the name for an unlucky one, had re-christenedher The Dainty, not without some by-quip, perhaps, at the characterof her most dainty captain, Richard Hawkins, the complete seaman andEuphuist afloat, of whom, perhaps, more hereafter.

  With sad eyes Mrs. (then Lady) Hawkins would see that gallant bark sailWestward-ho, to go the world around, as many another ship sailed; andthen wait, as many a mother beside had waited, for the sail which neverreturned; till, dim and uncertain, came tidings of her boy fighting forfour days three great Armadas (for the coxcomb had his father's heart inhim after all), a prisoner, wounded, ruined, languishing for weary yearsin Spanish prisons. And a sadder day than that was in store, when agallant fleet should round the Ram Head, not with drum and trumpet, butwith solemn minute-guns, and all flags half-mast high, to tell herthat her terrible husband's work was done, his terrible heart broken byfailure and fatigue, and his body laid by Drake's beneath the far-offtropic seas.

  And if, at the close of her eventful life, one gleam of sunshine openedfor a while, when her boy Richard returned to her bosom from his Spanishprison, to be knighted for his valor, and made a privy councillor forhis wisdom; yet soon, how soon, was the old cloud to close in againabove her, until her weary eyes should open in the light of Paradise.For that son dropped dead, some say at the very council-table, leavingbehind him naught but broken fortunes, and huge purposes which neverwere fulfilled; and the stormy star of that bold race was set forever,and Lady Hawkins bowed her weary head and died, the groan of thosestolen negroes ringing in her ears, having lived long enough to see herhusband's youthful sin become a national institution, and a nationalcurse for generations yet
unborn.

  I know not why she opened her heart that night to Adrian Gilbert, witha frankness which she would hardly have dared to use to her own family.Perhaps it was that Adrian, like his great brothers, Humphrey andRaleigh, was a man full of all lofty and delicate enthusiasms, tenderand poetical, such as women cling to when their hearts are lonely; butso it was; and Adrian, half ashamed of his own ambitious dreams, satelooking at her a while in silence; and then--

  "The Lord be with you, dearest lady. Strange, how you women sit at hometo love and suffer, while we men rush forth to break our hearts andyours against rocks of our own seeking! Ah well! were it not forScripture, I should have thought that Adam, rather than Eve, had beenthe one who plucked the fruit of the forbidden tree."

  "We women, I fear; did the deed nevertheless; for we bear the doom of itour lives long."

  "You always remind me, madam, of my dear Mrs. Leigh of Burrough, and hercounsels."

  "Do you see her often? I hear of her as one of the Lord's most preciousvessels."

  "I would have done more ere now than see her," said he with a blush,"had she allowed me: but she lives only for the memory of her husbandand the fame of her noble sons."

  As he spoke the door opened, and in walked, wrapped in his roughsea-gown, none other than one of those said noble sons.

  Adrian turned pale.

  "Amyas Leigh! What brings you hither? how fares my brother? Where is theship?"

  "Your brother is well, Mr. Gilbert. The Golden Hind is gone on toDartmouth, with Mr. Hayes. I came ashore here, meaning to go north toBideford, ere I went to London. I called at Drake's just now, but he wasaway."

  "The Golden Hind? What brings her home so soon?"

  "Yet welcome ever, sir," said Mrs. Hawkins. "This is a great surprise,though. Captain John did not look for you till next year."

  Amyas was silent.

  "Something is wrong!" cried Adrian. "Speak!"

  Amyas tried, but could not.

  "Will you drive a man mad, sir? Has the adventure failed? You said mybrother was well."

  "He is well."

  "Then what--Why do you look at me in that fashion, sir?" and springingup, Adrian rushed forward, and held the candle to Amyas's face.

  Amyas's lip quivered, as he laid his hand on Adrian's shoulder.

  "Your great and glorious brother, sir, is better bestowed than insettling Newfoundland."

  "Dead?" shrieked Adrian.

  "He is with the God whom he served!"

  "He was always with Him, like Enoch: parable me no parables, if you loveme, sir!"

  "And, like Enoch, he was not; for God took him."

  Adrian clasped his hands over his forehead, and leaned against thetable.

  "Go on, sir, go on. God will give me strength to hear all."

  And gradually Amyas opened to Adrian that tragic story, which Mr. Hayeshas long ago told far too well to allow a second edition of it from me:of the unruliness of the men, ruffians, as I said before, caught up athap-hazard; of conspiracies to carry off the ships, plunder of fishingvessels, desertions multiplying daily; licenses from the general to thelazy and fearful to return home: till Adrian broke out with a groan--

  "From him? Conspired against him? Deserted from him? Dotards, buzzards!Where would they have found such another leader?"

  "Your illustrious brother, sir," said Amyas, "if you will pardon me, wasa very great philosopher, but not so much of a general."

  "General, sir? Where was braver man?"

  "Not on God's earth, but that does not make a general, sir. If Cortezhad been brave and no more, Mexico would have been Mexico still. Thetruth is, sir, Cortez, like my Captain Drake, knew when to hang a man;and your great brother did not."

  Amyas, as I suppose, was right. Gilbert was a man who could be angryenough at baseness or neglect, but who was too kindly to punish it; hewas one who could form the wisest and best-digested plans, but who couldnot stoop to that hail-fellow-well-met drudgery among his subordinateswhich has been the talisman of great captains.

  Then Amyas went on to tell the rest of his story; the setting sail fromSt. John's to discover the southward coast; Sir Humphrey's chivalrousdetermination to go in the little Squirrel of only ten tons, and"overcharged with nettings, fights, and small ordnance," not onlybecause she was more fit to examine the creeks, but because he had heardof some taunt against him among the men, that he was afraid of the sea.

  After that, woe on woe; how, seven days after they left Cape Raz, theirlargest ship, the Delight, after she had "most part of the night" (Iquote Hayes), "like the swan that singeth before her death, continued insounding of trumpets, drums, and fifes, also winding of the comets andhautboys, and, in the end of their jollity, left off with the battle anddoleful knells," struck the next day (the Golden Hind and the Squirrelsheering off just in time) upon unknown shoals; where were lost all butfourteen, and among them Frank's philosopher friend, poor Budaeus; andthose who escaped, after all horrors of cold and famine, were cast onshore in Newfoundland. How, worn out with hunger and want of clothes,the crews of the two remaining ships persuaded Sir Humphrey to sailtoward England on the 31st of August; and on "that very instant, even inwinding about," beheld close alongside "a very lion in shape, hair, andcolor, not swimming, but sliding on the water, with his whole body; whopassed along, turning his head to and fro, yawning and gaping wide,with ugly demonstration of long teeth and glaring eyes; and to bid usfarewell (coming right against the Hind) he sent forth a horrible voice,roaring or bellowing as doth a lion." "What opinion others had thereof,and chiefly the general himself, I forbear to deliver; but he took itfor bonum omen, rejoicing that he was to war against such an enemy, ifit were the devil."

  "And the devil it was, doubtless," said Adrian, "the roaring lion whogoes about seeking whom he may devour."

  "He has not got your brother, at least," quoth Amyas.

  "No," rejoined Mrs. Hawkins (smile not, reader, for those were days inwhich men believed in the devil); "he roared for joy to think how manypoor souls would be left still in heathen darkness by Sir Humphrey'sdeath. God be with that good knight, and send all mariners where he isnow!"

  Then Amyas told the last scene; how, when they were off the Azores, thestorms came on heavier than ever, with "terrible seas, breaking shortand pyramid-wise," till, on the 9th September, the tiny Squirrel nearlyfoundered and yet recovered; "and the general, sitting abaft with abook in his hand, cried out to us in the Hind so oft as we did approachwithin hearing, 'We are as near heaven by sea as by land,' reiteratingthe same speech, well beseeming a soldier resolute in Jesus Christ, as Ican testify he was.

  "The same Monday, about twelve of the clock, or not long after, thefrigate (the Squirrel) being ahead of us in the Golden Hind, suddenlyher lights were out; and withal our watch cried, the general was castaway, which was true; for in that moment the frigate was devoured andswallowed up of the sea."

  And so ended (I have used Hayes' own words) Amyas Leigh's story.

  "Oh, my brother! my brother!" moaned poor Adrian; "the glory of hishouse, the glory of Devon!"

  "Ah! what will the queen say?" asked Mrs. Hawkins through her tears.

  "Tell me," asked Adrian, "had he the jewel on when he died?"

  "The queen's jewel? He always wore that, and his own posy too, 'Mutarevel timere sperno.' He wore it; and he lived it."

  "Ay," said Adrian, "the same to the last!"

  "Not quite that," said Amyas. "He was a meeker man latterly than he usedto be. As he said himself once, a better refiner than any whom he had onboard had followed him close all the seas over, and purified him in thefire. And gold seven times tried he was, when God, having done His workin him, took him home at last."

  And so the talk ended. There was no doubt that the expedition hadbeen an utter failure; Adrian was a ruined man; and Amyas had lost hisventure.

  Adrian rose, and begged leave to retire; he must collect himself.

  "Poor gentleman!" said Mrs. Hawkins; "it is little else he has left tocollect."


  "Or I either," said Amyas. "I was going to ask you to lend me one ofyour son's shirts, and five pounds to get myself and my men home."

  "Five? Fifty, Mr. Leigh! God forbid that John Hawkins's wife shouldrefuse her last penny to a distressed mariner, and he a gentleman born.But you must eat and drink."

  "It's more than I have done for many a day worth speaking of."

  And Amyas sat down in his rags to a good supper, while Mrs. Hawkins toldhim all the news which she could of his mother, whom Adrian Gilbert hadseen a few months before in London; and then went on, naturally enough,to the Bideford news.

  "And by the by, Captain Leigh, I've sad news for you from your place;and I had it from one who was there at the time. You must know a Spanishcaptain, a prisoner--"

  "What, the one I sent home from Smerwick?"

  "You sent? Mercy on us! Then, perhaps, you've heard--"

  "How can I have heard? What?"

  "That he's gone off, the villain?"

  "Without paying his ransom?"

  "I can't say that; but there's a poor innocent young maid gone off withhim, one Salterne's daughter--the Popish serpent!"

  "Rose Salterne, the mayor's daughter, the Rose of Torridge!"

  "That's her. Bless your dear soul, what ails you?"

  Amyas had dropped back in his seat as if he had been shot; but herecovered himself before kind Mrs. Hawkins could rush to the cupboardfor cordials.

  "You'll forgive me, madam; but I'm weak from the sea; and your good alehas turned me a bit dizzy, I think."

  "Ay, yes, 'tis too, too heavy, till you've been on shore a while. Trythe aqua vitae; my Captain John has it right good; and a bit too fond ofit too, poor dear soul, between whiles, Heaven forgive him!"

  So she poured some strong brandy and water down Amyas's throat, in spiteof his refusals, and sent him to bed, but not to sleep; and after anight of tossing, he started for Bideford, having obtained the means forso doing from Mrs. Hawkins.