Part 18

“The Generall began to inquire diligently of the actions of M. Thomas Doughtie and found them not to be such as he looked for, but tending rather to contention or mutinie, or some other disorder, whereby (without redresse) the successe of the voyage might greatly have been hazarded: whereupon the company was called together and made acquainted with the particulars of the cause, which were found partly by master Doughtie’s owne confession, and partly by the evidence of the fact, to be true: which when our Generall saw, although his private affection of M. Doughtie (as hee then in the presence of us all sacredly protested) was great, yet the care he had of the state of the voyage, of the expectation of her Majestie, and of the honour of his countrey did more touch him (as indeede it ought) then [than] the private respect of one man: so that the cause being thoroughly heard, and all things done in good order as neere as might be to the course of our lawes in England, it was concluded that M. Doughtie should receive punishment according to the qualitie of the offence: and he seeing no remedie but patience for himselfe, desired before his death to receive the Communion, which he did at the hands of M. Fletcher our Minister, and our Generall himselfe accompanied him in that holy action: which being done, and the place of execution made ready, hee having embraced our Generall and taken his leave of all the companie, with prayers for the Queenes majestie and our realme, in quiet sort laid his head to the blocke, where he ended his life.”

Whether he were guilty or not, Doughty’s fine courage and manly bearing throughout his ordeal calls only for admiration.

The execution over, Drake made a speech to the assembled company, persuading them to “unitie, obedience, love, and regard of” their voyage: and “for the better confirmation thereof” he “willed every man the next Sunday following to prepare himselfe to receive the Communion as Christian brethren and friends ought to doe.” This, the chronicler concludes, was done “in very reverent sort, and so with good contentment every man went about his businesse.”

St. Julien was left on the seventeenth of August, and on the twentieth the mouth of the Strait of Magellan was reached. At the entrance, Drake, as another chronicler recorded, caused the fleet, in homage to the queen of England, to “strike their topsails upon the bunt as a token of his willing and glad mind to shew his dutiful obedience to her highness, whom he acknowledged to have full interest and right” in his discoveries; and he formally changed the name of his own ship from the “Pelican” to the “Golden Hind,” in remembrance of his “honourable friend and favourer,” Sir Christopher Hatton, whose crest bore this design. Then the chaplain delivered a sermon and the ceremonies closed.

The passage of the strait was successfully made in the remarkable time of sixteen days, and on the sixth of September the little fleet emerged in the sea of their desire on the “backside” of America.

Instead, however, of the tranquil ocean that Magelhaens had named the Pacific, because of its serenity when he first saw it, they encountered a rough and turbulent water; and no sooner had they cleared the strait than a great storm arose by which they were driven some two hundred leagues westward, and separated. The “Golden Hind” was struggling against the almost continuous tempest for full fifty-three days. From the west she was carried south as far as fifty-seven degrees, and Drake was enabled to see the union of the Atlantic and the Pacific, and by chance to discover Cape Horn. He sighted numerous islands, and gave the name of the “Elizabethides” to the whole group of Tierra del Fuego. While beating about west and south the fleet came together again, but only soon to be parted forever. In the middle of September a harbour was temporarily made in a bay which Drake called the “Bay of Severing Friends.” Working northward again they stood in a bay near the strait. The next day the cable of the “Golden Hind” parted and she drove out to sea. Thus she lost sight of the “Elizabeth,” and never saw her more. It was supposed that she had been put by the storm into the strait again, and that she would ultimately be met somewhere above. The first part of this supposition was correct. She had recovered the strait. But instead of returning to the Pacific course Captain Winter made the passage back to the Atlantic, and so continued his voyage homeward, reaching England on the first of November. Captain Winter prepared an account of his companionship with Drake from the start, and of his experiences after

## parting with him, which Hakluyt reproduced. On the second of October the

“Marigold,” in trying to regain lost ground, fell away from the “Golden Hind” and afterward (though Drake was not aware of her fate) foundered with all on board.

Now the “Golden Hind” was left alone with a single pinnace. Subsequently the pinnace with eight men in her separated from him and was seen no more. Her crew, as was some years after related by the single survivor, had marvellous adventures, which included the return passage through the strait; a voyage to the River La Plata; fights with Indians in woods on the shore; escape of those left alive to a lone island, where the pinnace was dashed to pieces on the rocks; two months on this island by the survivors, now only two, who subsisted on crabs, eels, and fruits with no water to drink; and final escape to the mainland by means of a raft of plank, where one of the two died from over-indulgence in the sweet water of a rivulet.

At length after her wanderings southward the “Golden Hind” with a favourable wind got fairly off on a northwestern course. Again coming to the height of the strait she coasted upward, Drake always hoping to meet or hear of his missing consorts. Through the inaccuracy of his charts he was carried more to the westward than he intended, and on the twenty-ninth of November fell in with an island called la Mocha. Here he came to anchor in the hope of obtaining water and fresh provisions, and of recuperating. Taking ten of his men he rowed ashore. The inhabitants were found to be Patagonians, who had been compelled by the “cruell and extreme dealings of the Spaniards” to flee from the mainland and fortify themselves on this island. They thronged down to the water side with “shew of great courtesie,” and offered potatoes, roots, and two fat sheep, Drake in return giving them trinkets. A supply of water was also promised by them. But the next day when the same party rowed to the shore and two men were put on land with barrels to be filled, the people, mistaking these men for Spaniards, seized and slew them. Another account says that in attempting to rescue their comrades the party were assailed, and Drake was wounded in the face by arrows. The ship then at once weighed anchor and got off.

Drawing toward the coast again, the next day anchor was dropped in a bay called St. Philip. Here an Indian came out in a canoe, and taking the “Golden Hind” to be Spanish, told of a great Spanish ship at a place called “S. Iogo” (Valparaiso), laden from Peru. For this exhilarating news Drake rewarded the canoeist with divers trifles, and under his pilotage straightway put off for Valparaiso to seize the prize if there. True enough, she was found in that harbour riding quietly at anchor, with only eight Spaniards and three Negroes on board. They also supposing the new comer to be Spanish, welcomed her with beat of drum and made ready a “Bottija [a Spanish pot] of wine of Chili to drink” to her men. So soon, however, as the craft was come up to, one of Drake’s impatient men began to lay about him, and striking one of the Spaniards cried “Abaxo Perro, that is in English Goe downe dogge!” This, in modern parlance, gave the “Golden Hind” away. But not a moment was lost in parley. “To be short,” says the chronicler, “wee stowed them away under hatches all save one Spaniard, who suddenly and desperately leapt over board into the sea, and swamme ashore to the towne ... to give them warning of our arrival.” There were then in Valparaiso “not above nine households,” and it was instantly abandoned. Drake proceeded to rifle the place. A lot of Chili wine was taken from a warehouse, and from a chapel a silver chalice, two cruets, and an altar cloth were carried off. All of the pious spoil was generously given by Drake to his chaplain, Master Fletcher. This business done, all of the prisoners were freed with one exception, John Griego, a Greek, whom Drake held to serve him as pilot to the haven of Lima, and the “Golden Hind” set sail again with the Spanish prize in tow. She was rifled leisurely when at sea, and produced “good store of the wine of Chili, 25,000 pezoes of very pure and fine gold of Baldivia, amounting in value to 37,000 ducats of Spanish money or above.” This was reckoned a pretty fine haul for the first one on the Pacific coast, but greater were to follow.

The voyagers still kept in with the coast and next arrived at “a place called Coquinobo” (perhaps Copiapo). Here Drake sent fourteen of his men to land for fresh water. They were espied and a body of horsemen and footmen dashed upon and killed one of them. Then the attacking force quickly disappeared. The Englishmen went ashore again and buried their comrade. Meanwhile the Spaniards reappeared with a flag of truce. But they were not trusted, and as soon as his men had returned Drake again put to sea. He now had a new pinnace, having at this place set up another of the three brought out ready framed. The next place at which a landing was made was Tarapaca. On the shore a Spaniard was found lying asleep with thirteen bars of silver beside him. Drake’s party took the silver and left the man. Not far from this place a boat’s load going ashore for water met a Spaniard with an Indian boy driving eight “llamas,” sheep of Peru, as “big as asses,” each carrying on its back two leather bags, together containing one hundred pounds’ weight of silver. They took the sheep with their burdens, and let the man and boy go. Still coasting along the buccaneering voyagers came next to the port of Arica. In this haven lay three barks well freighted with silver. They were instantly boarded and relieved of their cargoes. From one alone were taken fifty-seven wedges of silver, each of “the bigness of a brickbat,” and of about twenty pounds’ weight. They were unprotected, their crews having fled to the town at the approach of the Englishmen. Drake would have ransacked the town had his company been larger. As it was, the spoil of the barks so easily taken contented him. Now he was bound for Lima. Along the way he fell in with a bark which, being boarded and rifled, produced a good store of linen cloth. When as much of this stuff as was desired had been taken the bark was cast off.

Callao, the port of Lima, was reached on the thirteenth of February, and entered without resistance. A dozen or more ships were met in this haven, lying at anchor, all without their sails, these having been taken ashore, for the masters and merchants here felt perfectly secure, never having been assaulted by enemies and fearing the approach of none such as Drake’s company were. All were held up and rifled. In one were found fifteen hundred bars of silver; in another a chest of coined money, and stocks of silks and linen cloth. Drake questioned the crews as to any knowledge they might have of his lost consorts, for which he had kept up a continual lookout; but he could learn nothing from them. He learned something else, however, which hastened his departure. This was that a very rich Spanish ship, laden with treasure, had sailed out of this port just before his arrival, bound for Panama. She was the “glory of the South Sea,” named the “Cacafuego,” in English equivalent the “Spitfire.” Drake was soon in full chase of her, and to prevent himself being followed from Callao he cut all the cables of the twelve ships, letting them drive as they would, to sea or ashore.

[Illustration: DRAKE OVERHAULING A SPANISH GALLEON.]

On this run he paused long enough to overhaul and loot a brigantine, taking out of her eighty pounds’ weight of gold, a gold crucifix studded with emeralds, and some cordage which would come in handy on his ship. Drake promised his men that whichever should first sight the “Cacafuego” should be rewarded with the gold chain he wore. It fortuned that his brother John, “going up into the top,” spied her at three o’clock one afternoon, and so won the chain. By six she was reached and ordered to stand. Three pieces of ordnance were shot off at her and struck down her mizzen. She was then boarded and easily possessed. Her treasure comprised jewels, precious stones, eighty pounds of gold, and twenty-six tons of silver. Among some plate were two gilded silver bowls which belonged to her pilot, Francisco by name. These particularly took Drake’s fancy. So with suavity he observed to their owner, “Senor Pilot, you have here two silver cups, but I must have one of them.” The “Senor Pilot” responded as affably, and, “because he could not otherwise chuse,” handed over one to the general and bestowed the other upon the steward of the “Golden Hind.” As he departed his boy, a lad with a clever wit, spoke up to Drake, "Captain, our ship shall be called no more the ‘Cacafuego’ but the ‘Cacaplata,’ and your ship shall be called the ‘Cacafuego.’" “Which prettie speech of the Pilot’s boy,” the chronicler records, “ministered matter of laughter to us, both then and long after.”

The point where this prize was taken is given as some one hundred and fifty leagues below Panama. She was sailed out into the sea beyond the sight of land, and there rifled. When this was done Drake cast her off and continued on his course up the coast, standing out to the westward to avoid Panama, where he was too well known. On an early April day, another fine ship was met with. She was taken without resistance. She was a merchant ship from Acapulco, in Mexico, rich laden with linen cloth, China silks, and porcelain ware. Her owner was on board, a Spanish gentleman, Don Francisco de Carate. Drake treated him with great courtesy, and evidently won his admiration, for we read that he gave his captor a handsomely wrought falcon of gold with a great emerald set in the breast. Drake in return gave him a hanger and silver brazier. He released the merchant after three days when, having finished his business with the captured ship, he suffered her to continue on her voyage. The pilot, however, was retained for his service. Afterward Carate gave a careful account of his experience with Drake in a letter to the viceroy of New Spain, and to this letter we are indebted for an engaging description of Drake’s outfit, his characteristics, and his person.

This intelligent and gracious witness pictures the general as “about thirty-five, of small size, and reddish beard,” and characterises him as “one of the greatest sailors that exist both for his skill and for his power of commanding.” His men were “all in the prime of life and as well trained for war as if they were old soldiers of Italy.” He treated them “with affection, and they him with respect.” Among them were “nine or ten gentlemen, younger sons of leading men in England,” who formed his council. But he was not bound by their advice, though he might be guided by it. These young gentlemen all dined with him at his table. The service was of silver “richly gilt and engraved with his arms.” He dined and supped to the music of violins. He had “all possible luxuries, even to perfumes.” He had two draughtsmen, who portrayed the coast “in its own colours.” His ship carried thirty large guns, and a great quantity of ammunition, as well as artificers who could execute necessary repairs.

Carate’s retained pilot directed Drake up to and along the coast of North America, and about the middle of April had brought him to the Mexican haven of “Guatulco” (Acapulco). He landed with a few of his men and went presently to the town, where, in the Town-House, a trial of three Negroes charged with conspiring to burn the place was proceeding. Judge, officers, and prisoners were all seized and brought to the ship. The judge was required to write a letter commanding the townspeople to “avoid” that the ship might water here. This done, and the captives released, Drake’s men ransacked the town. In one house they found a pot of the size of a bushel full of reals of plate. A flying Spanish gentleman was overtaken and a gold chain and jewels were filched from him. At this port Nuna da Silva, the Portuguese pilot retained all along from the time of his capture in the Cape Verde Islands, was discharged and put aboard a Spanish ship in the harbour. He subsequently made a written report to the viceroy of New Spain, comprising a circumstantial account of the voyage as far as he was compelled to make it. This account passed from that official to the viceroy of the Portugal-Indies, and some years afterward got to England, when Hakluyt published it. It follows the narrative of the chronicler of Drake’s company in the _Principal Navigations_, and well supplements that.

Now, at Acapulco, or at an island below this port which the chronicler calls “Canno,” while his “Golden Hind” was undergoing a complete refitting, Drake was pondering his future course. His ship was rich in treasure, and his company were thinking of home. He now felt himself “both in respect of his private injuries received from the Spaniards, as also of the contempts and indignities offered” to his country, “sufficiently satisfied and revenged”; and he believed that the queen would be contented with this service. Accordingly he decided no longer to continue on the coast of New Spain. But whither should he turn? It was unwise to go back as he had come. It was not well to make return by the Strait of Magellan for two reasons: “the one, lest the Spaniards should there waite and attend for him in great number and strength whose hands, hee being left but one ship, could not possibly escape.” And it happened that a fleet was actually making ready for this purpose. The other was the dangerous situation of the Pacific mouth of the strait with “continuall stormes reigning and blustering, as he had found by experience, besides the shoalds and sands upon the coast.” Finally, after consultation with his “council,” he resolved to strike boldly out into the great sea and make for the Moluccas, the Spice Islands, of the East Indian Archipelago. He may have been influenced toward this decision through his capture while at Canno of a prize with two pilots and a Spanish governor on board bound for the Philippines; or by an earlier taking from the Spaniards, according to Silva’s account, of some charts of seas hitherto unknown to the English. At the same time it is believed that he had serious thoughts of trying for an “upper north” passage to the Atlantic from the “backside” of America, as Frobisher had sought the Northwest passage from the east side three and more years before.

The start on the western course, directly into the Pacific, was made about the middle of April. But almost immediately, in order to get a wind, it was necessary to steer somewhat northerly instead of due west. And thus northward the ship continued to sail, “six hundred leagues at the least,” for some fifty days, or till the third of June, when she had come, as the chronicler recorded, “in 43 degrees towards the pole Arctike.” The air had now grown so cold that the voyagers, coming from a torrid climate, were “grievously pinched” by it. On the fifth of June, because of the increasing cold, and of contrary winds, they thought it best to seek the shore.

The coast they first sighted was “not mountainous but low plaine land.” It was the lower part of the present great American state of Oregon. Hakluyt’s chronicler made no mention of a stop here, but a later one (Drake’s chaplain, Fletcher) told of their dropping anchor in a “bad bay” in which there was “no abiding” for any length of time. To go farther north, under all the circumstances, was out of the question, and if Drake really had thought seriously of seeking a northern strait between the oceans, that scheme was now abandoned. Again under sail, with the wind straight from the north, they were carried southward till they had come “within 38 degrees toward the line.” And now “it pleased God” to send them “into a faire good Baye with a good winde to enter the same.” This was on the coast of our present California. Here they came comfortably to anchor, and looking about them, saw little huts close by the waterside and strange natives pressing to the shore with welcoming gestures.

So Drake discovered for the English the coast of Oregon and California. He was the first European to see the coast of Oregon and to anchor on its shores. Earlier discovery of the Californian coast was claimed for Portuguese ships in 1520 and 1542–1543; and for the Spaniards in 1542. The Spaniards first applied the name of California to an indefinite territory up the coast above Mexico. Drake named the region which he visited, “New Albion,” because of the “white bankes and cliffes” lying toward the sea, which he saw as he approached the place of his anchorage, and in remembrance of the ancient name of Britain. The situation of his “faire good Baye” was a mooted question with historical authorities till near the close of the nineteenth century. The weight of evidence appeared to point to San Francisco Bay till the exact identification of Point Reyes Head, a little north of San Francisco Bay, as Drake’s landfall. This was made in full accordance with the chroniclers’ descriptions, by Prof. George Davidson, of the United States Coast and Geodetic Survey, who definitely fixed the disputed port under the eastern promontory of Point Reyes Head, the haven now called Drake’s Harbor. The “bad harbor” above, on the Oregon coast, Professor Davidson identifies in an open roadstead off the mouth of the Chetko River, protected in part by Cape Ferrelo.

Drake and his companions stayed in this port for thirty-six days and had wonderful intercourse with the natives. These people greatly marvelled at the things they brought and the presents they bestowed and thought their visitors to be gods. The Englishmen pitched their tents and built a temporary fort about them near the waterside at the foot of a hill, while from its summit groups of natives gazed, wide-eyed, down upon their work. Then followed a succession of stately ceremonies.