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 XXVIII

  HOW AMYAS CAME HOME THE THIRD TIME

  "It fell about the Martinmas, When nights were lang and mirk, That wife's twa sons cam hame again, And their hats were o' the birk.

  "It did na graw by bush or brae, Nor yet in ony shough; But by the gates o' paradise That birk grew fair eneugh."

  The Wife of Usher's Well.

  It is the evening of the 15th of February, 1587, and Mrs. Leigh (forwe must return now to old scenes and old faces) is pacing slowly up anddown the terrace-walk at Burrough, looking out over the winding river,and the hazy sand-hills, and the wide western sea, as she has done everyevening, be it fair weather or foul, for three weary years. Three yearsand more are past and gone, and yet no news of Frank and Amyas, andthe gallant ship and all the gallant souls therein; and loving eyes inBideford and Appledore, Clovelly and Ilfracombe, have grown hollow withwatching and with weeping for those who have sailed away into the West,as John Oxenham sailed before them, and have vanished like a dream, ashe did, into the infinite unknown. Three weary years, and yet no word.Once there was a flush of hope, and good Sir Richard (without Mrs.Leigh's knowledge), had sent a horseman posting across to Plymouth, whenthe news arrived that Drake, Frobisher, and Carlisle had returned withtheir squadron from the Spanish Main. Alas! he brought back great news,glorious news; news of the sacking of Cartagena, San Domingo, SaintAugustine; of the relief of Raleigh's Virginian Colony: but no news ofthe Rose, and of those who had sailed in her. And Mrs. Leigh bowed herhead, and worshipped, and said, "The Lord gave, and the Lord hath takenaway; blessed be the name of the Lord!"

  Her hair was now grown gray; her cheeks were wan; her step was feeble.She seldom went from home, save to the church, and to the neighboringcottages. She never mentioned her sons' names; never allowed a word topass her lips, which might betoken that she thought of them; but everyday, when the tide was high, and red flag on the sandhills showed thatthere was water over the bar, she paced the terrace-walk, and devouredwith greedy eyes the sea beyond in search of the sail which never came.The stately ships went in and out as of yore; and white sails hung offthe bar for many an hour, day after day, month after month, year afteryear: but an instinct within told her that none of them were the sailsshe sought. She knew that ship, every line of her, the cut of everycloth; she could have picked it out miles away, among a whole fleet, butit never came, and Mrs. Leigh bowed her head and worshipped, and wentto and fro among the poor, who looked on her as an awful being, and onewhom God had brought very near to Himself, in that mysterious heaven ofsorrow which they too knew full well. And lone women and bed-ridden menlooked in her steadfast eyes, and loved them, and drank in strength fromthem; for they knew (though she never spoke of her own grief) that shehad gone down into the fiercest depths of the fiery furnace, and waswalking there unhurt by the side of One whose form was as of the Sonof God. And all the while she was blaming herself for her "earthly"longings, and confessing nightly to Heaven that weakness which she couldnot shake off, which drew her feet at each high tide to the terrace-walkbeneath the row of wind-clipt trees.

  But this evening Northam is in a stir. The pebble ridge is thunderingfar below, as it thundered years ago: but Northam is noisy enoughwithout the rolling of the surge. The tower is rocking with the pealingbells: the people are all in the streets shouting and singing roundbonfires. They are burning the pope in effigy, drinking to the queen'shealth, and "So perish all her enemies!" The hills are red with bonfiresin every village; and far away, the bells of Bideford are answeringthe bells of Northam, as they answered them seven years ago, when Amyasreturned from sailing round the world. For this day has come the newsthat Mary Queen of Scots is beheaded in Fotheringay; and all England,like a dreamer who shakes off some hideous nightmare, has leapt up inone tremendous shout of jubilation, as the terror and the danger ofseventeen anxious years is lifted from its heart for ever.

  Yes, she is gone, to answer at a higher tribunal than that of theEstates of England, for all the noble English blood which has beenpoured out for her; for all the noble English hearts whom she hastempted into treachery, rebellion, and murder. Elizabeth's own wordshave been fulfilled at last, after years of long-suffering,--

  "The daughter of debate, That discord aye doth sow, Hath reap'd no gain where former rule Hath taught still peace to grow."

  And now she can do evil no more. Murder and adultery, the heart whichknew no forgiveness, the tongue which could not speak truth even for itsown interest, have past and are perhaps atoned for; and her fair facehangs a pitiful dream in the memory even of those who knew that eithershe, or England, must perish.

  "Nothing is left of her Now, but pure womanly."

  And Mrs. Leigh, Protestant as she is, breathes a prayer, that the Lordmay have mercy on that soul, as "clear as diamond, and as hard," as shesaid of herself. That last scene, too, before the fatal block--it couldnot be altogether acting. Mrs. Leigh had learned many a priceless lessonin the last seven years; might not Mary Stuart have learned somethingin seventeen? And Mrs. Leigh had been a courtier, and knew, as far as achaste Englishwoman could know (which even in those coarser days was notvery much), of that godless style of French court profligacy in whichpoor Mary had had her youthful training, amid the Medicis, and theGuises, and Cardinal Lorraine; and she shuddered, and sighed toherself"--To whom little is given, of them shall little be required!"But still the bells pealed on and would not cease.

  What was that which answered them from afar out of the fast darkeningtwilight? A flash, and then the thunder of a gun at sea.

  Mrs. Leigh stopped. The flash was right outside the bar. A ship indistress it could not be. The wind was light and westerly. It was ahigh spring-tide, as evening floods are always there. What could it be?Another flash, another gun. The noisy folks of Northam were hushed atonce, and all hurried into the churchyard which looks down on the broadflats and the river.

  There was a gallant ship outside the bar. She was running in, too, withall sails set. A large ship; nearly a thousand tons she might be; butnot of English rig. What was the meaning of it? A Spanish cruiser aboutto make reprisals for Drake's raid along the Cadiz shore! Not that,surely. The Don had no fancy for such unscientific and dare-devilwarfare. If he came, he would come with admiral, rear-admiral, andvice-admiral, transports, and avisos, according to the best-approvedmethods, articles, and science of war. What could she be?

  Easily, on the flowing tide and fair western wind, she has slippedup the channel between the two lines of sandhill. She is almost offAppledore now. She is no enemy; and if she be a foreigner, she is adaring one, for she has never veiled her topsails,--and that, all know,every foreign ship must do within sight of an English port, or stand thechance of war; as the Spanish admiral found, who many a year sincewas sent in time of peace to fetch home from Flanders Anne of Austria,Philip the Second's last wife.

  For in his pride he sailed into Plymouth Sound without veiling topsails,or lowering the flag of Spain. Whereon, like lion from his den, outrushed John Hawkins the port admiral, in his famous Jesus of Lubec(afterwards lost in the San Juan d'Ulloa fight), and without argument orparley, sent a shot between the admiral's masts; which not producing thedesired effect, alongside ran bold Captain John, and with his nextshot, so says his son, an eye-witness, "lackt the admiral through andthrough;" whereon down came the offending flag; and due apologies weremade, but not accepted for a long time by the stout guardian of hermajesty's honor. And if John Hawkins did as much for a Spanish fleet intime of peace, there is more than one old sea-dog in Appledore who willdo as much for a single ship in time of war, if he can find even an ironpot to burn powder withal.

  The strange sail passed out of sight behind the hill of Appledore; andthen there rose into the quiet evening air a cheer, as from a hundredthroats. Mrs. Leigh stood still, and listened. Another gun thunderedamong the hills; and then another cheer.

  It might have been twenty minutes
before the vessel hove in sight againround the dark rocks of the Hubbastone, as she turned up the Bidefordriver. Mrs. Leigh had stood that whole time perfectly motionless, a paleand scarcely breathing statue, her eyes fixed upon the Viking's rock.

  Round the Hubbastone she came at last. There was music on board, drumsand fifes, shawms and trumpets, which wakened ringing echoes from everyknoll of wood and slab of slate. And as she opened full on BurroughHouse, another cheer burst from her crew, and rolled up to the hillsfrom off the silver waters far below, full a mile away.

  Mrs. Leigh walked quickly toward the house, and called her maid,--

  "Grace, bring me my hood. Master Amyas is come home!"

  "No, surely? O joyful sound! Praised and blessed be the Lord, then;praised and blessed be the Lord! But, madam, however did you know that?"

  "I heard his voice on the river; but I did not hear Mr. Frank's withhim, Grace!"

  "Oh, be sure, madam, where the one is the other is. They'd never partcompany. Both come home or neither, I'll warrant. Here's your hood,madam."

  And Mrs. Leigh, with Grace behind her, started with rapid steps towardsBideford.

  Was it true? Was it a dream? Had the divine instinct of the motherenabled her to recognize her child's voice among all the rest, and atthat enormous distance; or was her brain turning with the long effort ofher supernatural calm?

  Grace asked herself, in her own way, that same question many a timebetween Burrough and Bideford. When they arrived on the quay thequestion answered itself.

  As they came down Bridgeland Street (where afterwards the tobaccowarehouses for the Virginia trade used to stand, but which then was buta row of rope-walks and sailmakers' shops), they could see the strangeship already at anchor in the river. They had just reached the lower endof the street, when round the corner swept a great mob, sailors, women,'prentices, hurrahing, questioning, weeping, laughing: Mrs. Leighstopped; and behold, they stopped also.

  "Here she is!" shouted some one; "here's his mother!"

  "His mother? Not their mother!" said Mrs. Leigh to herself, and turnedvery pale; but that heart was long past breaking.

  The next moment the giant head and shoulders of Amyas, far above thecrowd, swept round the corner.

  "Make a way! Make room for Madam Leigh!"--And Amyas fell on his knees ather feet.

  She threw her arms round his neck, and bent her fair head over his,while sailors, 'prentices, and coarse harbor-women were hushed into holysilence, and made a ring round the mother and the son.

  Mrs. Leigh asked no question. She saw that Amyas was alone.

  At last he whispered, "I would have died to save him, mother, if Icould."

  "You need not tell me that, Amyas Leigh, my son."

  Another silence.

  "How did he die?" whispered Mrs. Leigh.

  "He is a martyr. He died in the----"

  Amyas could say no more.

  "The Inquisition?"

  "Yes."

  A strong shudder passed through Mrs. Leigh's frame, and then she liftedup her head.

  "Come home, Amyas. I little expected such an honor--such an honor--ha!ha! and such a fair young martyr, too; a very St. Stephen! God, havemercy on me; and let me not go mad before these folk, when I ought to bethanking Thee for Thy great mercies! Amyas, who is that?"

  And she pointed to Ayacanora, who stood close behind Amyas, watchingwith keen eyes the whole.

  "She is a poor wild Indian girl--my daughter, I call her. I will tellyou her story hereafter."

  "Your daughter? My grand-daughter, then. Come hither, maiden, and be mygrand-daughter."

  Ayacanora came obedient, and knelt down, because she had seen Amyaskneel.

  "God forbid, child! kneel not to me. Come home, and let me know whetherI am sane or mazed, alive or dead."

  And drawing her hood over her face, she turned to go back, holding Amyastight by one hand, and Ayacanora by the other.

  The crowd let them depart some twenty yards in respectful silence, andthen burst into a cheer which made the old town ring.

  Mrs. Leigh stopped suddenly.

  "I had forgotten, Amyas. You must not let me stand in the way of yourduty. Where are your men?"

  "Kissed to death by this time; all of them, that is, who are left."

  "Left?"

  "We went out a hundred, mother, and we came home forty-four--if we areat home. Is it a dream, mother? Is this you? and this old BridgelandStreet again? As I live, there stands Evans the smith, at his door,tankard in hand, as he did when I was a boy!"

  The brawny smith came across the street to them; but stopped when he sawAmyas, but no Frank.

  "Better one than neither, madam!" said he, trying a rough comfort. Amyasshook his hand as he passed him; but Mrs. Leigh neither heard nor sawhim nor any one.

  "Mother," said Amyas, when they were now past the causeway, "we are richfor life."

  "Yes; a martyr's death was the fittest for him."

  "I have brought home treasure untold."

  "What, my boy?"

  "Treasure untold. Cary has promised to see to it to-night."

  "Very well. I would that he had slept at our house. He was a kindly lad,and loved Frank. When did he?"--

  "Three years ago, and more. Within two months of our sailing."

  "Ah! Yes, he told me so."

  "Told you so?"

  "Yes; the dear lad has often come to see me in my sleep; but you nevercame. I guessed how it was--as it should be."

  "But I loved you none the less, mother!"

  "I know that, too: but you were busy with the men, you know, sweet;so your spirit could not come roving home like his, which was free.Yes--all as it should be. My maid, and do you not find it cold here inEngland, after those hot regions?"

  "Ayacanora's heart is warm; she does not think about cold."

  "Warm? perhaps you will warm my heart for me, then."

  "Would God I could do it, mother!" said Amyas, half reproachfully.

  Mrs. Leigh looked up in his face, and burst into a violent flood oftears.

  "Sinful! sinful that I am!"

  "Blessed creature!" cried Amyas, "if you speak so I shall go mad.Mother, mother, I have been dreading this meeting for months. It hasbeen a nightmare hanging over me like a horrible black thunder-cloud; agreat cliff miles high, with its top hid in the clouds, which I had toclimb, and dare not. I have longed to leap overboard, and flee from itlike a coward into the depths of the sea.--The thought that you mightask me whether I was not my brother's keeper--that you might require hisblood at my hands--and now, now! when it comes! to find you all love,and trust, and patience--mother, mother, it's more than I can bear!" andhe wept violently.

  Mrs. Leigh knew enough of Amyas to know that any burst of this kind,from his quiet nature, betokened some very fearful struggle; and theloving creature forgot everything instantly, in the one desire to soothehim.

  And soothe him she did; and home the two went, arm in arm together,while Ayacanora held fast, like a child, by the skirt of Mrs. Leigh'scloak. The self-help and daring of the forest nymph had given place tothe trembling modesty of the young girl, suddenly cast on shore in a newworld, among strange faces, strange hopes, and strange fears also.

  "Will your mother love me?" whispered she to Amyas, as she went in.

  "Yes; but you must do what she tells you."

  Ayacanora pouted.

  "She will laugh at me, because I am wild."

  "She never laughs at any one."

  "Humph!" said Ayacanora. "Well, I shall not be afraid of her. I thoughtshe would have been tall like you; but she is not even as big as me."

  This hardly sounded hopeful for the prospect of Ayacanora's obedience;but ere twenty-four hours had passed, Mrs. Leigh had won her overutterly; and she explained her own speech by saying that she thought sogreat a man ought to have a great mother. She had expected, poor thing,in her simplicity, some awful princess with a frown like Juno's own, andfound instead a healing angel.

  Her story was soon told
to Mrs. Leigh, who of course, woman-like,would not allow a doubt as to her identity. And the sweet mother neverimprinted a prouder or fonder kiss upon her son's forehead, thanthat with which she repaid his simple declaration, that he had keptunspotted, like a gentleman and a Christian, the soul which God had putinto his charge.

  "Then you have forgiven me, mother?"

  "Years ago I said in this same room, what should I render to the Lordfor having given me two such sons? And in this room I say it once again.Tell me all about my other son, that I may honor him as I honor you."

  And then, with the iron nerve which good women have, she made him giveher every detail of Lucy Passmore's story and of all which had happenedfrom the day of their sailing to that luckless night at Guayra. And whenit was done, she led Ayacanora out, and began busying herself about thegirl's comforts, as calmly as if Frank and Amyas had been sleeping intheir cribs in the next room.

  But she had hardly gone upstairs, when a loud knock at the door wasfollowed by its opening hastily; and into the hall burst, regardless ofetiquette, the tall and stately figure of Sir Richard Grenville.

  Amyas dropped on his knees instinctively. The stern warrior was quiteunmanned; and as he bent over his godson, a tear dropped from that ironcheek, upon the iron cheek of Amyas Leigh.

  "My lad! my glorious lad! and where have you been? Get up, and tell meall. The sailors told me a little, but I must hear every word. I knewyou would do something grand. I told your mother you were too good aworkman for God to throw away. Now, let me have the whole story. Why, Iam out of breath! To tell truth, I ran three-parts of the way hither."

  And down the two sat, and Amyas talked long into the night; while SirRichard, his usual stateliness recovered, smiled stern approval at eachdeed of daring; and when all was ended, answered with something like asigh:

  "Would God that I had been with you every step! Would God, at least,that I could show as good a three-years' log-book, Amyas, my lad!"

  "You can show a better one, I doubt not."

  "Humph! With the exception of one paltry Spanish prize, I don't knowthat the queen is the better, or her enemies the worse, for me, since weparted last in Dublin city."

  "You are too modest, sir."

  "Would that I were; but I got on in Ireland, I found, no better than myneighbors; and so came home again, to find that while I had been wastingmy time in that land of misrule, Raleigh had done a deed to which I cansee no end. For, lad, he has found (or rather his two captains, Amadasand Barlow, have found for him) between Florida and Newfoundland, acountry, the like of which, I believe, there is not on the earth forclimate and fertility. Whether there be gold there, I know not, and itmatters little; for there is all else on earth that man can want; furs,timber, rivers, game, sugar-canes, corn, fruit, and every commoditywhich France, Spain, or Italy can yield, wild in abundance; the savagescivil enough for savages, and, in a word, all which goes to the makingof as noble a jewel as her majesty's crown can wear. The people call itWingandacoa; but we, after her majesty, Virginia."

  "You have been there, then?"

  "The year before last, lad; and left there Ralf Lane, Amadas, and sometwenty gentlemen, and ninety men, and, moreover, some money of my own,and some of old Will Salterne's, which neither of us will ever seeagain. For the colony, I know not how, quarrelled with the Indians (Ifear I too was over-sharp with some of them for stealing--if I was, Godforgive me!), and could not, forsooth, keep themselves alive for twelvemonths; so that Drake, coming back from his last West Indian voyage,after giving them all the help he could, had to bring the whole partyhome. And if you will believe it, the faint-hearted fellows had not beengone a fortnight, before I was back again with three ships and all thatthey could want. And never was I more wroth in my life, when all I foundwas the ruins of their huts, which (so rich is the growth there) werealready full of great melons, and wild deer feeding thereon--a prettysight enough, but not what I wanted just then. So back I came; and beingin no overgood temper, vented my humors on the Portugals at the Azores,and had hard fights and small booty. So there the matter stands, but notfor long; for shame it were if such a paradise, once found by Britons,should fall into the hands of any but her majesty; and we will try againthis spring, if men and money can be found. Eh, lad?"

  "But the prize?"

  "Ah! that was no small make-weight to our disasters, after all. Isighted her for six days' sail from the American coast: but ere we couldlay her aboard it fell dead calm. Never a boat had I on board--theywere all lost in a gale of wind--and the other ships were becalmed twoleagues astern of me. There was no use lying there and pounding her tillshe sank; so I called the carpenter, got up all the old chests, and withthem and some spars we floated ourselves alongside, and only just intime. For the last of us had hardly scrambled up into the chains, whenour crazy Noah's ark went all aboard, and sank at the side, so that ifwe had been minded to run away, Amyas, we could not; whereon, judgingvalor to be the better part of discretion (as I usually do), we fell towith our swords and had her in five minutes, and fifty thousand pounds'worth in her, which set up my purse again, and Raleigh's too, though Ifear it has run out again since as fast as it ran in."

  And so ended Sir Richard's story.

  Amyas went the next day to Salterne, and told his tale. The old man hadheard the outlines of it already: but he calmly bade him sit down, andlistened to all, his chin upon his hand, his elbows on his knees. Hischeek never blanched, his lips never quivered throughout. Only whenAmyas came to Rose's marriage, he heaved a long breath, as if a weightwas taken off his heart.

  "Say that again, sir!"

  Amyas said it again, and then went on; faltering, he hinted at themanner of her death.

  "Go on, sir! Why are you afraid? There is nothing to be ashamed ofthere, is there?"

  Amyas told the whole with downcast eyes, and then stole a look at hishearer's face. There was no sign of emotion: only somewhat of a proudsmile curled the corners of that iron mouth.

  "And her husband?" asked he, after a pause.

  "I am ashamed to have to tell you, sir, that the man still lives."

  "Still lives, sir?"

  "Too true, as far as I know. That it was not my fault, my story bears mewitness."

  "Sir, I never doubted your will to kill him. Still lives, you say? Well,so do rats and adders. And now, I suppose, Captain Leigh, your worshipis minded to recruit yourself on shore a while with the fair lass whomyou have brought home (as I hear) before having another dash at thedevil and his kin!"

  "Do not mention that young lady's name with mine, sir; she is no more tome than she is to you; for she has Spanish blood in her veins."

  Salterne smiled grimly.

  "But I am minded at least to do one thing, Mr. Salterne, and that is, tokill Spaniards, in fair fight, by land and sea, wheresoever I shall meetthem. And, therefore, I stay not long here, whithersoever I may be boundnext."

  "Well, sir, when you start, come to me for a ship, and the best I haveis at your service; and, if she do not suit, command her to be fitted asyou like best; and I, William Salterne, will pay for all which you shallcommand to be done."

  "My good sir, I have accounts to square with you after a very differentfashion. As part-adventurer in the Rose, I have to deliver to you yourshare of the treasure which I have brought home."

  "My share, sir? If I understood you, my ship was lost off the coast ofthe Caracas three years agone, and this treasure was all won since?"

  "True; but you, as an adventurer in the expedition, have a just claimfor your share, and will receive it."

  "Captain Leigh, you are, I see, as your father was before you, a justand upright Christian man: but, sir, this money is none of mine, for itwas won in no ship of mine.--Hear me, sir! And if it had been, andthat ship"--(he could not speak her name)--"lay safe and sound now byBideford quay, do you think, sir, that William Salterne is the man tomake money out of his daughter's sin and sorrow, and to handle the priceof blood? No, sir! You went like a gentleman to seek her, and like a
gentleman, as all the world knows, you have done your best, and I thankyou: but our account ends there. The treasure is yours, sir; I haveenough, and more than enough, and none, God help me, to leave it to, butgreedy and needy kin, who will be rather the worse than the better forit. And if I have a claim in law for aught--which I know not, neithershall ever ask--why, if you are not too proud, accept that claim as aplain burgher's thank-offering to you, sir, for a great and a noble lovewhich you and your brother have shown to one who, though I say it, to myshame, was not worthy thereof."

  "She was worthy of that and more, sir. For if she sinned like a woman,she died like a saint."

  "Yes, sir!" answered the old man, with a proud smile; "she had the rightEnglish blood in her, I doubt not; and showed it at the last. But now,sir, no more of this. When you need a ship, mine is at your service;till then, sir, farewell, and God be with you."

  And the old man rose, and with an unmoved countenance, bowed Amyasto the door. Amyas went back and told Cary, bidding him take half ofSalterne's gift: but Cary swore a great oath that he would have none ofit.

  "Heir of Clovelly, Amyas, and want to rob you? I who have lostnothing,--you who have lost a brother! God forbid that I should evertouch a farthing beyond my original share!"

  That evening a messenger from Bideford came running breathless up toBurrough Court. The authorities wanted Amyas's immediate attendance, forhe was one of the last, it seemed, who had seen Mr. Salterne alive.

  Salterne had gone over, as soon as Amyas departed, to an oldacquaintance; signed and sealed his will in their presence with a firmand cheerful countenance, refusing all condolence; and then gone home,and locked himself into Rose's room. Supper-time came, and he did notappear. The apprentices could not make him answer, and at last calledin the neighbors, and forced the door. Salterne was kneeling by hisdaughter's bed; his head was upon the coverlet; his Prayer-book wasopen before him at the Burial Service; his hands were clasped insupplication; but he was dead and cold.

  His will lay by him. He had left all his property among his poorrelations, saving and excepting all money, etc., due to him as owner andpart-adventurer of the ship Rose, and his new bark of three hundred tonsburden, now lying East-the-water; all which was bequeathed to CaptainAmyas Leigh, on condition that he should re-christen that bark theVengeance,--fit her out with part of the treasure, and with her sailonce more against the Spaniard, before three years were past.

  And this was the end of William Salterne, merchant.