Class _EEi2Xi2Y fopvriglif-N " 1909 COEmiGHT DEPOSm GPO Sir Francis Drake From an Original Painting DRAKE AN ENGLISH EPIC Books i-xil BY ALFRED NOYES NEW YORK FREDERICK A. STOKES COMPANY PUBLISHERS Copyright, 1909, By FREDERICK A. STOKES COMPANY Copyright, 1906, By ALFRED NOYES All Right! Resirved SeptembeTf zgog r= r. 246128 SEP 2 1909 To RUDOLPH CHAMBERS LEHMANN ILLUSTRATIONS Sir Francis Drake From an Original Painting . . . Frontispiece FACING PAGE Queen Elizabeth, 1585 From a Painting by Nicholas HlUiard . . 16 Sir Francis Walsingham From an Original Painting 22 William Cecil, Lord Burleigh From an Original Painting by Mark Gerard 114 Drake's Ship, The Golden Hynde Reproduced from Harper s Magazine by Permission 162 Queen Elizabeth Knighting Drake on Board The Golden Hynde at Deptford, April 4, 1581 - Reproduced from Harper s Magazine by Permission .: .; 214 Philip II, King of Spain From the Painting by Titian .... 234 The Defeat of the Spanish Armada Reproduced by Permission of the Lenox Library, New York .... .: ;.• 318 DRAKE PROLOGUE TO AMERICAN EDITION r^NGLAND, my mother, m T Lift to my western sweetheart One full cup of English mead, breathing of the may! Pledge the may-flower in her face that you and ah, none other. Sent her from the mother-land Across the dashing spray. u Hers and yours the story : Think of it, oh, think of it — That immortal dream when El Dorado flushed the skies! Fill the beaker full and drink to Drake^s undying glory, Yours and hers (Oh, drink of it!) The dream that never dies. DRAKE /// Yours and hers the free-men Who scanned the stars and westward sung When a king commanded and the Atlantic thundered ''Nay!'' Hers as yours the pride is, for Drake our first of seamen First upon his how-sprit hung That hunch of English may, IV Pledge her deep^ my mother; Through her veins thy life-stream runs! Spare a thought, too, sweetheart, for my mother o'er the sea! Younger eyes are yours; hut ah, those old eyes and none other Once bedewed the may-flower; once, As yours, were clear and free. r Once! Nay, now as ever Beats within her ancient heart 2 PROLOGUE All the faith that took you forth to seek your heaven alone: Shadows come and go; hut let no shade of doubt dissever, Cloak, or cloud, or keep apart Two souls whose prayer is one, VI Sweetheart, ah, he tender — Tender with her prayer to-night! Such a goal might yet he ours! — the hat tie- flags he furled. All the wars of earth he crushed, if only now your slender Hand should grasp her gnarled old hand And federate the world. VII Foolish it may seem, sweet! Still the hat tie thunder lours: Darker loom the Dreadnoughts as old Europe goes her way! Yet your hand, your hand, has power to crush that evil dream, sweet; 3 DRAKE You, with younger eyes than ours And brows of English may. VIH If a singer cherishes Idle dreams or idle words. You shall judge — and you^ll forgive: for, far away or nigh, Still abides that Vision without which a people perishes: Love will strike the atoning chords! Hark — there comes a cry! IZ Over all this earth, sweet, The poor and weak look up to you — Lift their burdened shoulders, stretch their fettered hands in prayer: You, with gentle hands, can bring the world-wide dream to birth, sweet. While I lift this cup to you And wonder — will she care? 4 PROLOGUE X Kindle^ eyes, and heat, heart! Hold the brimming beaker up! All the may is burgeoning from East to golden West! England, my mother, greet America, my sweetheart: — Ah, but ere I drained the cup I found her on your breast. EXORDIUM WHEN on the highest ridge of that strange land, Under the cloudless, blinding tropic blue, Drake and his band of swarthy seamen stood With dazed eyes gazing round them, emerald fans Of palm that fell like fountains over cliffs Of gorgeous red anana bloom obscured Their sight on every side. Illustrious gleams Of rose and green and gold streamed from the plumes That flashed like living rainbows through the glades. Piratic glints of musketoon and sword, The scarlet scarves around the tawny throats, The bright brass ear-rings in the sun-black ears, And the calm faces of the negro guides Opposed their barbarous bravery to the noon: Yet a deep silence dreadfully besieged 6 EXORDIUM ven those mighty hearts upon the verge f the undiscovered world. Behind them lay he old earth they knew. In front they could not see 7hzt lay beyond the ridge. Only they heard ries of the painted birds troubling the heat nd shivering through the woods; till Francis Drake lunged through the hush, took hold upon a tree, he tallest near them, and clomb upward, branch y branch. And, lo! as he swung clear above he steep-down forest, on his wondering eyes lile upon mile of rugged shimmering gold urst the unknown Immeasurable sea. hen he descended; and with a new voice Vowed that, God helping, he would one day plough Those virgin waters with an English keel. So here before the unattempted task. Above the Golden Ocean of my dream I clomb and saw In splendid pageant pass The wild adventures and heroic deeds 7 DRAKE Of England's epic age — a vision lit With mighty prophecies, fraught with a doom Worthy the great Homeric roll of song, Yet all unsung and unrecorded quite By those who might have touched with Raphael's hand The large imperial legend of our race, Ere it brought forth the braggarts of an hour. Self-worshippers who love their imaged strength. And as a symbol for their own proud selves Misuse the sacred name of this dear land, While England to the Empire of her soul, Like some great Prophet passes through the crowd That cannot understand ; for he must climb Up to that sovran thunder-smitten peak Where he shall grave and trench on adamant The Law that God shall utter by the still Small voice, not by the whirlwind or the fire. There, labouring for the Highest in himself, He shall achieve the good of all mankind; And from that lonely Sinai shall return Triumphant o'er the little gods of gold That rule their little hour upon the plain. 8 EXORDIUM Oh, thou blind master of these opened eyes, Be near me, therefore, now; for not In pride I lift lame hands to this Imperious theme; But yearning to a power above mine own Even as a man might lift his hands In prayer. Or as a child, perchance. In those dark days When London lay beleaguered and the ax Flashed out for Rome In England; and the blood Of martyrs made a purple path for Spain Up to the throne of Mary; as a child Gathering with friends upon a winter's morn For some mock fight between the hateful prince Philip and Thomas Wyatt, all at once Might see In gorgeous ruffs embastloned Popinjay plumes and slouching hats of Spain, Gay shimmering silks and rich encrusted gems. Gold collars, rare brocades, and sleek trunk-hose The Ambassador and peacock courtiers come Strutting along the white snow-strangled street, A walking plot of scarlet Spanish flowers. And with one cry a hundred boyish hands Put them to flight with snowballs, while the wind All round their Spanish ears hissed like a flight 9 DRAKE Of white-winged geese: so may I wage perchance A mimic war with all my heart in it, Munitioned with mere perishable snow, Which mightier hands one day will urge with steel. Yet may they still remember me as I Remember, with one little laugh of love. That child's game, this were wealth enough for me. Mother and love, fair England, hear my prayer; Help me that I may tell the enduring tale Of that great seaman, good at need, who first Sailed round this globe and made one little isle. One little isle against that huge Empire Of Spain, whose might was paramount on earth. Overtopping Babylon, Nineveh, Greece and Rome, Carthage and all huge Empires of the past. He made this little isle, against the world. Queen of the earth and sea. Nor this alone The theme; for, in a mightier strife engaged Even than he knew, he fought for the new faiths, Championing our manhood as it rose And cast its feudal chains before the seat Of kings; — nay, in a mightier battle yet 10 EXORDIUM He fought for the soul's freedom, fought the fight Which, though it still rings In our wondering ears. Was won then and for ever — that great war, That last Crusade of Christ against His priests, Wherein Rome fell behind a thunderous roar Of ocean triumph over burning ships And shattered fleets, while England, England rose. Her white cliffs laughing out across the waves, Victorious over all her enemies. And while he won the world for her domain. Her loins brought forth, her fostering bosom fed Souls that have swept the spiritual seas From heaven to hell, and justified her crown. For round the throne of great Elizabeth Verulam, Burleigh, Sidney, Spenser, More, Clustered like stars, rare Jonson like the crown Of Cassiopeia, Marlowe ruddy as Mars, And over all those mighty hearts arose The soul of Shakespeare brooding far and wide Beyond our small horizons, like a light Thrown from a vaster sun that still illumes Tracts which the arc of our Increasing day Must still leave undiscovered, unexplored. II DRAKE Mother and love, fair England, hear my prayer, As thou didst touch the heart and light the flame Of wonder in those eyes which first awoke To beauty and the sea's adventurous dream Three hundred years ago, three hundred years, And five long decades. In the leafy lanes Of Devon, where the tallest trees that bore The raven's matted nest had yielded up Their booty, while the perilous branches swayed Beneath the boyish privateer, the king Of many young companions — Francis Drake; So hear me and so help, for more than his My need Is, even than when he first set sail Upon that wild adventure with three ships And three-score men from grey old Plymouth Sound, Not knowing if he went to life or death. Nor caring greatly, so that he were true To his own sleepless and unfaltering soul, Which could not choose but hear the ringing call Across the splendours of the Spanish Main From ever fading, ever new horizons, And shores beyond the sunset and the sea. 12 EXORDIUM Mother and sweetheart, England; from whose breast, With all the world before them, they went forth, Thy seamen, o'er the wide uncharted waste, Wider than that Ulysses roamed of old. Even as the wine-dark Mediterranean Is wider than some tide-relinquished pool Among its rocks, yet none the less explored To greater ends than all the pride of Greece And pomp of Rome achieved; if my poor song Now spread too wide a sail, forgive thy son And lover, for thy love was ever wont To lift men up in pride above themselves To do great deeds which of themselves alone They could not; thou hast led the unfaltering feet Of even thy meanest heroes down to death. Lifted poor knights to many a great emprise. Taught them high thoughts, and though they kept their souls Lowly as little children, bidden them lift Eyes unappalled by all the myriad stars That wheel around the great white throne of God. 13 BOOK I NOW through the great doors of the Council-room Magnificently streamed in rich array The peers of England, regal of aspect And grave. Their silence waited for the Queen: And even now she came; and through their midst, Low as they bowed, she passed without a smile And took her royal seat. A bodeful hush Of huge anticipation gripped all hearts, Compressed all brows, and loaded the broad noon With gathering thunder : none knew what the hour Might yet bring forth; but the dark fire of war Smouldered In every eye; for every day The Council met debating how to join Honour with peace, and every day new tales Of English wrongs received from the red hands Of that gigantic Empire, Insolent Spain, spurred fiercer .resentments up like steeds Revolting, on the curb, foaming for battle, 14 BOOK I In all men's minds, against whatever odds. On one side of the throne great Walslngham, A Hon of England, couchant, watchful, calm. Was now the master of opinion : all Drew to him. Even the hunchback Burleigh smiled With half-ironic admiration now, As in the presence of the Queen they met Amid the sweeping splendours of her court, A cynic smile that seemed to say, " I, too. Would fain regain that forthright heart of fire ; Yet statesmanship Is but a smoother name For the superior cunning which ensures iVictory." And the Queen, too, knowing her strength And weakness, though her woman's heart leaped out To courage, yet with woman's craft preferred The subtler strength of Burleigh ; for she knew Mary of Scotland waited for that war To strike her In the side for Rome; she knew How many thousands lurked In England still Remembering Rome and bloody Mary's reign. 15 DRAKE France o'er a wall of bleeding Huguenots Watched for an hour to strike. Against all these What shield could England raise — this little Isle, Outmatched, outnumbered, perilously near Utter destruction? So the long debate Proceeded. All at once there came a cry Along the streets and at the palace gates And at the great doors of the Council-room! Then through the pikes and halberds a voice rose Imperative for entrance, and the guards Made way, and a strange whisper surged around, And through the peers of England thrilled the blood Of Agincourt as to the foot of the throne Came Leicester, for behind him as he came A seaman stumbled, travel-stained and torn. Crying for justice, and gasped out his tale. "The Spaniards,'' he moaned, " the Inquisition! They have taken all my comrades, all our crew. And flung them Into dungeons : there they lie Waiting for England, waiting for their Queen ! j6 Queen Elizabeth, 1585 From a Paintiiig by Nicholas Hilliard BOOK I Will you not free them? I alone am left! All London Is afire with it, for this Was one of your chief city merchant's ships — The Pride of London, one of Osborne's ships I But there Is none to help them ! I escaped With shrieks of torment ringing in these ears, The glare of torture-chambers In these eyes That see no faces anywhere but blind, Blind faces, each a bruise of white that smiles In idiot agony, washed with sweat and blood. The face of some strange thing that once was man, And now can only turn from side to side Babbling like a child, with mouth agape. And crying for help where there is none to hear Save those black vizards In the furnace-glow, Moving like devils at their hellish trade. . . ." He paused; his memory sickened, his brain swooned Back Into that wild glare of obscene pain ! Once more to his ears and nostrils horribly crept The hiss and smell of shrivelling human flesh ! His dumb stare told the rest: his head sank down; He bowed ; he fell ; he strove In agony 17 DRAKE With what all hideous words must leave untold; While Leicester vouched him, " This man's tale IS true I " But like a gathering storm a windy moan Of passion, like a tiger's, slowly crept From the grey lips of Walsingham. " My Queen, Will you not free them?'' Then Elizabeth, Whose name is one for ever with the name Of England, rose ; and in her face the gleam Of justice that makes anger terrible Shone, and she stretched her glittering sceptre forth And spoke, with distant empires in her eyes: " My lords, this is the last cry they shall wring From English lips unheeded: we will have Such remedies for this as all the world Shall tremble at!" And, on that night, while Drake Close in his London lodging lay concealed Until he knew if it were peace or war With Spain (for he had struck on the high seas i8 BOOK I At Spain ; and well he knew if it were peace His blood would be made witness to that bond, And he must die a pirate's death or fly Westward once more) , there all alone, he pored By a struggling rushlight o'er a well-thumbed chart Of magic Islands In the enchanted seas. Dreaming, as boys and poets only dream With those that see God's wonders In the deep, Perilous visions of those palmy keys. Cocoa-nut Islands, parrot-haunted woods, Crisp coral reefs and blue shark-finned lagoons Fringed with the creaming foam, mile upon mile Of mystery. Dream after dream went by. Colouring the brown air of that London night With many a mad miraculous romance. There, suddenly, some augury, some flash Showed him a coming promise, a strange hint, Which, though he played with it, he scarce believed; Strange as In some dark cave the first fierce gleam Of pirate gold to some forlorn maroon Who tiptoes to the heap and glances round Askance, and dreads to hear what erst he longed 19 DRAKE To hear — some voice to break the hush ; but bathes Both hands with childish laughter in the gold, And lets it trickle through his fevered palms, And begins counting half a hundred times And loses count each time for sheer delight And Wonder In It: meantime, If he knew, Passing the cave-mouth, far away, beyond The still lagoon, the coral reef, the foam And the white fluttering chatter of the birds, A sail that might have saved him comes and goes Unseen across the blue Pacific sea. So Drake, too, played with fancies; but that sail Passed not unseen, for suddenly there came A firm and heavy footstep to the door. Then a loud knocking; and, at first, he thought " I am a dead man : there Is peace with Spain, And they are come to lead me to my doom." But, as he looked across one shoulder, pride Checking the fuller watch for what he feared. The door opened; and cold as from the sea The night rushed In, and there against the gloom, Clad, as It seemed, with wind and cloud and rain. There loomed a stately form and high grim face 20 BOOK I Loaded with deadly thoughts of Iron war — Walslngham. In one hand he held a map Marked with red lines ; the other hand held down The rich encrusted hilt of his great sword. Then Drake rose, and the other cautiously Closing the door drew near the flickering light And spread his map out on the table, saying — " Mark for me here the points whereat the King Philip of Spain may best be wounded, mark The joints of his harness;" and Drake looked at him Thinking, '* If he betray me, I am dead." But the soldier met his eyes and, with a laugh, Drake, quivering like a bloodhound In the leash, Stooped, with his finger pointing thus and thus — " Here would I guard, here would I He in wait, Here would I strike him through the breast and throat." And as he spoke he kindled, and began To set forth his great dreams, and high romance Rose like a moon reflecting the true sun Unseen; and as the full round moon Indeed Rising behind a mighty mountain-chain 21 DRAKE Will shadow forth in outline grim and black Its vast and ragged edges, so that moon Of high romance rose greatly shadowing forth The grandeur of his dreams, until their might Dawned upon Walsingham, and he, too, saw For a moment of muffled moonlight and wild cloud The vision of the imperious years to be ! But suddenly Drake paused as one who strays Beyond the bounds of caution, paused and cursed His tongue for prating like a moon-struck boy's. ". I am mad," he cried, " I am mad to babble so ! " Then Walsingham drew near him with strange eyes. And muttered slowly, "Write that madness down; Ay, write it down, that madman's plan of thine; Sign it, and let me take it to the Queen." But the weather-wiser seaman warily Answered him, " If it please Almighty God To take away our Queen Elizabeth, Seeing that she is mortal as ourselves, England might then be leagued with Spain, and I Should here have sealed my doom. I will not put My pen to paper." 22 Sir Francis Walsingham From an Original Painting BOOK I So, across the charts, With that dim light on each grim countenance The seaman and the courtier subtly fenced With words and thoughts, but neither would betray His whole heart to the other. At the last Walsingham gripped the hand of Francis Drake And left him wondering. On the third night came A messenger from Walsingham, who bade Drake to the Palace, where, without one word. The statesman met him in an anteroom And led him, with flushed cheek and beating heart. Along a mighty gold-gloomed corridor Into a high-arched chamber, hung with tall Curtains of gold-fringed silk and tapestries From Flanders looms, whereon were flowers and beasts And forest-work, great knights, with hawk on hand. Riding for ever on their glimmering steeds Through bowery glades to some immortal face Beyond the fairy fringes of the world. A silver lamp swung softly overhead, 23 DRAKE Fed with some perfumed oil that shed abroad Delicious light and fragrances as rare As those that stirred faint wings at eventide Through the King's House In Lebanon of old. Into a quietness as of fallen bloom Their feet sank in that chamber ; and, all round, Soft hills of Moorish cushions dimly drowsed On glimmering crimson couches. Near the lamp An ebony chess-board stood Inlaid with squares Of ruby and emerald, garnished with cinque-foils Of silver, bears and ragged staves : the men, Likewise of precious stones, were all arrayed — Bishops and knights and elephants and pawns — '■ As for a game. Sixteen of them were set In silver white, the other sixteen gilt. Now, as Drake gazed upon an arras, nigh The farther doors, whereon was richly wrought The picture of that grave and lovely queen Penelope, with cold hands weaving still The unending web, while in an outer court The broad-limbed wooers basking In the sun On purple fleeces took from white-armed girls, Up-klrtled to the knee, the crimson wine; 24 BOOK I There, as he gazed and thought, " Is this not like Our Queen Elizabeth, who waits and weaves, Penelope of England, her dark web Unendingly till England's Empire come?" There, as he gazed, for a moment, he could vow The pictured arras moved. Well had it been Had he drawn sword and pierced it through and through ; But he suspected nothing and said nought To Walslngham; for thereupon they heard The sound of a low lute and a sweet voice Carolling like a gold-caged nightingale, Caught by the fowlers ere he found his mate, And singing all his heart out evermore To the unknown forest-love he ne'er should see. And Walslngham smiled sadly to himself. Knowing the weary queen had bidden some maid Sing to her, even as David sang to Saul; Since all her heart was bitter with her love Or so It was breathed (and there the chess-board stood, Her love's device upon it) , though she still. For England's sake, must keep great foreign kings 25 DRAKE Her suitors, wedding no man till she died. Nor did she know how, In her happiest hour Remembered now most sorrowfully, the moon, Vicegerent of the sky, through summer dews, As that sweet ballad tells In plaintive rhyme, Silvering the grey old Cumnor towers and all The hollow haunted oaks that grew thereby. Gleamed on a casement whence the pure white face Of Amy Robsart, wife of Leicester, wife Unknown of the Queen's lover, a frail bar To that proud Earl's ambition, quietly gazed And heard the night-owl hoot a dark presage Of murder through her timid, shuddering heart. But of that deed Elizabeth knew nought; Nay, white as Amy Robsart In her dream Of love she listened to the sobbing lute, Bitterly happy, proudly desolate; So heavy are all earth's crowns and sharp with thorns I But tenderly that high-born maiden sang: 26 BOOK I Song Now the purple night is past, Now the moon more faintly glows, Dawn has through thy casement cast Roses on thy breast, a rose; Now the kisses are all done, Now the world awakes anew. Now the charmed hour is gone, Let not love go, too. When old winter, creeping nigh. Sprinkles raven hair with white, Dims the brightly glancing eye. Laughs away the dancing light, Roses may forget their sun, Lilies may forget their dew. Beauties perish, one by one, Let not love go, too. Palaces and towers of pride Crumble year by year away; Creeds like robes are laid aside. Even our very tombs decay! 27 DRAKE When the all-conquering moth and rust Gnaw the goodly garment through. When the dust returns to dust, Let not love go, too. Kingdoms melt away like snow, Gods are spent like wasting flames, Hardly the new peoples know Their divine thrice-worshipped names! At the last great hour of all, When Thou makest all things new. Father, hear Thy children call, Let not love go, too. The song ceased : all was still ; and now It seemed Power brooded on the silence, and Drake saw A woman come to meet him, — tall and pale And proud she seemed : behind her head two wings As of some mighty phantom butterfly Glimmered with jewel-sparks In the gold gloom. Her small, pure, grey-eyed face above her ruff Was chiselled like an agate; and he knew It was the Queen. Low bent he o'er her hand; And " Ah," she said, " Sir Francis Walslngham 28 BOOK I Hath told me what an English heart beats here! Know you what Injuries the King of Spain Hath done us?" Drake looked up at her: she smiled, ** We find you apt! Will you not be our knight? For we are helpless " — witchlngly she smiled — " We are not ripe for war; our policy Must still be to uphold the velvet cloak Of peace ; but I would have It mask the hand That holds the dagger ! Will you not unfold Your scheme to us? " And then with a low bow Walslngham, at a signal from the Queen, Withdrew; and she looked down at Drake and smiled; And In his great simplicity the man Spake all his heart out like some youthful knight Before his Glorlana: his heart burned. Knowing he talked with England, face to face; And suddenly the Queen bent down to him, England bent down to him, and his heart reeled With the beauty of her presence — for Indeed Women alone have royal power like this Within their very selves enthroned and shrined 29 DRAKE To draw men's hearts out ! Royal she bent down And touched his hand for a moment. " Friend," she said, Looking into his face with subtle eyes, " I have searched thy soul to-night and know full well How I can trust thee ! Canst thou think that I, The daughter of my royal father, lack The fire which every boor In England feels Burning within him as the bloody score Which Spain writes on the flesh of Englishmen Mounts higher day by day? Am I not Tudor? I am not deaf or blind; nor yet a king! I am a woman and a queen, and where Kings would have plunged into their red revenge Or set their throne up on this temporal shore, As flatterers bade that wiser king Canute, Thence to command the advancing tides of battle Till one ensanguined sea whelm throne and king And kingdom ; friend, I take my woman's way. Smile In mine enemies' faces with a heart All hell, and undermine them hour by hour! This Island scarce can fend herself from France, 30 BOOK I And now Spain holds the keys of all the world : How should we fight her, save that my poor wit Hath won the key to Philip ? Oh, I know His treacherous, lecherous heart, and hour by hour My nets are drawing round him. I, that starve My public armies, feed his private foes, Nourish his rebels In the Netherlands, Nay, sacrifice mine own poor woman^s heart To keep him mine — there Is no sacrifice On earth like this — and surely now stands Fate With hand uplifted by the doors of Spain Ready to knock : the time Is close at hand When I shall strike, once, and no second stroke. Remember, friend, though kings have fought for her. This England, with the trident In her grasp. Was ever woman; and she waits her throne; And thou canst speed It. Furnish thee with ships, Gather thy gentleman adventurers, And be assured thy parsimonious queen — -- Oh, ay, she knows that chattering of the world — Will find thee wealth enough. Then put to sea. Fly the black flag of piracy awhile 31 DRAKE Against these blackest foes of all mankind. Nay; what hast thou to do with piracy? Hostis humani generis Indeed Is Spain : she dwells beyond the bounds of law ; Thine Is no piracy, whate'er men say, Thou art a knight on Glorlana's quest. Oh, lay that golden unction to thy soul, This IS no piracy, but glorious war, Waged for thy country and for all mankind; Therefore put out to sea without one fear, Ransack their El Dorados of the West, Pillage their golden galleons, sap their strength Even at Its utmost fountains: let them know That there Is blood, not water, In our veins. Carry thy scheme out to the glorious end. And, though at first thou needs must ride alone And unsupported, ere that end is reached. When I shall give the word, nay, but one word, All England shall be up and after thee : The sword of England shall shine over thee, And round about thee like a guardian fire ; All the great soul of England shall be there; Her mighty dead shall at that cry of doom 32 BOOK I Rise from their graves, and In God's panoply Plunge with out standards through immortal storms When Drake rides out across the wreck of Rome. As yet we must be cautious ; let no breath Escape thee, save to thy most trusted friends; For now. If my lord Burleigh heard one word Of all thou hast In mind, he Is so much The friend of caution and the beaten road He would not rest till he had wrecked thy hopes And sealed thy doom ! Go now, fit out thy ships. Walslngham Is empowered to give thee gold Immediately, but look to him for more As thou shalt need It, gold and gold to spare, My golden-hearted pilot to the shores Of Empire — so farewell; " and through the gloom She vanished as she came; and Drake groped, dazed. Out through the doors, and found great Walslng- ham Awaiting him with gold. But In the room DRAKE Where Drake had held his converse with the Queen The embroidered arras moved, and a lean face, White with its long eavesdropping upon death. Crept out and peered as a venomous adder peers From out dark ferns, then as the reptile flashes Along a path between two banks of flowers Almost too swift for sight, a stealthy form — •- One of the fifty spies whom Burleigh paid — Passed down the gold-gloomed corridor to seek His master, whom among great books he found. Calm, like a mountain brooding o'er the sea. Nor did he break that calm for all these winds Of rumour that now burst from out the sky. His brow bent like a cliff over his thoughts, And the spy watched him half resentfully. Thinking his news well worth a blacker frown. At last the statesman smiled and answered, " Go; Fetch Thomas Doughty, Leicester's secretary." Few suns had risen and set ere Francis Drake Had furnished forth his ships with guns and men. Tried seamen that he knew in storms of old, — 34 BOOK I Will Harvest, who could haul the ropes and fight All day, and sing a foc'sle song to cheer Sea-weary hearts at night; brave old Tom Moone The carpenter, whose faithful soul looked up To Drake's large mastery with a mastiff's eyes; And three-score trusty mariners, all scarred And weather-beaten. After these there came Some two-score gentleman adventurers, Gay college lads or lawyers that had grown Sick of the* dusty Temple, and were fired With tales of the rich Indies and those tall Enchanted galleons drifting through the West, Laden with Ingots and broad bars of gold. Already some had bought at a great price Green birds of Guatemala, which they wore On their slouched hats, tasting the high romance And new-found colours of the world like wine. By night they gathered in a marvellous inn Beside the black and secret flowing Thames; And joyously they tossed the magic phrase "Pieces of eight" from mouth to mouth, and laughed And held the red wine up, night after night, 35 DRAKE Around their tables, toasting Francis Drake. Among these came a courtier, and none knew Or asked by whose approval, for each thought Some other brought him ; yet he made his way Cautiously, being a man with a smooth tongue, The secretary of Leicester; and his name Was Thomas Doughty. Most of all with Drake He won his way to friendship, till at last There seemed one heart between them and one soul. ^ 36 BOOK II SO on a misty grey December morn Five ships put out from calm old Plym- outh Sound; Five little ships, the largest not so large As many a coasting yacht or fishlng-trawl To-day; yet these must brave uncharted seas Of unlmagined terrors, haunted glooms, And shadowy horrors of an unknown world Wild as primaeval chaos. In the first, The Golden Hynde, a ship of eighteen guns, Drake sailed : John Wynter, a queen's captain, next Brought out the Elizabeth, a stout new ship Of sixteen guns. The pinnace Christopher Came next, in staunch command of old Tom Moone Who, five years back, with reeking powder grimed, Off Cartagena fought against the stars All night, and, as the sun arose in blood. Knee-deep in blood and brine, stood in the dark 37 DRAKE Perilous hold and scuttled his own ship The Swan, bidding her go down to God's great deep Rather than yield her up a prize to Spain. Lastly two gentleman-adventurers Brought out the new Swan and the Mary gold. Their crews, all told, were eight score men and boys. Not only terrors of the deep they braved, Bodiless witchcrafts of the black abyss. Red gaping mouths of hell and gulfs of fire That yawned for all who passed the tropic line; But death lurked round them from their setting forth. Mendoza, plenipotentiary of Spain, By spies Informed, had swiftly warned his king, Who sent out mandates through his huge empire From Guadalchlber to the golden West For the Instant sinking of all English ships And the Instant execution of their crews Who durst appear In the Caribbean Sea. Moreover, in the pith of their emprise 38 BOOK II A peril lurked — Burleigh's emissaries, The smooth-tongued Thomas Doughty, who had brought His brother— unacqultted of that charge Of poisoning, raised against him by the friends Of Essex, but In luckless time released Lately for lack of proof, on no strong plea. These two wound through them like two snakes at ease In Eden, waiting for their venomous hour. Especially did Thomas Doughty toll With soft and flowery tongue to win his way; And Drake, whose rich Imagination craved For something more than simple seaman's talk, Was marvellously drawn to this new friend. Who with the scholar's mind, the courtier's gloss, The lawyer's wit, the adventurer's romance. Gold honey from the blooms of Euphues, Rare flashes from the Mermaid and sweet smiles Copied from Sidney's self, even to the glance Of sudden, liquid sympathy, gave Drake That banquet of the soul he ne'er had known Nor needed till he knew, but needed now. 39 DRAKE So to the light of Doughty's answering eyes He poured his Inmost thoughts out, hour by hour ; And Doughty colled up In the heart of Drake. Against such odds the tiny fleet set sail; Yet gallantly and with heroic pride, Escutcheoned pavlsades, emblazoned poops, Banners and painted shields and close-fights hung With scarlet broideries. Every polished gun Grinned through the jaws of some heraldic beast, Gilded and carven and gleaming with all hues; While In the cabin of the Golden Hynde Rich perfumes floated, given by the great Queen Herself to Drake as Captain-General; So that It seemed her soul was with the fleet, A presence to remind him, far away, Of how he talked with England face to face, — No pirate he, but Glorlana's knight. Silver and gold his table furniture. Engraved and richly chased, lavishly gleamed While, fanned by favouring airs, the ships ad- vanced With streaming flags and ensigns and sweet chords 40 A BOOK II Of music struck by skilled musicians Whom Drake brought with him, not from vanity, But knowing how the pulse of men beats high To music; and the hearts of men like these Were open to the high romance of earth. And they that dwelt so near God's mystery Were proud of their own manhood. They went out To danger as to a sweetheart far away, Who even now was drawing the western clouds Like a cymar of silk and snow-white furs Close to her, till her body's beauty seemed Clad in a mist of kisses. They desired Her glittering petulance and her sulky sweet Red pouts of anger. They went out to her With pomp and ceremony, richly attired And girt about with honour as befit Souls that might talk with angels by the way. Light as the sea-birds dipping their white wings In foam before the gently heaving prows Each heart beat, while the low soft lapping splash Of water racing past them ripped and tore 41 DRAKE Whiter and faster, and the bellying sails Filled out, and the white cliffs of England sank Dwindling behind the broad grey plains of sea. Meekly content and tamely stay-at-home The sea-birds seemed that piped across the waves; And Drake, be-mused, leaned smiling to his friend Doughty and said, " Is It not strange to know When we return yon speckled herring-gulls Will still be wheeling, dipping, flashing there Just as we leave them? Ah, my heart cries out We shall not find a sweeter land afar Than those thyme-scented hills we leave behind! Soon the young lambs will bleat across the combes, And breezes will bring puffs of hawthorn scent Down Devon lanes; over the purple moors Lavrocks will carol and the plover cry, The nesting peewit cry; on village greens Around the May-pole, while the moon hangs low, The boys and girls of England merrily swing In country footing through the flowery dance ; Roses return : I blame them not who stay, I blame them not at all who cling to home. For many of us indeed shall not return, 42 BOOK II Nor ever know that sweetness any more. But when our English clover once again Reddens round valleys thick with waving gold, Many beyond the faintest flush of dawn Shall sleep for ever In the cold green sea: 'TIs only we poor wandering prodigals That know the worth and wealth of heaven and home. Bear with my weakness, for my heart is full Of yonder England, our sweet Ida mount, Mother of all our hopes and dreams and prayers, Nor do I think a man needs be ashamed Whose eyes grow wet to leave his native land ; For there Is nought a man should hold more dear Than his own country and his father's home." Then the other with a laugh, ^' Nay, like the man Who slept a hundred years we shall return And find our England strange: there are great storms Brewing; God only knows what we shall find — Perchance a Spanish king upon the throne ! What then? " And Drake, " I should put down my helm, 43 DRAKE And out once more to the unknown golden West To die, as I have lived, an Englishman.'' So said he, while the white cliffs dwindled down, Faded, and vanished; but the prosperous wind Carried the five ships onward over the swell Of swinging, sweeping seas, till the sun sank. And height o'er height the chaos of the skies Broke out Into the miracle of the stars. Frostily glittering, all the Milky Way Lay bare like diamond-dust upon the robe Of some great king. Orion and the Plough Glimmered through drifting gulfs of silver fleece, And, far away. In Italy, that night Young Galileo, looking upward, heard The self-same whisper through that wild abyss Which now called Drake out to the unknown West. But, after supper, Drake came up on deck With Doughty, and on the cold poop as they leaned And gazed across the rolling gleam and gloom Of mighty muffled seas, began to give iVoice to those lovely captives of the brain Which, like princesses In some forest-tower, 44 BOOK II Still yearn for the delivering prince, the sweet Far bugle-note that calls from answering minds. He told him how, in those dark days which now Seemed like an evil dream, when the Princess Elizabeth even trembled for her life And read there, by the gleam of Smithfield fires, Those cunning lessons of diplomacy Which saved her then and now for England's sake, He passed his youth. 'Twas when the power of Rome Began to light the gloom with that great glare Of martyrdom which, while the stars endure, Bears witness how men overcame the world. Trod the red flames beneath their feet like flowers — Yea, cast aside the blackening robe of flesh, While with a crown of joy upon their heads, Even as into a palace, they passed through The portals of the tomb to prove their love Stronger at least than death : and, in those days A Puritan, with Iron in his soul. Having In earlier manhood occupied His business in great waters and beheld 45 DRAKE The bloody cowls of the Inquisition pass Before the midnight moon as he kept watch; And having then forsworn the steely sea To dwell at home in England with his love At Tavistock in Devon, Edmund Drake Began, albeit too near the Abbey walls, To speak too staunchly for his ancient faith; And with his young child Francis, had to flee By night at last for shelter to the coast. Little the boy remembered of that flight, Pinioned behind his father, save the clang And clatter of the hoofs on stony ground Striking a sharp blue fire, while country tales Of highwaymen kindled his reckless heart As the great steed went shouldering through the night. There Francis, laying a little sunburnt hand On the big bolstered pistol at each side. Dreamed with his wide grey eyes that he himself Was riding out on some freebooting quest. And felt himself heroic. League by league The magic world rolled past him as they rode. Leaving him nothing but a memory 46 BOOK II Of his own making. Vaguely he perceived A thousand meadows darkly streaming by With clouds of perfume from their secret flowers, A wayside cottage-window pointing out A golden finger o'er the purple road; A puff of garden roses or a waft Of honeysuckle blown along a wood, While overhead that silver ship, the moon, Sailed slowly down the gulfs of glittering stars, Till, at the last, a buffet of fresh wind Fierce with sharp savours of the stinging brine Against his dreaming face brought up a roar Of mystic welcome from the Channel seas. And there Drake paused for a moment, as a song Stole o'er the waters from the Mary gold, Where some musician, striking luscious chords Of sweet-stringed music, freed his heart's desire In symbols of the moment, which the rest. And Doughty among them, scarce could understand. 47 DRAKE Song The moon is up: the stars are bright: The wind is fresh and free! We^re out to seek for gold to-night Across the silver sea! The world was growing grey and old, Break out the sails again! WeWe out to seek a Realm of Gold Beyond the Spanish Main. WeWe sick of all the cringing knees y The courtly smiles and lies! God, let Thy singing Channel breeze Lighten our hearts and eyes! Let love no more be bought and sold For earthly loss or gain: WeWe out to seek an Age of Gold Beyond the Spanish Main, Beyond the light of far Cathay, Beyond all mortal dreams, Beyond the reach of night and day Our Eldorado gleams, 48 . , BOOK II Revealing — as the skies unfold — A star without a stain, The Glory of the Gates of Gold Beyond the Spanish Main. And, as the skilled musician made the words Of momentary meaning still Imply His own eternal hope and heart's desire, Without belief, perchance. In Drake's own quest — To Drake's own greater mind the eternal glory Seemed to transfigure his Immediate hope. But Doughty only heard a sweet concourse Of sounds: they ceased, and Drake resumed his tale Of that strange flight In boyhood to the sea. Next, the red-curtained Inn and kindly hands Of Protestant Plymouth held his memory long; Often In strange and distant dreams he saw That scene which now he tenderly pourtrayed To Doughty's half-Ironic smiling lips, Half-sympathetic eyes; he saw again That small Inn parlour with homely fare Set forth upon the table, saw the gang 49 DRAKE Of seamen reeking from the spray come In, Like great new thoughts to some adventurous brain. Feeding his wide grey eyes he saw them stand Around the crimson fire and stamp their feet And scatter the salt drops from their big sea-boots ; And all that night he lay awake and heard Mysterious thunderings of eternal tides Moaning out of a cold and houseless gloom Beyond the world, that made it seem most sweet To slumber In a little four-walled inn Immune from all that vastness. But at dawn He woke, he leapt from bed, he ran and lookt. There, through the tiny high bright casement, there, — ^ Oh, fairy vision of that small boy's face Peeping at daybreak through the diamond pane ! — There first he saw the wondrous new-born world, And round its princely shoulders wildly flowing, Gemmed with a myriad clusters of the sun. The magic azure mantle of the sea. And, afterwards, there came those marvellous days When, on that battleship, a disused hulk 50 BOOK II Rotting to death in Chatham Reach, they found Sanctuary and a dwelling-place at last. For Hawkins, that great shipman, being their friend, A Protestant, with power on Plymouth town, Nigh half whereof he owned, made Edmund Drake Reader of prayer to all the ships of war That lay therein. So there the dreaming boy, Francis, grew up in that grim nursery Among the ropes and masts and great dumb mouths Of idle ordnance. In that hulk he heard Many a time his father and his friends Over some wild-eyed troop of refugees Thunder against the powers of Spain and Rome, *' Idolaters, who defiled the House of God In England; " and all round them, as he heard. The clang and clatter of shipwright hammers rang, And hour by hour upon his vision rose, In solid oak reality, new ships, As Ilion rose to music, ships of war, 51 DRAKE The visible shapes and symbols of his dream, Unconscious yet, but growing as they grew, A wondrous incarnation, hour by hour. Till with their towering masts they stood complete, Embodied thoughts, in God's own dockyards built. For Drake ere long to lead against the world. There, as to round the tale with ringing gold, Across the waters from the full-plumed Swan The music of a Mermaid roundelay — Our Lady of the Sea, a Dorian theme Tuned to the soul of England — charmed the moon. Song I Queen Venus wandered away with a cry, — N^oserez vous, mon hel ami? — For the purple wound in Adon's thigh; Je vous en prie, pity me ; With a bitter farewell from sky to sky. And a moan — a moan from sea to sea; N*oserez vous, mon hel, mon hel, N*oserez vous, mon hel ami? 52 BOOK II II The soft iEgean heard her sigh, — N^oserez vous, mon hel ami? — Heard the Spartan hills reply, Je vous en pr'ie, pity me; Spain was aware of her drawing nigh Foot-gilt from the blossoms of Italy; N^oserez vous, mon hel, mon hel, N^oserez vous, mon hel ami? Ill In France they heard her voice go by, — N^oserez vous, mon hel ami? — And on the May-wind droop and die, Je vous en prie, pity me; Your maidens choose their loves, but I — White as I came from the foam-white sea, N'oserez vous, mon hel, mon hel, N'oserez vous, mon hel ami? IV The warm red-meal-winged butterfly, — N'oserez vous, mon hel ami? — 53 DRAKE Beat on her breast in the golden rye, — Je vous en prie^ pity me, — Stained her breast with a dusty dye Red as the print of a kiss might be I N'oserez vous, mon bel, mon hel, N^oserez vous, mon bel ami? V Is there no land, afar or nigh, — N'oserez vous, mon hel ami? — But dreads the kiss o' the sea? Ah, why — Je vous en prie, pity me ! — Why will ye cling to the loves that die? Is earth all Adon to my plea ? N'oserez vous, mon hel, mon hel, N'oserez vous, mon hel ami? VI Under the warm blue summer sky, — N'oserez vous, mon hel ami? — With outstretched arms and a low long sigh,- Je vous en prie, pity me; — Over the Channel they saw her fly 54 BOOK II To the white-cliffed island that crowns the sea, N^oserez vous, mon hel, mon bel, N^oserez vous, mon bel ami? VII England laughed as her Queen drew nigh, — N^oserez vous, mon bel ami? — To the white-walled cottages gleaming high, Je vous en prie, pity me I They drew her in with a joyful cry To the hearth where she sits with a babe on her knee. She has turned her moan to a lullaby. She is nursing a son to the kings of the sea, N'oserez vous, mon bel, mon bel, N*oserez vous, mon bel ami? Such memories, on the plunging Golden Hynde, Under the stars, Drake drew before his friend Doughty; but touched most briefly on his great Voyage to Darien, and the famous Tree, And those wild exploits down to Rio Grande, 55 DRAKE Which even now had made his fierce renown Terrible to all lonely ships of Spain. E^en now, indeed, that poet of Portugal, Lope de Vega, filled with this new fear Began to meditate his epic muse Till, like a cry of panic from his lips, He shrilled the faint Dragontea forth, wherein Drake is that Dragon of the Apocalypse, The dread Antagonist of God and Man. Well had It been for Doughty on that night Had he not heard what followed; for, indeed. When two minds clash, not often does the less Conquer the greater; but, without one thought Of evil, seeing they now were safe at sea, Drake told him, only somewhat, yet too much. Of that close conference with the Queen. And, lo! The face of Doughty blanched with a slow thought That crept like a cold worm through all his brain, ** Thus much I knew, though secretly, before ; But here he freely tells me as his friend; If I am false and he is what they say, 56 BOOK II His knowledge of my knowledge will mean death." But Drake looked round at Doughty with a smile And said, " Forgive me now : thou art not used To these cold nights at sea ! thou tremblest, friend; Let us go down and drink a cup of sack To our return ! " And at that kindly smile Doughty shook off his nightmare mood, and thought, " I am no sea-dog, but a man of birth ! The yard-arm is for dogs, not gentlemen ! Even Drake would not misuse a man of birth! " And in the cabin of the Golden Hynde Revolving subtle treacheries he sat. There with the sugared phrases of the court And general sentiments which Drake believed Were revelations of the man's own mxind, Bartering beads for gold, he drew out all The simple Devon seaman's inmost heart, And coiled up In the soul of Francis Drake. There In the solemn night they Interchanged Lies for sweet confidences. From one wall The picture of Drake's love looked down on him; And, like a bashful schoolboy's, that bronzed face 57 DRAKE Flushed as he blurted out with brightening eyes And quickening breath how he had seen her first, Crowned on the village green, a Queen of May. Her name, too, was Elizabeth, he said. As If It proved that she, too, was a queen. Though crowned with milk-white Devon may alone, And queen but of one plot of meadow-sweet. As yet, he said, he had only kissed her hand. Smiled in her eyes and — there Drake also blanched. Thinking, " I ne'er may see her face again," And Doughty comforted his own dark heart Thinking, *' I need not fear so soft a soul As this " ; and yet, he wondered how the man. Seeing his love so gripped him, none the less Could leave her, thus to follow after dreams; For faith to Doughty was an unknown word, And trustfulness the property of fools. At length they parted, each to his own couch. Doughty with half a chuckle, Francis Drake With one old-fashioned richly grateful prayer Blessing all those he loved, as he had learnt Beside his mother's knee in Devon days. 58 BOOK II So all night long they sailed; but when a rift Of orchard crimson broke the yellowing gloom And barred the closely clouded East with dawn, Behold, a giant galleon overhead. Lifting its huge black shining sides on high, Loomed like some misty monster of the deep : And, sullenly rolling out great gorgeous folds Over her rumbled like a thunder-cloud The heavy flag of Spain. The splendid poop, Mistily lustrous as a dragon's hoard Seen In some magic cave-mouth o'er the sea Through shimmering April sunlight after rain, Blazed to the morning; and her port-holes grinned With row on row of cannon. There at once One sharp shrill whistle sounded, and those five Small ships, mere minnows clinging to the flanks Of that Leviathan, unseen, unheard. Undreamt of, grappled her. She seemed asleep. Swinging at ease with great half-slackened sails. Majestically careless of the dawn. There in the very native seas of Spain, There with the yeast and foam of her proud cliffs, Her own blue coasts. In sight across the waves, 59 DRAKE Up her Titanic sides without a sound The naked-footed British seamen swarmed With knives between their teeth : then on her decks They dropped like panthers, and the softly fierce Black-bearded watch of Spaniards, all amazed, Rubbing their eyes as if at a wild dream, Upraised a sudden shout. El Draqiie! El Draque! And flashed their weapons out, but all too late; For, ere their sleeping comrades reached the deck, The little watch, outnumbered and outmatched, Lay bound, and o'er the hatches everywhere The points of naked cutlasses on guard Gleamed, and without a struggle those below Gave up their arms, their poignards jewelled thick With rubies, and their blades of Spanish steel. Then onward o'er the great grey gleaming sea They swept with their rich booty, night and day. Five other prizes, one for every ship, Out of the seas of Spain they suddenly caught And carried with them, laughing as they w^ent — "Now, now indeed the Rubicon is crossed; Now have we singed the eyelids and the beard 60 BOOK II Of Spain; now have we roused the hornet's nest; Now shall we sail against a world in arms; Now we have nought between us and black death But our own hands, five ships, and three score guns." So laughed they, plunging through the bay of storms, Biscay, and past Gibraltar, not yet clothed With British thunder, though, as one might dream. Gazing in dim prophetic grandeur out Across the waves while that small fleet went by. Or watching them with love's most wistful fear As they plunged Southward to the lonely coasts Of Africa, till right in front up-soared. Tremendous over ocean, Teneriffe, Cloud-robed, but crowned with colours of the dawn. Already those two traitors were at work, Doughty and his false brother, among the crews, Who knew not yet the vastness of their quest, Nor dreamed of aught beyond the accustomed world; For Drake had kept It secret, and the thoughts 6i DRAKE Of some that he had shipped before the mast Set sail scarce farther than for Mogadore In West Morocco, or at the utmost mark For northern Egypt, by the midnight woods And crystal palace roofed with chrysoprase, Where Prester John had reigned five hundred years, And Sydon, river of jewels, through the dark Enchanted gorges rolled Its rays along! Some thought of Rio Grande ; but scarce to ten The true intent was known ; while to divert The rest from care the skilled musicians played. But those two Doughtys cunningly devised By chance-dropt words to breathe a hint abroad; And through the foc'sles crept a grisly fear Of things that lay beyond the bourne of earth, Till even those hardy seamen almost quailed; And now, at any moment, they might turn With terror in their eyes. They might refuse To sail Into that fabled burning Void Or brave that primuim mobile which drew O'er-daring ships Into the jaws of hell Beyond the Pole Antartlcke, where the sea 62 BOOK II Rushed down through fiery mountains, and no sail Could e'er return against Its roaring stream. Now down the coast of Barbary they cruised Till Christmas Eve embraced them in the heart Of summer. In a bay of mellow calm They moored, and as the fragrant twilight brought The stars, the sound of song and dance arose; And down the shores In stealthy silence crept, Out of the massy forest's emerald gloom, The naked, dark-limbed children of the night. Unseen, to gaze upon the floating glare Of revelry; unheard, to hear that strange New music of the gods, where o'er the soft Ripple and wash of the lanthorn-crlmsoned tide Win Harvest's voice above the chorus rang. Song In Devonshire, now, the Christmas chime Is carolling over the lea; And the sexton shovels away the snow From the old church porch, maybe; And the waits with their lanthorns and noses a- glow 63 DRAKE Come round for their Christmas fee; But, as in old England ifs Christmas-time, Why, so is it here at sea. My lads, Why, so is it here at sea! When the ship comes home, from turret to poop Filled full with Spanish gold, There'll be many a country dance and joke, And many a tale to be told; Every old woman shall have a red cloak To fend her against the cold; And every old man shall have a big round stoup Of jolly good ale and old. My lads, Jolly good ale and old! But on the morrow came a prosperous wind Whereof they took advantage, and shook out The flashing sails, and held their Christmas feast Upon the swirling ridges of the sea: And, sweeping Southward with full many a rouse And shout of laughter, at the fall of day, 64 BOOK II While the black prows drove, leapt, and plunged, and ploughed Through the broad dazzle of sunset-coloured tides, Outside the cabin of the Golden Hynde, Where Drake and his chief captains dined In state, The skilled musicians made a great new song. Song I Happy by the hearth sit the lasses and the lads, now, Roasting of their chestnuts , toasting of their toes! When the door is opened to a blithe nezv-comer, Stamping like a ploughman to shuffle of the snows; Rosy flower-like faces through the soft red fire^ light Float as if to greet us, far away at sea, Sigh as they remember, and turn the sigh to laughter, 65 DRAKE Kiss beneath the mistletoe and wonder at their glee. JVith their *' heigh ho, the holly! This life is most jolly /^^ Christmas-time is kissing-time; Away with melancholy I II Ah, the Yule of England, the happy Yule of England, Yule of berried holly and the merry mistletoe; The hoa/s head, the brown ale, the blue snap- dragon. Yule of groaning tables and the crimson log aglow! Yule, the golden bugle to the scattered old companions, Ringing as with laughter, shining as through tears! Loved of little children, oh guard the holy Yule- tide, Guard it, men of England, for the child beyond the years, 66 BOOK II With its ''heigh ho, the holly!'* Away with melancholy/ Christmas-time is kissing-time, '' This life is most jolly!** Now to the Fortunate Islands of old time They came, and found no glory as of old Encircling them, no red ineffable calm Of sunset round crowned faces pale with bliss Like evening stars; but rugged, waste, and wild Those isles were when they neared them, though afar They beautifully smouldered in the sun Like dusky purple jewels fringed and frayed With silver foam across that ancient sea Of wonder. On the largest of the seven Drake landed Doughty with his musketeers To exercise their weapons and to seek Supplies among the matted uncouth huts Which, as the ships drew round each ragged cliff, Crept like remembered misery into sight; Oh, like the strange dull waking from a dream They blotted out the rosy courts and fair 67 DRAKE Imagined marble thresholds of the King Achilles and the heroes that were gone. But Drake cared nought for these things. Such a heart He had, to make each utmost ancient bourne Of man's imagination but a point Of new departure for his Golden Dream. But Doughty with his men ashore, alone. Among the sparse wind-bitten groves of palm, Kindled their fears of all they must endure On that immense adventure. Nay, sometimes He hinted of a voyage far beyond All history and fable, far beyond Even that Void whence only two returned, — Columbus, with his men in mutiny; Magellan, who could only hound his crew Onward by threats of death, until they turned In horror from the Threat that lay before, Preferring to be hanged as mutineers Rather than venture farther. Nor indeed Did even Magellan at the last return; But, with all hell around him, in the clutch Of devils died upon some savage Isle 68 BOOK II By poisonous black enchantment. Not In vain Were Doughty's words on that volcanic shore Among the stunted dark acacia trees, Whose heads, all bent one way by the trade-wind, Pointed Northeast by North, Southwest by West, Ambiguous sibyls that with wizened arms Mysteriously declared a twofold path. Homeward or onward. But aboard the ships, Among the hardier seamen, old Tom Moone, With one or two stout comrades, overbore All doubts and questionings with blither tales Of how they sailed to Darlen and heard Nightingales In November all night long As down a coast like Paradise they cruised Through seas of lasting summer, Eden Isles, Where birds like rainbows, butterflies like gems, And flowers like coloured fires o'er fairy creeks Floated and flashed beneath the shadowy palms; While ever and anon a bark canoe With naked Indian maidens flower-festooned Put out from shadowy coves, laden with fruit Ambrosial o'er the silken shimmering sea. And once a troop of nut-brown maidens came — 69 DRAKE So said Tom Moone, a twinkle In his eye — Swimming to meet them through the warm blue waves And wantoned through the water, like those nymphs Which one green April at the Mermaid Inn He heard Kit Marlowe mightily pourtray, Among his boon companions, In a song Of Love that swam the sparkling Hellespont Upheld by nymphs, not lovelier than these, — Though whiter yet not lovelier than these ; For those like flowers, but these like rounded fruit Rosily ripening through the clear tides tossed From nut-brown breast and arm all round the ship The thousand-coloured spray. Shapely of limb They were; but as they laid their small brown hands Upon the ropes we cast them. Captain Drake Suddenly thundered at them and bade them pack For a troop of naughty wenches ! At that tale A tempest of fierce laughter rolled around The foc'sle; but one boy from London town, A pale-faced prentice, run-away to sea, 70 BOOK II Asking why Drake had bidden them pack so soon, Tom Moone turned to him with his deep-sea growl, " Because our Captain is no pink-eyed boy Nor soft-limbed Spaniard, but a staunch-souled Man, Full-blooded; nerved like iron; with a girl He loves at home in Devon; and a mind For ever bent upon some mighty goal, I know not what — but 'tis enough for me To know my Captain knows." And then he told How sometimes o'er the gorgeous forest gloom Some marble city, rich, mysterious, white. An ancient treasure-house of Aztec kings. Or palace of forgotten Incas gleamed; And in their dim rich lofty cellars gold. Beyond all wildest dreams, great bars of gold. Like pillars, tossed in mighty chaos, gold And precious stones, agate and emerald, Diamond, sapphire, ruby, and sardonyx. So said he, as they waited the return Of Doughty, resting in the foc'sle gloom. Or idly couched about the sun-swept decks 71 DRAKE On sails or colls of rope, while overhead Some boy would climb the rigging and look out, Arching his hand to see if Doughty came. But when he came, he came with a strange face Of feigned despair; and with a stammering tongue He vowed he could not find those poor supplies Which Drake himself In other days had found Upon that self-same island. But, perchance, This was a barren year, he said. And Drake Looked at him, suddenly, and at the musketeers. Their eyes were strained; their faces wore a cloud. That night he said no more; but on the morn, Mistrusting nothing, Drake with subtle sense Of weather-wisdom, through that little fleet Distributed his crews anew. And all The prisoners and the prizes at those isles They left behind them, taking what they would From out their carven cabins, — glimmering silks, Chiselled Toledo blades, and broad doubloons. And, lo! as they weighed anchor, far away Behind them on the blue horizon line It seemed a city of towering masts arose; And from the crow's nest of the Golden Hynde 72 BOOK II A seaman cried, "By God; the hunt is up!" And like a tide of triumph through their veins The red rejoicing blood began to race As there they saw the avenging ships of Spain, Eight mighty galleons, nosing out their trail. And Drake growled, "Oh, my lads of Bideford, It cuts my heart to show the hounds our heels; But we must not imperil our great quest ! Such fights as that must wait — as our reward When we return. Yet I will not put on One stitch of sail. So, lest they are not too slow To catch us, clear the decks. God, I should like To fight them ! " So the little fleet advanced With decks all cleared and shotted guns and men "Bare-armed beside them, hungering to be caught, And quite distracted from their former doubts ; For danger, In that kind, they never feared. But soon the heavy Spaniards dropped behind; And not in vain had Thomas Doughty sown The seeds of doubt; for many a brow grew black With sullen-seeming care that erst was gay. But happily and in good time there came, Not from behind them now, but right in front, 73 DRAKE On the first sun-down of their quest renewed, Just as the sea grew dark around their ships, A chance that loosed heart-gnawing doubt in deeds. For through a mighty zone of golden haze Blotting the purple of the gathering night A galleon like a floating mountain moved To meet them, clad with sunset and with dreams. Her masts and spars immense in jewelled mist Shimmered : her rigging, like an emerald web Of golden spiders, tangled half the stars ! Embodied sunset, dragging the soft sky O'er dazzled ocean, through the night she drew Out of the unknown lands ; and round a prow That jutted like a moving promontory Over a cloven wilderness of foam, Upon a lofty blazoned scroll her name San Salvador challenged obsequious isles Where'er she rode; who kneeling like dark slaves Before some great Sultan must lavish forth From golden cornucopias. East and West, Red streams of rubies, cataracts of pearl. But, at a signal from their admiral, all 74 BOOK II Those five small ships lay silent in the gloom Which, just as if some god were on their side, Covered them in the dark troughs of the waves, Letting her pass to leeward. On she came, Blazing with lights, a City of the Sea, Belted with crowding towers and clouds of sail, And round her bows a long-drawn thunder rolled Splendid with foam; but ere she passed them by, Drake gave the word, and with one crimson flash Two hundred yards of black and hidden sea Leaped into sight between them as the roar Of twenty British cannon shattered the night. Then after her they drove, like black sea-wolves Behind some royal high-branched stag of ten, Hanging upon those bleeding foam-flecked flanks, Leaping, snarling, worrying, as they went In full flight down the wind; for those light ships Much speedier than their huge antagonist, Keeping to windward, worked their will with her. In vain she burnt wild lights and strove to scan The darkening deep. Her musketeers In vain Provoked the crackling night with random fires: In vain her broadside bellowlngs burst at large, 75 DRAKE As if the Gates of Erebus unrolled. For ever and anon the deep-sea gloom From some new quarter, like a dragon's mouth Opened and belched forth crimson flames and tore Her sides as if with iron claws unseen; Till, all at once, rough voices close at hand Out of the darkness thundered, " Grapple her! " And, falling on their knees, the Spaniards knew The Dragon of that red Apocalypse. There with one awful cry, ElDraque! El Draque! They cast their weapons from them ; for the moon Rose, eastward, and against her rising black Over the bloody bulwarks Francis Drake, Grasping the great hilt of his naked sword, Towered for a moment to their startled eyes Through all the zenith like the King of Hell. Then he leaped down upon their shining decks. And after him swarmed and towered and leapt in haste A brawny band of three score Englishmen, Gigantic as they loomed against the sky And risen, it seemed, by miracle from the sea. So small were those five ships below the walls 76 BOOK II Of that huge floating mountain. Royally Drake, from the swart commander's trembling hands Took the surrendered sword, and bade his men Gather the fallen weapons on an heap, And placed a guard about them, while the moon Silvering the roUing seas for many a mile Glanced on the huddled Spaniards' rich attire, As like one picture of despair they grouped Under the splintered main-mast's creaking shrouds, And the great swinging shadows of the sails Mysteriously swept the gleaming decks; Where many a butt of useless cannon gloomed Along the accoutred bulwarks or upturned. As the ship wallowed In the heaving deep. Dumb mouths of empty menace to the stars. Then Drake appointed Doughty, with a guard, To sail the prize on to the next dim isle Where they might leave her, taking aught they would From out her carven cabins and rich holds. And Doughty's heart leaped in him as he thought, 77 DRAKE " I have my chance at last"; but Drake, who still Trusted the man, made surety doubly sure, And in his wary weather-wisdom sent — Even as a breathing type of friendship, sent — His brother, Thomas Drake, aboard the prize; But set his brother, his own flesh and blood, Beneath the man, as If to say, *' I give My loyal friend dominion over me." So courteously he dealt with him ; but he. Seeing his chance once more slipping away, Raged Inwardly and, from his own false heart Imputing his own evil, he contrived A cunning charge that night; and when they came Next day, at noon, upon the destined isle, He suddenly spat the secret venom forth, With such fierce wrath in his defeated soul That he himself almost believed the charge. For when Drake stepped on the San Salvador To order all things duly about the prize, What booty they must keep and what let go. Doughty received him with a blustering voice Of red mock-rlghtcous wrath, *' Is this the way Englishmen play the pirate, Francis Drake? 78 BOOK II While thou wast dreaming of thy hero's crown — God save the mark ! — thy brother, nay, thy spy, Must play the common pilferer, must convert The cargo to his uses, rob us all Of what we risked our necks to win : he wears The ransom of an emperor round his throat That might enrich us all. Who saw him wear That chain of rubies ere last night ? " And Drake, "Answer him, brother"; and his brother smiled And answered, " Nay, I never wore this chain Before last night; but Doughty knows, indeed, For he was with me — and none else was there But Doughty — *tls my word against his word. That close on midnight we were summoned down To an English seaman who lay dying below Unknown to any of us, a prisoner In chains, that had been captured none knew where. For all his mind was far from Darien, And wandering evermore through Devon lanes At home; whom we released; and from his waist He took this hidden chain and gave It me, Begging me that if ever I returned 79 DRAKE To Bideford in Devon I would go With whatsoever wealth It might produce To his old mother, who, with wrinkled hands In some small white-washed cottage o'er the sea, Where wall-flowers bloom In April, even now Is turning pages of the well-worn Book And praying for her son's return, nor knows That he lies cold upon the heaving main. But this he asked; and this In all good faith I swore to do; and even now he died, And hurrying hither from his side I clasped His chain of rubies round my neck awhile, In full sight of the sun. I have no more To say." Then up spoke Hatton's trumpeter: " But I have more to say. Last night I saw Doughty, but not In full sight of the sun. Nor once, nor twice, but three times at the least. Carrying chains of gold, clusters of gems. And whatsoever wealth he could convey Into his cabin and smuggle In smallest space." " Nay," Doughty stammered, mixing sneer and He, Yet bolstering up his courage with the thought That being what courtiers called a gentleman 80 BOOK II He ranked above the rude sea-dlscIpline, " Nay, they were free gifts from the Spanish crew Because I treated them with courtesy." Then bluff Will Harvest, " That perchance were true, For he hath been close closeted for hours With their chief officers, drinking their health In our own war-bought wine, while down below Their captured English seaman groaned his last." Then Drake, whose utter silence, with a sense Of infinite power and justice, ruled their hearts, Suddenly thundered — and the traitor blanched And quailed before him. "This my flesh and blood I placed beneath thee as my dearer self! But thou, in trampling on him, shalt not say I charge thy brother. Nay, thou chargest me ! Against me only hast thou stirred this strife; And now, by God, shalt thou learn, once for all. That I, thy captain for this voyage, hold The supreme power of judgment in my hands. Get thee aboard my flagship ! When I come I shall have more to say to thee ; but thou, 8i DRAKE My brother, take this galleon In thy charge; For, as I see, she holdeth all the stores Which Doughty failed to find. She shall return With us to that New World from which she came. But now let these our prisoners all embark In yonder pinnace; let them all go free. I care not to be cumbered on my way Through dead Magellan's unattempted dream With chains and prisoners. In that Golden World Which means much more to me than I can speak, Much more, much more than I can speak or breathe. Being, behind whatever name it bears — Earthly Paradise, Island of the Saints, Cathay, or ZIpangu, or Hy BrasU — The eternal symbol of my soul's desire, A sacred country shining on the sea, That Vision without which, the wise king said, A people perishes; In that place of hope. That TIrn'an Og, that land of lasting youth, Where whosoever sails with me shall drink Fountains of immortality and dwell Beyond the fear of death for evermore, 82 BOOK II There shall we see the dust of battle dance Everywhere in the sunbeam of God's peace! Oh, In the new Atlantis of my soul There are no captives: there the wind blows free; And, as in sleep, I have heard the marching song Of mighty peoples rising in the West, Wonderful cities that shall set their foot Upon the throat of all old tyrannies; And on the West wind I have heard a cry, The shoreless cry of the prophetic sea Heralding through that golden wilderness The Soul whose path our task is to make straight, Freedom, the last great Saviour of mankind. I know not what I know : these are wild words. Which as the sun draws out earth's morning mists Over dim fields where careless cattle sleep. Some visionary Light, unknown, afar. Draws from my darkling soul. Why should we drag Thither this Old-World weight of utter gloom. Or with the ballast of these heavy hearts Make sail in sorrow for Pacific Seas? Let us leave chains and prisoners to Spain; 83 DRAKE But set these free to make their own way home ! '^ So said he, groping blindly towards the truth, And heavy with the treason of his friend. His face was like a king's face as he spake, For sorrows that strike deep reveal the deep ; And through the gateways of a ragged wound Sometimes a god will drive his chariot wheels From some deep haven within the hearts of men. Nevertheless, the Immediate seamen there Knowing how great a ransom they might ask For some among their prisoners, men of wealth And high degree, scarce liked to free them thus; And only saw In Drake's conflicting moods The moment's whim. " For little will he care," They muttered, "when we reach those fabled shores. Whether his cannon break their golden peace.'* Yet to his face they murmured not at all; Because his eyes compelled them like a law. So there they freed the prisoners and set sail Across the earth-shaking shoulders of the broad Atlantic, and the great grey slumbrous waves Triumphantly swelled up to meet the keels. 84 BOOK iir Now In the cabin of the Golden Hynde At dusk, Drake sent for Doughty. From one wall The picture of his love looked down on him; And on the table lay the magic chart, Drawn on a buffalo horn, all small peaked isles, Dwarf promontories, tiny twisted creeks, And fairy harbours under elfin hills. With marvellous Inscriptions lined In red, — As Here is Gold, or Many Rubies Here, Or Ware Witch-crafte, or Here is Cannibals, For In his great simplicity the man Delighted In It, with the adventurous heart Of boyhood poring o'er some well-thumbed tale On blue Twelfth Night beside the crimson fire ; And o'er him, like the vision of a boy In his first knighthood when, upon some hill Washed by the silver fringes of the sea, 85 DRAKE Amidst the purple heather he lies and reads Of Arthur and Avilion, like a star His love's pure face looked down. There Doughty came, Half fearful, half defiant, with a crowd Of jostling half-excuses on his lips, And one dark swarm of adders in his heart. For now what light of chivalry remained In Doughty's mind was thickening with a plot, Subtler and deadlier than the serpent's first Attempt on our first sire in Eden bower. Drake, with a countenance open as the sun. Received him, saying: *' Forgive me, friend, for I Was hasty with thee. I wellnigh forgot Those large and liberal nights we two have passed In this old cabin, telling all our dreams And hopes, in friendship, o'er and o'er again. But Vicary, thy lawyer friend, hath been Pleading with me; and now I understand All; so forgive, — for thou art hasty too. And hast said things in passion which, 'fore God, I would not take from other men alive. But now^ — I understand. Thou shalt no more 86 BOOK III Be vexed with a divided mastership. Indeed, I trust thee, Doughty; against all Appearances I trust thee. WUt thou not Be friends with me? For now In ample proof Thou shalt take charge of this my Golden Hynde In all things, save of seamanship, which rests With the ship's master under my command. But I myself will sail upon the prize.'' And with the word he gathered up the chart, Took down his lady's picture with a smile, Gripped Doughty's hand and left him, staring, sheer Bewildered with that magnanimity Of faith, throughout all shadows. In some light Unseen behind the shadows. Thus did Drake Give up his own fair cabin which he loved; Being, it, seemed, a little travelling home, Fragrant with memories, — gave It, as he thought. In recompense to one whom he had wronged. For even as his mind must ever yearn To shores beyond the sunset, even so He yearned through all dark shadows to his friend. And with his greater nature striving still 87 DRAKE To comprehend the lesser, as the sky Embraces our low earth, he would adduce Justifications, thus: "These men of law Are trained to plead for any and every cause, To feign an indignation, or to prove The worse is better and that black is white! Small wonder that their passion goes astray: Ah God, there is one prayer for all of us^ — Enter not into judgment with Thy servant!^* Yet as his boat pulled towVd the Spanish prize Leaving the Golden Hynde, far off he heard A voice that chilled him, as the voice of Fate Crying like some old Bellman through the world. Song Yes; oh, yes; if any seek ' Laughter flown or lost delight, Glancing eye or rosy cheek, Love shall claims his own to-night/ Say, hath any lost a friend? Yes; oh, yes! Let his distress In my ditty find its end. 88 BOOK III Yes; oh, yes; here all is found! Kingly palaces await Each its rightful owner, crowned King and consecrate. Under the wet and wintry ground! Yes; oh, yes! There sure redress Lies where all is lost and found. And Doughty, though Drake's deed of kindness flashed A moment's kind contrition through his heart, Immediately, with all his lawyer's wit, True to the cause that hired him, laughed it by. And straight began to weave the treacherous web Of soft intrigue wherein he meant to snare The passions of his comrades. Night and day, As that small fleet drove onward o'er the deep. Cleaving the sunset with their bright black prows Or hunted by the red pursuing Dawn, He stirred between the high-born gentlemen (Whose white and jewelled hands, gallant in fight, And hearts remembering Creqy and Polctlers, 89 DRAKE Were of scant use in common seamanship), Between these and the men whose rough tarred arms Were good at equal need in storm or war, Yet took a poorer portion of the prize, He stirred a subtle jealousy and fanned A fire that swiftly grew almost to hate. For when the seamen must take precedence Of loiterers on the deck — through half a word, Small, with intense device, like some fierce lens, He magnified their rude and blustering mode ; Or urged some scented fop, whose idle brain Busied itself with momentary whims, To bid the master alter here a sail. Or there a rope; and, if the man refused, Doughty, at night, across the wine-cups, raved Against the rising insolence of the mob; And hinted Drake himself was half to blame. In words that seemed to say, " I am his friend. Or I should bid you think him all to blame." So fierce indeed the strife became that once. While Chester, Doughty's catspaw, played with fire, 90 BOOK III The grim ship-master growled between his teeth, " Remember, sir, remember, ere too late, Magellan's mutinous vice-admiral's end." And Doughty heard, and with a boisterous laugh Slapped the old sea-dog on the back and said, " The gallows are for dogs, not gentlemen ! " Meanwhile his brother, sly John Doughty, sought To fan the seamen's fear of the unknown world With whispers and conjectures; and, at night. He brought old books of Greek and Hebrew down Into the foc'sle, claiming by their aid A knowledge of Black Art, and power to tell The future, which he dreadfully displayed There In the flickering light of the oily lamp, Bending above their huge and swarthy palms And tracing them to many a grisly doom. So many a night and day westward they plunged. The half-moon ripened to its mellow round, Dwindled again and ripened yet again. And there was nought around them but the grey Ruin and roar of huge Atlantic seas. And only like a memory of the world 91 DRAKE They left behind them rose the same great sun, And daily rolled his chariot through their sky, Whereof the skilled musicians made a song. Song The same sun is o'er us, The same Love shall find us. The same and none other. Wherever we be; With the same goal before us. The same home behind us, England, our mother, Ringed round with the sea. When the breakers charged thundering In thousands all round us With a lightning of lances Uphurtled on high. When the stout ships were sundering A rapture hath crowned us, Like the wild light that dances On the crests that flash by. 92 BOOK III When the waters lay breathless Gazing at Hesper Guarding the golden Fruit of the tree, Heard we the deathless Wonderful whisper Wafting the olden Dream of the sea. No land in the ring of it Now, all around us Only the splendid Resurging unknown! How should we sing of it? — This that hath found us By the great sun attended In splendour, alone. Ah! the broad miles of it, White with the onset Of waves without number Warring for glee. Ah ! the soft smiles of it 93 DRAKE Down to the sunset, Holy for slumber, The peace of the sea. The wave's heart, exalted, Leaps forward to meet us, The sun on the sea-wave Lies white as the moon : The soft sapphire-vaulted Deep heaven smiles to greet us. Free sons of the free-wave All singing one tune. The same sun is o^er tis^ The same Love shall find us, The same and none other, Wherever we he; With the same goal before us, The same home behind us, England, our mother, Queen of the sea. At last a faint-flushed April Dawn arose With milk-white arms upblnding golden clouds 94 BOOK III Of fragrant hair behind her lovely head; And, lo! before the bright black plunging prows The whole sea suddenly shattered Into shoals Of rolling porpoises. Everywhere they tore The glittering water. Like a moving crowd Of black bright rocks washed smooth by foaming tides, They thrilled the unconscious fancy of the crews With subtle, wild, and living hints of land. And soon Columbus' happy signals came. The signs that saved him when his mutineers Despaired at last and clamoured to return, — And there, with awe triumphant In their eyes, They saw, lazily tossing on the tide, A drift of seaweed and a berried branch, Which silenced them as If they had seen a Hand Writing with fiery letters on the deep. Then a black cormorant, vulture of the sea. With neck outstretched and one long ominous honk, Went hurtling past them to its unknown bourne. A mighty white-winged albatross came next; Then flight on flight of clamorous clanging gulls; 95 DRAKE And last, a wild and sudden shout of " Land I " Echoed from crew to crew across the waves. Then, dumb upon the rigging as they hung Staring at it, a menace chilled their blood. For like // Gran Nemico of Dante, dark. Ay, coloured like a thunder-cloud, from North To South, in front, there slowly rose to sight A country like a dragon fast asleep Along the West, with wrinkled, purple wings Ending in ragged forests o'er its spine ; And with great craggy claws out-thrust, that turned (As the dim distances dissolved their veils) To promontories bounding a huge bay. There o'er the hushed and ever shallower tide The staring ships drew nigh and thought, " Is this The Dragon of our Golden Apple Tree, The guardian of the fruit of our desire, Which grows in gardens of the Hesperides, Where those three sisters weave a white-armed dance Around it everlastingly, and sing Strange songs in a strange tongue that still convey Warning to heedful souls? " Nearer they drew, 96 BOOK III And now, indeed, from out a soft blue-grey Mingling of colours on that coast's deep flank There crept a garden of enchantment, height O'er height, a garden sloping from the hills, Wooded as with Aladdin's trees that bore All-coloured clustering gems instead of fruit; Now vaster as it grew upon their eyes, And like some Roman amphitheatre Cirque above mighty cirque all round the bay. With jewels and flowers ablaze on women's breasts Innumerably confounded and confused; While lovely faces flushed with lust of blood. Rank above rank upon their tawny thrones In soft barbaric splendour lapped, and lulled By the low thunderings of a thousand lions, Luxuriously smiled as they bent down Over the scarlet-splashed and steaming sands To watch the white-limbed gladiators die. Such fears and dreams for Francis Drake, at least, Rose and dissolved in his nigh fevered brain As they drew near that equatorial shore; For rumours had been borne to him; and now 97 DRAKE He knew not whether to impute the wrong To his untrustful mind or to believe Doughty a traitorous liar; for the sense Of his own friendship towards him made it hard To understand that treachery; yet there seemed Proof and to spare. A thousand shadows rose To mock him with their veiled indicative hands. And each alone he laid and exorcised With ease; but ah, not all, not all at once. And for each doubt he banished, one returned From darker depths to mock him o'er again. So, in that bay, the little fleet sank sail And anchored; and the wild reality Behind those dreams towered round them on the hills, Or so it seemed. And Drake bade lower a boat. And went ashore with sixteen men to seek Water; and, as they neared the embowered beach. Over the green translucent tide there came, A hundred yards from land, a drowsy sound Immeasurably repeated and prolonged, As of innumerable elfin drums 98 BOOK III Dreamily mustering In the tropic bloom. This from without they heard, across the waves ; But when they glided Into a flowery creek Under the sharp black shadows of the trees — Jaca and Mango and Palm and red festoons Of garlanded Liana wreaths — It ebbed Into the murmur of the mighty fronds, Prodigious leaves whose velnlngs bore the fresh Impression of the finger-prints of God. There humming-birds, like flakes of purple fire Upon some passing seraph's plumage, beat And quivered In blinding blots of golden light Between the embattled cactus and cardoon; While one huge whisper of primaeval awe Seemed to await the cool green eventide When God should walk His Garden as of old. Now as the boats were plying to and fro Between the ships and that enchanted shore, Drake bade his comrades tarry a little and went Apart, alone, into the trackless woods. Tormented with his thoughts, he saw all round Once more the battling Image of his mind, Where there was nought of man, only the vast 99 DRAKE Unending silent struggle of Titan trees, Large Internecine twistlngs of the world, The hushed death-grapple and the still Intense Locked anguish of Laocoons that gripped Death by the throat for thrice three hundred years. Once, like a subtle mockery overhead. Some black-armed chattering ape swung swiftly by, But he strode onward, thinking — " Was It false, False all that kind outreaching of the hands? False? Was there nothing certain, nothing sure In those divlnest aisles and towers of Time Wherein we took sweet counsel ? Is there nought Sure but the solid dust beneath our feet? Must all those lovelier fabrics of the soul, Being so divinely bright and delicate. Waver and shine no longer than some poor Prismatic aery bubble? Ay, they burst, And all their glory shrinks Into one tear No bitterer than some Idle love-lorn maid Sheds for her dead canary. God, It hurts. This, this hurts most, to think how we must miss What might have been, for nothing but a breath, A babbling of the tongue, an argument, 100 BOOK III Or such a poor contention as involves The thrones and dominations of this earth, — How many of us, like seed on barren ground, Must miss the flower and harvest of their prayers. The living light of friendship and the grasp Which for its very meaning once implied Eternities of utterance and the life Immortal of two souls beyond the grave? " Now, wandering upward ever, he reached and clomb The slope side of a fern-fringed precipice, And, at the summit, found an open glade. Whence, looking o'er the forest, he beheld The sea ; and, in the land-locked bay below, Far, far below, his elfin-tiny ships, All six at anchor on the crawling tide ! Then onward, upward, through the woods once more He plunged with bursting heart and burning brow ; And, once again, like madness, the black shapes Of doubt swung through his brain and chattered and laughed, lOI DRAKE Till he upstretched his arms in agony And cursed the name of Doughty, cursed the day They met, cursed his false face and courtier smiles; " For oh," he cried, ** how easy a thing it were For truth to wear the garb of truth ! This proves His treachery! " And there, at once, his thoughts Tore him another way, as thus, " And yet If he were false, is he not subtle enough To hide it? Why, this proves his innocence — This very courtly carelessness which I, Black-hearted evil-thinker as I am, In my own clumsier spirit so misjudge I These children of the court are butterflies Fluttering hither and thither, and I — poor fool — Would fix them to a stem and call them flowers, Nay, bid them grasp the ground-like towering oaks And shadow all the zenith; " and yet again The madness of distrustful friendship gleamed From his fierce eyes, " Oh, villain, damned villain, God's murrain on his heart ! I know full well He hides what he can hide I He wears no fault Upon the gloss and frippery of his breast I 1 03 BOOK III It Is not that ! It is the hidden things, Unselzable, the things I do not know: Ay, It Is these, these, these and these alone That I mistrust." And, as he walked, the skies Grew full of threats, and now enormous clouds Rose mammoth-like above the ensanguined deep, Trampling the daylight out; and, with Its death Dyed purple, rushed along as If they meant To obliterate the world. He took no heed. Though that strange blackness brimmed the branching aisles With horror, he strode on till In the gloom, Just as his winding way came out once more Over a precipice that o'erlooked the bay, There, as he went, not gazing down, but up. He saw what seemed a ponderous granite cliff, A huge ribbed shell upon a lonely shore Left by forgotten mountains when they sank Back to earth's breast like billows on a sea. A tall and whispering crowd of tree-ferns waved Mysterious fringes round it. In their midst He flung himself at its broad base, with one 103 DRAKE Sharp shivering cry of pain, *' Show me Thy ways, O God, teach me Thy paths ! I am in the dark ! Lighten my darkness ! " Almost as he spoke There swept across the forest, far and wide, Gathering power and volume as it came, A sound as of a rushing mighty wind; And, overhead, like great black gouts of blood Wrung from the awful forehead of the Night The first drops fell and ceased. Then, suddenly, Out of the darkness, earth with all her seas, Her little ships at anchor in the bay (Five ebony ships upon a sheet of silver, Drake saw not that, indeed, Drake saw not that !) , Her woods, her boughs, her leaves, her tiniest twigs. Leapt like a hunted stag through one immense Lightning of revelation into the murk Of Erebus: then heaven o'er rending heaven Shattered and crashed down ruin over the world. But, in that deeper darkness, Francis Drake Stood upright now, and with blind outstretched arms Groped at that strange forgotten cliff and shell 104 BOOK III Of mystery; for in that flash of light iEons had passed; and now the Thing in front Made his blood freeze with memories that lay Behind his Memory. In the gloom he groped, And with dark hands that knew not what they knew, As one that shelters in the night, unknowing, Beneath a stranded shipwreck, with a cry He touched the enormous rain-washed belted ribs And bones like battlements of some Mastodon Embedded there until the trump of doom. After long years, long centuries, perchance, Triumphantly some other pioneer Would stand where Drake now stood and read the tale Of ages where he only felt the cold Touch in the dark of some huge mystery; Yet Drake might still be nearer to the light Who now was whispering from his great deep heart, " Show me Thy ways, O God, teach me Thy paths!" And there by some strange instinct, oh, he felt 105 DRAKE God's answer there, as if he grasped a hand Across a gulf of twice ten thousand years; And he regained his lost magnificence Of faith in that great Harmony which resolves Our discords, faith through all the ruthless laws Of nature in their lovely pitilessness. Faith in that Love which outwardly must wear, Through all the sorrows of eternal change, The splendour of the indifference of God. All round him through the heavy purple gloom Sloped the soft rush of silver-arrowed rain, Loosening the skies' hard anguish as with tears. Once more he felt his unity with all The vast composure of the universe, And drank deep at the fountains of that peace Which comprehends the tumult of our days. But with that peace the power to act returned; And, with his back against the Mastodon, He stared through the great darkness tow'rds the sea. The rain ceased for a moment : only the slow Drip of the dim droop-feathered palms all round io6 BOOK III Deepened the hush. Then, out of the gloom once more The whole earth leapt to sight with all her woods, Her boughs, her leaves, her tiniest twigs distinct For one wild moment; but Drake only saw The white flash of her seas, and there, oh there That land-locked bay with those five elfin ships, Five elfin ebony ships upon a sheet Of wrinkled silver ! Then, as the thunder followed, One thought burst through his brain — Where was the sixth? Over the grim precipitous edge he hung. An eagle waiting for the lightning now To swoop upon his prey. One iron hand Gripped a rough tree-root like a bunch of snakes; And, as the rain rushed round him, far away He saw to northward yet another flash, A scribble of God's finger in the sky Over a waste of white stampeding waves. His eye flashed like a falchion as he saw it, And from his lips there burst the sea-king's laugh ; For there, with a fierce joy he knew, he knew 107 DRAKE Doughty, at last — an open mutineer! An open foe to fight ! Ay, there she went,— His Golden Hynde, his little Golden Hynde A wild deserter scudding to the North. And, almost ere the lightning, Drake had gone Crashing down the face of the precipice, By a narrow water-gully, and through the huge Forest he tore the straight and perilous way Down to the shore; while, three miles to the North, Upon the wet poop of the Golden Hynde Doughty stood smiling. Scarce would he have smiled Knowing that Drake had seen him from that tower Amidst the thunders ; but, Indeed, he thought He had escaped unseen admldst the storm. Many a day he had worked upon the crew, Fanning their fears and doubts until he won The more part to his side. And when they reached That coast, he showed them how Drake meant to sail Southward, into the unknown Void ; but he io8 BOOK III Would have them suddenly slip by stealth away Northward to Darlen, showing them what a life Of golden glory waited for them there, If, laying aside this empty quest, they joined The merry feasters round those Island fires Which over many a dark-blue creek illumed Buccaneer camps in scarlet logwood groves, Fringing the Gulf of Mexico, till dawn Summoned the Black Flags out to sweep the sea. But when Drake reached the flower-embowered boat And found the men awaiting his return There, In a sheltering grove of bread-fruit trees Beneath great eaves of leafage that obscured Their sight, but kept the storm out, as they tossed Pieces of eight or rattled the bone dice. His voice went through them like a thunderbolt, For none of them had seen the Golden Hynde Steal from the bay ; and now the billows burst Like cannon down the coast ; and they had thought Their boat could not be launched until the storm Abated. Under Drake's compelling eyes, 109 DRAKE Nevertheless, they poled her down the creek Without one word, waiting their chance. Then all Together with their brandished oars they thrust, And on the fierce white out-draught of a wave They shot up, up and over the toppling crest Of the next, and plunged crashing Into the vale Behind it: then they settled at their thwarts, And the fierce water boiled before their blades As, with Drake's Iron hand upon the helm, They soared and crashed across the rolling seas. Not for the Spanish prize did Drake now steer, But for that little ship the Mary gold, Swiftest of sail, next to the Golden Hynde, And, in the hands of Francis Drake, indeed Swiftest of all; and ere the seamen knew What power, as of a wind, bore them along, Anchor was up, their hands were on the sheets, The sails were broken out, the Mary gold Was flying like a storm-cloud to the North, And on her poop an iron statue still As death stood Francis Drake. no BOOK III One hour they rushed Northward, with green seas washing o'er the deck And buffeted with splendour ; then they saw The Golden Hynde like some wing-broken gull With torn mismanaged plumes beating the air In peril of utter shipwreck; saw her fly Half-mast, a feeble signal of distress Despite all Doughty's curses ; for her crew With wild divisions torn amongst themselves Most gladly now surrendered In their hearts, As close alongside grandly onward swept The Mary gold, with canvas trim and taut Magnificently drawing the full wind, Her gunners waiting at their loaded guns Bare-armed and silent; and that Iron soul Alone, upon her silent quarter-deck. There they hauled up Into the wind and lay Rocking, while Drake, alone, without a guard, Boarding the runaway, dismissed his boat Back to the Marygold, Then his voice outrang Trumpet-like o'er the trembling mutineers. And clearly, as if they were but busied still About the day's routine. They hid their shame, III DRAKE As men that would propitiate a god, By flying to fulfil his lightest word; And ere they knew what power, as of a wind Impelled them> — that half wreck was trim and taut, Her sails all drawing and her bows afoam ; And, creeping past the Mary gold once more. She led their Southward way! And not till then Did Drake vouchsafe one word to the white face Of Doughty, as he furtively slunk nigh With some new lie upon his fear-parched lips Thirsting for utterance In his crackling laugh Of deprecation; and with one ruffling puff Of pigeon courage in his blinded soul — *' I am no sea-dog — even Francis Drake Would scarce misuse a gentleman. Thank God I am a gentleman ! " And there Drake turned And summoned four swart seamen out by name. His words went like a cold wind through their flesh As with a passionless voice he slowly said, '' Take ye this fellow: bind him to the mast Until what time I shall decide his fate." 112 BOOK III And Doughty gasped as at the world's blank end, — " Nay, Francis," cried he, " wilt thou thus misuse A gentleman?" But as the seamen gripped His arms he struggled vainly and furiously To throw them off ; and in his impotence Let slip the whole of his treacherous cause and hope In empty wrath, — " Fore God," he foamed and snarled, *' Ye shall all smart for this when we return! Unhand me, dogs ! I have Lord Burleigh's power Behind me. There is nothing I have done Without his warrant ! Ye shall smart for this ! Unhand me, I say, unhand me!" And in one flash Drake saw the truth, and Doughty saw his eyes Lighten upon him; and his false heart quailed Once more ; and he suddenly suffered himself Quietly, strangely, to be led away And bound without a murmur to the mast. And strangely Drake remembered, as those words, *' Ye shall all smart for this when we return," 113 DRAKE Yelped at his faith, how while the Dover cliffs Faded from sight he leaned to his new friend Doughty and said: *' I blame them not who stay! I blame them not at all who cling to home, For many of us, indeed, shall not return. Nor ever know that sweetness any more." And when they had reached their anchorage anew, Drake, having now resolved to bring his fleet Beneath a more compact control, at once Took all the men and the chief guns and stores From out the Spanish prize; and sent Tom Moone To set the hulk afire. Also he bade Unbind the traitor and ordered him aboard The pinnace Christopher, John Doughty, too, He ordered thither, into the grim charge Of old Tom Moone, thinking it best to keep The poisonous leaven carefully apart Until they had won well Southward, to a place Where, finally committed to their quest, They might arraign the traitor without fear Or favour, and acquit him or condemn. But those two brothers, doubting as the false 114 William Cecil, Lord Burleigh From the Original Fainting by Mark Gerard BOOK III Are damned to doubt, saw murder In his eyes, And thought " He means to sink the smack one night," And they refused to go, till Drake abruptly Ordered them straightway to be slung on board With ropes. The daylight waned; but ere the sun Sank, the five ships were plunging to the South ; For Drake would halt no longer, lest the crews Also should halt betwixt two purposes. He took the tide of fortune at the flood; And onward through the now subsiding storm, Ere they could think what power as of a wind Impelled them, he had swept them on their way. Far, far Into the night they saw the blaze That leapt In crimson o'er the abandoned hulk Behind them, like a mighty hecatomb Marking the path of some Titanic will. Many a night and day they Southward drove. Sometimes at midnight round them all the sea Quivered with witches' oils and water-snakes, Green, blue, and red, with lambent tongues of fire. Mile upon mile about the blurred black hulls 115 DRAKE A cauldron of tempestuous colour coiled. On every mast mysterious meteors burned, And from the shores a bellowing rose and fell As of great bestial gods that walked all night Through some wild hell unknown, too vast for men; But when the silver and crimson of the dawn Broke out, they saw the tropic shores anew, The fair white foam, and, round about the rocks, Weird troops of tusked sea-lions; and the world Mixed with their dreams and made them stranger still. And, once, so fierce a tempest scattered the fleet That even the hardiest souls began to think There was a Jonah with them ; for the seas Rose round them like green mountains, peaked and ridged With heights of Alpine snow amongst the clouds ; And many a league to Southward, when the ships Gathered again amidst the sinking waves Four only met. The ship of Thomas Drake Was missing; and some thought it had gone down With all hands in the storm. But Francis Drake ii6 BOOK III Held on his way, learning from hour to hour To merge himself In Immortality; Learning the secret of those pitiless laws Which dwarf all mortal grief, all human pain, To something less than nothing by the side Of that eternal travail dimly guessed, Since first he felt In the miraculous dark The great bones of the Mastodon, that hulk Of Immemorial death. He learned to judge The passing pageant of this outward world As by the touch-stone of that memory; Even as In that country which some said Lay now not far, the great Tezcucan king. Resting his jewelled hand upon a skull, And on a smouldering glory of jewels throned There In his temple of the Unknown God Over the host of Aztec princes, clad In golden hauberks gleaming under soft Surcoats of green or scarlet feather-work, Could In the presence of a mightier power Than life or death give up his guilty sons, His only sons, to the sacrificial sword. And hour by hour the soul of Francis Drake, 117 DRAKE Unconscious as an oak-tree of its growth, Increased in strength and stature as he drew Earth, heaven, and hell within him, more and more. For as the dream we call our world, with all Its hues Is but a picture In the brain, So did his soul enfold the universe With gradual sense of superhuman power, While every visible shape within the vast Horizon seemed the symbol of some thought Waiting for utterance. He had found indeed God's own Nirvana, not of empty dream But of intensest life ! Nor did he think Aught of all this; but, as the rustic deems The colours that he carries In his brain Are somehow all outside him while he peers Unaltered through two windows in his face, Drake only knew that as the four ships plunged Southward, the world mysteriously grew More like a prophet's vision, hour by hour. Fraught with dark omens and significances, A world of hieroglyphs and sacred signs Wherein he seemed to read the truth that lay ii8 BOOK III Hid from the Roman augurs when of old They told the future from the flight of birds. How vivid with disaster seemed the flight Of those blood-red flamingoes o'er the dim Blue steaming forest, like two terrible thoughts Flashing, unapprehended, through his brain! And now, as they drove Southward, day and night, Through storm and calm, the shores that fleeted by Grew wilder, grander, with his growing soul. And pregnant with the approaching mystery. And now along the Patagonlan coast They cruised, and in the solemn midnight saw Wildernesses of shaggy, barren marl, Petrified seas of lava, league on league, Craters and bouldered slopes and granite cliffs With ragged rents, grim gorges, deep ravines, And precipice on precipice up-piled Innumerable to those dim distances Where, over valleys hanging In the clouds. Gigantic mountains and volcanic peaks Catching the wefts of cirrhus fleece appeared To smoke against the sky, though all was now 119 DRAKE Dead as that frozen chaos of the moon, Or some huge passion of a slaughtered soul Prostrate under the marching of the stars. At last, and in a silver dawn, they came Suddenly on a broad-winged estuary, And, in the midst of It, an Island lay. There they found shelter, on Its leeward side, And Drake convened upon the Golden Hynde His dread court-martial. Two long hours he heard Defence and accusation, then broke up The conclave, and, with burning heart and brain, Feverishly seeking everywhere some sign To guide him, went ashore upon that Isle, And, lo ! turning a rugged point of rock, He rubbed his eyes to find out If he dreamed, For there — a Crusoe's wonder, a miracle, A sign — before him stood on that lone strand Stark, with a stern arm pointing out his way And jangling still one withered skeleton. The grim black gallows where Magellan hanged His mutineers. Its base was white with bones 120 BOOK III Picked by the gulls, and crumbling o'er the sand A dread sea-salt, dry from the tides of time. There, on that lonely shore. Death's finger-post Stood like some old forgotten truth made strange By the long lapse of many memories, All starting up In resurrection now As at the trump of doom, heroic ghosts Out of the cells and graves of his deep brain Reproaching him. '' Were this man not thy friend, Ere now he should have died the traitor^ s death. What wilt thou say to the others if they, too, Prove false? Or wilt thou slay the lesser and save The greater sinner? Nay, if thy right hand Of end thee, cut it of! '^ And, in one flash, Drake saw his path and chose it. With a voice Low as the passionless anguished voice of Fate That comprehends all pain, but girds It round With Iron, lest some random cry break out For man's misguidance, he drew all his men Around him, saying, " Ye all know how I loved Doughty, who hath betrayed me twice, and thrice, For I still trusted him : he was no felon 121 DRAKE That I should turn my heart away from him I He is the type and image of man's laws ; While I — am lawless as the soul that still Must sail and seek a world beyond the worlds, A law behind earth's laws. I dare not judge ! But ye — who know the mighty goal we seek, Who have seen him sap our courage, hour by hour. Till God Himself almost appeared a dream Behind his technicalities and doubts Of aught he could not touch or handle; ye Who have seen him stir up jealousy and strife Between our seamen and our gentlemen, Even as the world stirs up continual strife, Bidding the man forget he Is a man With God's own patent of nobility; Ye who have seen him strike this last sharp blow- — Sharper than any enemy hath struck, — Ay, Jonathan, mine own familiar friend, He whom I trusted, he alone could strike So sharply, for Indeed I loved this man. Judge ye — for see, I cannot. Do not doubt I loved this man I But now, if ye will let him have his life, 122 BOOK III Oh, speak ! But, if ye think It must be death, Hold up your hands in silence I " His voice dropped, And eagerly he whispered forth one word Beyond the scope of Fate — " Yet, oh, my friends, I would not have him die ! '' There was no sound Save the long thunder of eternal seas, — Drake bowed his head and prayed. Then, suddenly, One man upheld his hand ; and, all at once, A brawny forest of brown arms arose In silence, and the great sea whispered Death. There, with one big swift impulse, Francis Drake Held out his right sun-blackened hand and gripped The hand that Doughty proffered him ; and, lo ! Doughty laughed out and said, " Since I must die, Let us have one more hour of comradeship. One hour as old companions. Let us make A feast here, on this island, ere I go Where there is no more feasting." So they made A great and solemn banquet as the day Decreased; and Doughty bade them all unlock 123 DRAKE Their sea-chests and bring out their rich array. There, by that wondering ocean of the West, In crimson doublets, lined and slashed with gold, In broidered lace and double golden chains Embossed with rubies and great cloudy pearls They feasted, gentleman adventurers, Drinking old malmsey, as the sun sank down. Now Doughty, fronting the rich death of day. And flourishing a silver pouncet-box With many a courtly jest and rare conceit, There as he sat in rich attire, outbraved The rest. Though darker-hued, yet richer far. His murrey-coloured doublet double-piled Of Genoa velvet, puffed with ciprus, shone; For over its grave hues the gems that bossed His golden collar, wondrously relieved, Blazed lustrous to the West like stars. But Drake Wore simple black, with midnight silver slashed, And, at his side, a great two-handed sword. At last they rose, just as the sun's last rays Rested upon the heaving molten gold Immeasurable. The long slow sigh of the waves 124 BOOK III That creamed across the lonely time-worn reef All round the Island seemed the very voice Of the Everlasting : black against the sea The gallows of Magellan stretched Its arm With that gaunt skeleton and Its rusty chain Creaking and swinging in the solemn breath Of eventide like some strange pendulum Measuring out the moments that remained. There did they take the holy sacrament Of Jesus' body and blood. Then Doughty and Drake Kissed each other, as brothers, on the cheek; And Doughty knelt; and Drake, without one word, Leaning upon the two-edged naked sword Stood at his side, with iron lips, and eyes Full of the sunset ; while the doomed man bowed His head upon a rock. The great sun dropped Suddenly, and the land and sea were dark; And as it were a sign, Drake hfted up The gleaming sword. It seemed to sweep the heavens Down In Its arc as he smote, once, and no more. 125 DRAKE Then, for a moment, silence froze their veins. Till one fierce seaman stooped with a hoarse cry; And, like an eagle clutching up its prey. His arm swooped down and bore the head aloft, Gorily streaming, by the long dark hair; And a great shout went up, " So perish all Traitors to God and England ! " Then Drake turned And bade them to their ships ; and, wondering, They left him. As the boats thrust out from shore Brave old Tom Moone looked back with faithful eyes Like a great mastiff to his master's face. He, looming larger from his loftier ground Clad with the slowly gathering night of stars And gazing seaward o'er his quiet dead, Seemed like some Titan bronze in grandeur based Unshakeable until the crash of doom Shattered the black foundations of the world. 126 BOOK IV DAWN, everlasting and almighty Dawn, Hailed by ten thousand names of death and birth. Who, chiefly by thy name of Sorrow, seem'st To half the world a sunset, God's great Dawn, Fair light of all earth's partings till we meet Where Dawn and sunset, mingling East and West, Shall make In some deep Orient of the soul One radiant Rose of Love for evermore; Teach me, oh teach to bear thy broadening light. Thy deepening wonder, lest as old dreams fade With love's unfaith, like wasted hours of youth And dim Illusions vanish in thy beam. Their rapture and their anguish break that heart Which loved them, and must love for ever now. Let thy great sphere of splendour, ring by ring For ever widening, draw new seas, new skies, Within my ken ; yet, as I still must bear This love, help me to grow In spirit with thee, 127 DRAKE Dawn on my song which trembles like a cloud Pierced with thy beauty. Rise, shine, as of old Across the wondering ocean in the sight Of those world-wandering mariners, when earth Rolled flat up to the Gates of Paradise, And each slow mist that curled Its gold away From each new sea they furrowed Into pearl Might bring before their blinded mortal eyes God and the Glory. Lighten as on the soul Of him that all night long In torment dire, Anguish and thirst unceasing for thy ray Upon that lonely Patagonlan shore Had lain as on the bitterest coasts of Hell. For all night long, mocked by the dreadful peace Of world-wide seas that darkly heaved and sank With cold recurrence, like the slow sad breath Of a fallen Titan dying all alone In lands beyond all human loneliness, While far and wide glimmers that broken targe Hurled from tremendous battle with the gods. And, as he breathes In pain, the chain-mail rings Round his broad breast a muffled rattling make For many a league, so seemed the sound of waves 128 BOOK IV Upon those beaches — there, be-mocked all night, Beneath Magellan's gallows, Drake had watched Beside his dead; and over him the stars Paled as the silver chariot of the moon Drove, and her white steeds ramped In a fury of foam On splendid peaks of cloud. The Golden Hynde Slept with those other shadows on the bay. Between him and his home the Atlantic heaved; And, on the darker side, across the strait Of starry sheen that softly rippled and flowed Betwixt the mainland and his Isle, It seemed Death's Gates Indeed burst open. The night yawned Like a foul wound. Black shapes of the outer dark Poured out of forests older than the world; And, just as reptiles that take form and hue, Speckle and blotch. In strange assimilation From thorn and scrub and stone and the waste earth Through which they crawl, so that almost they seem 129 DRAKE The incarnate spirits of their wilderness, Were these most horrible kindred of the night. iEonian glooms unfathomable, grim aisles. Grotesque, distorted boughs and dancing shades Outbelched their dusky brood on the dim shore; Monsters with sooty limbs, red-raddled eyes, And faces painted yellow, women and men; Fierce naked giants howling to the moon, And loathlier Gorgons with long, snaky tresses Pouring vile purple over pendulous breasts Like wine-bags. On the mainland beach they lit A brushwood fire that reddened creek and cove And lapped their swarthy limbs with hideous tongues Of flame; so near that by their light Drake saw The blood upon the dead man's long black hair Clotting corruption. The fierce funeral pyre Of all things fair seemed rolling on that shore; And in that dull, red battle of smoke and flame, While the sea crunched the pebbles, and dark drums Rumbled out of the gloom as if this earth Had some Titanic tigress for a soul Purring In forests of Eternity 130 BOOK IV Over her own grim dreams, his lonely spirit Passed through the circles of a world-wide waste Darker than ever Dante roamed. No gulf Was this of fierce harmonious reward, Where Evil moans in anguish after death, Where all men reap as they have sown, where gluttons Gorge upon toads and usurers gulp hot streams Of molten gold. This was that Malebolge Which hath no harmony to mortal ears, But seems the reeling and tremendous dream Of some omnipotent madman. There he saw The naked giants dragging to the flames Young captives hideous with a new despair : He saw great craggy blood-stained stones upheaved To slaughter, saw through mists of blood and fire The cannibal feast prepared, saw filthy hands Rend limb from limb, and almost dreamed he saw Foul mouths a-drip with quivering human flesh And horrible laughter In the crimson storm That clomb and leapt and stabbed at the high heaven Till the whole night seemed saturate with red. 131 DRAKE And all night long upon the Golden Hynde, A cloud upon the waters, brave Tom Moone Watched o'er the bulwarks for some dusky plunge To warn him if that savage crew should mark His captain and swim over to his Isle. Whistle in hand he watched, his boat well ready, His men low-crouched around him, swarthy faces Grim-chlnned upon the taffrall, muttering oaths That trampled down the fear i' their bristly throats. While at their sides a dreadful hint of steel Sent stray gleams to the stars. But little heed Had Drake of all that menaced him, though oft Some wandering giant, belching from the feast, All blood-besmeared, would come so near he heard His heavy breathing o'er the narrow strait. Yet little care had Drake, for though he sat Bowed In the body above his quiet dead. His burning spirit wandered through the wastes. Wandered through hells behind the apparent hell, Horrors Immeasurable, clutching at dreams Found fair of old, but now most foul. The world Leered at him through Its old remembered mask 133 BOOK IV Of beauty: the green grass that clothed the fields Of England (shallow, shallow fairy dream!) What was it but the hair of dead men's graves, Rooted in death, enriched with all decay? And like a leprosy the hawthorn bloom Crawled o'er the whitening bosom of the spring; And bird and beast and Insect, ay and man, How fat they fed on one another's blood ! And Love, what faith in Love, when spirit and flesh Are found of such a filthy composition? And Knowledge, God, his mind went reeling back To that dark voyage on the deadly coast Of Panama, where one by one his men Sickened and died of some unknown disease, Till Joseph, his own brother. In his arms Died; and Drake trampled down all tender thought, All human grief, and sought to find the cause. For his crew's sake, the ravenous unknown cause Of that fell scourge. There, In his own dark cabin. Lit by the wild light of the swinging lanthorn, 133 DRAKE He laid the naked body on that board Where they had supped together. He took the knife From the agiie-stricken surgeon's palsied hands, And while the ship rocked In the eternal seas And dark waves lapped against the rolling hulk Making the silence terrible with voices, He opened his own brother's cold white corse, That pale deserted mansion of a soul, Bidding the surgeon mark, with his own eyes. While yet he had strength to use them, the foul spots, The swollen liver, the strange sodden heart. The yellow Intestines. Yea, his dry lips hissed There in the stark face of Eternity " Seest thou? Seest thou? Knowest thou what It means?" Then, like a dream up-surged the bel fried night Of Saint Bartholomew, the scented palaces Whence harlots leered out on the twisted streets Of Paris, choked with slaughter ! Europe flamed With human torches, living altar candles, Lighted before the Cross where men had hanged 134 BOOK IV The Christ of little children. Cirque by cirque The world-wide hell reeled round him, East and West, To where the tortured Indians worked the will Of lordly Spain in golden-famed Peru. "God, is thy world a madman's dream?" he groaned : And suddenly, the clamour on the shore Sank, and that savage horde melted away Into the midnight forest as it came. Leaving no sign, save where the brushwood fire Still smouldered like a ruby in the gloom; And into the inmost caverns of his mind That other clamour sank, and there was peace. " A madman's dream," he whispered, " Ay, to me A madman's dream," but better, better far Than that which bears upon its awful gates. Gates of a hell defined, unalterable, Abandon hope all ye who enter here! Here, here at least the dawn hath power to bring New light, new hope, new battles. Men may fight And sweep away that evil, if no more. At least from the small circle of their swords; 135 DRAKE Then die, content If they have struck one stroke For freedom, knowledge, brotherhood; one stroke To hasten that great kingdom God proclaims Each morning through the trumpets of the Dawn. And far away, in Italy, that night Young Galileo, gazing upward, heard The self-same whisper from the abyss of stars Which lured the soul of Shakespeare as he lay Dreaming In May-sweet England, even now. And with Its Infinite music called once more The soul of Drake out to the unknown West. Now like a wild rose in the fields of heaven Slipt forth the slender fingers of the Dawn And drew the great grey Eastern curtains back From the ivory saffroned couch. Rosily slid One shining foot and one warm rounded knee From silken coverlets of the tossed-back clouds. Then, like the meeting after desolate years, Face to remembered face^ Drake saw the Dawn Step forth In naked splendour o'er the sea ; Dawn, bearing still her rich divine Increase 136 BOOK IV Of beauty, love, and wisdom round the world; The same, yet not the same. So strangely gleamed Her pearl and rose across the sapphire waves That scarce he knew the dead man at his feet. His world was made anew. Strangely his voice Rang through that solemn Eden of the morn Calling his men, and stranger than a dream Their boats black-blurred against the crimson East, Or flashing misty sheen where'er the light Smote on their smooth wet sides, like seraph ships Moved in a dewy glory towards the land; Their oars of glittering diamond broke the sea As by enchantment into burning jewels And scattered rainbows from their flaming blades. The clear green water lapping round their prows, The words of sharp command as now the keels Crunched on his lonely shore, and the following wave Leapt slapping o*er the sterns, in that new light Were more than any miracle. At last Drake, as they grouped a little way below The crumbling sandy cliff whereon he stood, 137 DRAKE Seeming to overshadow them as he loomed A cloud of black against the crimson sky, Spoke, as a man may hardly speak but once: "My seamen, oh my friends, companions, kings; For I am least among you, being your captain ; And ye are men, and all men born are kings. By right divine, and I the least of these, Because I must usurp the throne of God And sit in judgment, even till I have set My seal upon the red wax of this blood, This blood of my dead friend, ere It grow cold. Not all the waters of that mighty sea Could wash my hands of sin if I should now Falter upon my path. But look to it, you. Whose word was doom last night to this dead man ; Look to it, I say, look to it I Brave men might shrink From this great voyage; but the heart of him Who dares turn backward now must be so hardy That God might make a thousand millstones of it To hang about the necks of those that hurt Some little child, and cast them in the sea. Yet if ye will be found so more than bold, 138 BOOK IV Speak now, and I will hear you: God will judge. But ye shall take four ships of these my five, Tear out the lions from their painted shields, And speed you homeward. Leave me but one ship, My Golden Hynde, and five good friends, nay one. To watch when I must sleep, and I will prove This judgment just against the winds of the world. Now ye that will return, speak : let me know you^ Or be for ever silent ; for I swear Over this butchered body, if any swerve Hereafter from the straight and perilous way. He shall not die alone. What? Will none speak? My comrades and my friends ! Yet ye must learn, Mark me, my friends, I'd have you all to know That ye are kings. I'll have no jealousies Aboard my fleet. I'll have the gentleman To pull and haul wi' the seaman. I'll not have That canker of the Spaniards in my fleet. Yc that were captains, I cashier you all. I'll have no captains; I'll have nought but seamen. Obedient to my will, because I serve England. What, will ye murmur? Now, beware, Lest I should bid you homeward all alone, 139 DRAKE You whose white hands are found too delicate For aught but dallying with your jewelled swords ! And thou, too, Master Fletcher, my ship's chaplain, Mark me, Fll have no priestcraft. I have heard Overmuch talk of judgment from thy lips — God's judgment here, God's judgment there, upon us! Whene'er the winds are contrary, thou takest Their powers upon thee for thy moment's end. Thou art God's minister, not God's oracle: Chain up thy tongue a little, or, by His wounds, If thou canst read this wide world like a book, Thou hast so little to fear, I'll set thee adrift On God's great sea to find thine own way home. Why, 'tis these very tyrannies o' the soul We strike at when we strike at Spain for England; And shall we here, in this great wilderness, Ungrappled and unchallenged, out of sight. Alone, without one struggle, sink that flag Which, when the cannon thundered, could but stream Triumphant over all the storms of death. 140 BOOK IV Nay, Master Wynter and my gallant captains, I see ye are tamed. Take up your ranks again In humbleness, remembering ye are kings. Kings for the sake and by the will of England, Therefore her servants till your lives' last end. Comrades, mistake not this, our little fleet Is freighted with the golden heart of England, And, if we fail, that golden heart will break. The world's wide eyes are on us, and our souls Are woven together into one great flag Of England. Shall we strike it? Shall it be rent Asunder with small discord, party strife. Ephemeral conflict of contemptible tongues. Or shall it be blazoned, blazoned evermore On the most heaven-wide page of history? This is that hour, — I know it in my soul, — When we must choose for England. Ye are kings, And sons of Vikings, exiled from your throne. Have ye forgotten ? Nay, your blood remembers ! There is your kingdom. Vikings, that great ocean Whose tang is in your nostrils. Ye must choose Whether to reassume it now for England, 141 DRAKE To claim its thunders for her panoply, To lay its lightnings in her sovereign hands, Win her the great commandment of the sea. And let its glory roll with her dominion Round the wide world for ever, sweeping back All evil deeds and dreams, or whether to yield For evermore that kinghood. Ye must learn Here in this golden dawn our great emprise Is greater than we knew. Eye hath not seen. Ear hath not heard, what came across the dark Last night, as there anointed with that blood I knelt and saw the wonder that should be. I saw new heavens of freedom, a new earth Released from all old tyrannies. I saw The brotherhood of man, for which we rode. Most ignorant of the splendour of our spears, Against the crimson dynasties of Spain. Mother of freedom, home and hope and love. Our little island, far, how far away, I saw thee shatter the whole world of hate, I saw the sunrise on thy helmet flame With new-born hope for all the world in thee I Come now, to sea, to sea ! " BOOK IV And ere they knew What power impelled them, with one mighty cry They lifted up their hearts to the new dawn And hastened down the shores and launched the boats, And In the fierce white out-draught of the waves Thrust with their brandished oars and the boats leapt Out, and they settled at the groaning thwarts, And the white water boiled before their blades. As, with Drake's Iron hand upon the helm. His own boat led the way; and ere they knew What power as of a wind bore them along. Anchor was up, their hands were on the sheets, The sails were broken out, and that small squadron Was flying like a sea-bird to the South. Now to the strait Magellanus they came. And entered In with ringing shouts of joy. Nor did they think there was a fairer strait In all the world than this which lay so calm Between great silent mountains crowned with snow, 143 DRAKE Unutterably lonely. Marvellous The pomp of dawn and sunset on those heights, And like a strange new sacrilege the advance Of prows that ploughed that time-forgotten tide. But soon rude flaws, cross-currents, tortuous channels Bewildered them, and many a league they drove As down some vaster Acheron, while the coasts With walling voices cursed them all night long, And once again the hideous fires leapt red By many a grim wrenched crag and gaunt ravine. So for a hundred leagues of whirling spume They groped, till suddenly, far away, they saw Full of the sunset, like a cup of gold, The purple Westward portals of the strait. Onward o'er roughening waves they plunged and reached Capo Desiderata, where they saw What seemed stupendous In that lonely place, — Gaunt, black, and sharp as death against the sky The Cross, the great black Cross on Cape Desire, Which dead Magellan raised upon the height To guide, or so he thought, his wandering ships, 144 BOOK IV Not knowing they had left him to his doom, Not knowing how with tears, with tears of joy, Rapture, and terrible triumph, and deep awe. Another should come voyaging and read Unutterable glories In that sign; While his rough seamen raised their mighty shout, And, once again, before his wondering eyes. League upon league of awful burnished gold. Rolled the unknown immeasurable sea. Now, in those days, as even Magellan held. Men thought that Southward of the strait there swept Firm land up to the white Antartlcke Pole, Which now not far they, deemed. But when Drake passed From out the strait to take his Northward way Up the Pacific coast, a great head-wind Suddenly smote them; and the heaving seas Bulged all around them Into billowy hills. Dark rolling mountains, whose majestic crests Like wild white flames far-blown and savagely flickering 145 DRAKE Swept through the clouds; and on their sullen slopes Like wlnd-whipt withered leaves those little ships, Now hurtled to the Zenith and now plunged Down Into bottomless gulfs, were suddenly scattered And whirled away. Drake, on the Golden Hynde, One moment saw them near him, soaring up Above him on the huge o'erhanging billows As if to crash down on his poop ; the next, A mile of howling sea had swept between Each of those wind-whipt straws, and they were gone Through roaring deserts of embattled death, Where, like a hundred thousand chariots charged With lightnings and with thunders, one great wave Leading the unleashed ocean down the storm Hurled them away to Southward. One last glimpse Drake caught o' the Mary gold, when some mighty vortex Wide as the circle of the wide sea-line 146 BOOK IV Swept them together again. He saw her staggering With mast snapt short and wreckage-tangled deck Where men like Insects clung. He saw the waves Leap over her mangled hulk, like wild white wolves, Volleying out of the clouds down dismal steeps Of green-black water. Like a wounded steed Quivering upon Its haunches, up she heaved Her head to throw them off. Then, In one mass Of fury crashed the great deep over her. Trampling her down, down Into the nethermost pit. As with a madman's wrath. She rose no more, And In the stream of the ocean's hurricane laughter The Golden Hynde went hurtling to the South, With sails rent Into ribbons and her mast Snapt like a twig. Yea, where Magellan thought Firm land had been, the little Golden Hynde Whirled like an autumn leaf through league on league Oi bursting seas, chaos on crashing chaos, 147 DRAKE A rolling wilderness of charging Alps That shook the world with their tremendous war ; Grim beetling cliffs that grappled with clamorous gulfs, Valleys that yawned to swallow the wide heaven; Immense whIte-flowerIng fluctuant precipices, And hills that swooped down at the throat of hell ; From Pole to Pole, one blanching bursting storm Of world-wide oceans, where the huge Pacific Roared greetings to the Atlantic, and both swept In broad white cataracts, league on struggling league. Pursuing and pursued, immeasurable, .With Titan hands grasping the rent black sky East, West, North, South. Then, then was battle indeed Of midget men upon that wisp of grass The Golden Hynde, who, as her masts crashed, hung Clearing the tiny wreckage from small decks With ant-like weapons. Not their captain's voice Availed them now amidst the deafening thunder Of seas that felt the heavy hand of God, 148 BOOK IV Only they saw across the blinding spume In steely flashes, grand and grim, a face, Like the last glimmer of faith among mankind. Calm In this warring universe, where Drake Stood, lashed to his post, beside the helm. Black seas Buffeted him. Half-stunned he dashed away The sharp brine from his eagle eyes and turned To watch some mountain-range come rushing down As if to overwhelm them utterly. Once, indeed. Welkin and sea were one black wave, white-f anged. White-crested, and up-heaved so mightily That, though It coursed more swiftly than a herd Of Titan steeds upon some terrible plain Nigh the huge City of Ombos, yet It seemed Most strangely slow, with all those crumbling crests, Each like a cataract on a mountain-side, And moved with the steady majesty of doom High over him. One moment's flash of fear, And yet not fear, but rather life's regret, Felt Drake, then laughed a low deep laugh of joy 149 DRAKE Such as men taste In battle ; yea, 'twas good To grapple thus with death; one low deep laugh, One mutter as of a Hon about to spring, Then burst that thunder o'er him. Height o'er height The heavens rolled down, and waves were all the world. Meanwhile, In England, dreaming of her sailor, Far off, his heart's bride waited, of a proud And stubborn house the bright and gracious flower. Whom oft her father urged with scanty grace That Drake was dead and she had best forget The fellow, he grunted. For her father's heart Was fettered with small memories, mocked by all The greater world's traditions and the trace Of earth's low pedigree among the suns. Ringed with the terrible twilight of the Gods, Ringed with the blood-red dusk of dying nations. His faith was In his grandam's mighty skirt, And, In that awful consciousness of power. Had It not been that even In this he feared To sully her silken flounce or farthingale 150 BOOK IV Wi' the white dust on his hands, he would have chalked To his own shame, thinking It shame, the word Nearest to God In Its divine embrace Of agonies and glories, the dread word Demos across that door In Nazareth Whence came the prentice Carpenter whose voice Hath shaken kingdoms down, whose menial gibbet Rises triumphant o'er th^ wreck of Empires And stretches out its arms amongst the stars. But she, his daughter, only let her heart Loveably forge a charter for her love. Cheat her false creed with faithful faery dreams That wrapt her love In mystery; thought, perchance, He came of some unhappy noble race Ruined in battle for some lost high cause. And, In the general mixture of men's blood, Her dream was truer than his whose bloodless pride Urged her to wed the chinless, moon-struck fool, Sprung from ^wt hundred years of idiocy, Who now besought her hand ; would force her bear 151 DRAKE Some heir to a calf's tongue and a coronet, Whose cherished taints of blood will please his friends With '' Yea, Sir William's first-born hath the freak, The family freak, being embryonic. Yea, And with a fine half-wlttedness, forsooth. Praise God, our children's children yet shall see The lord o' the manor muttering to himself At midnight by the gryphon-guarded gates, Or gnawing his nails in desolate corridors, Or pacing moonlit halls, dagger in hand. Waiting to stab his father's pitiless ghost." So she — the girl — sweet Bess of Sydenham, Most innocently proud, was prouder yet Than thus to let her heart stoop to the lure Of lordllng lovers, though her unstained soul Slumbered amidst those dreams as in old tales The princess in the enchanted forest sleeps Till the prince wakes her with a kiss and draws The far-flung hues o' the gleaming magic web Into one heart of flame. And now, for Drake, She slept like Brynhild in a ring of fire 152 BOOK IV Which he must pass to win her. For the wrath Of Spain now flamed, awaiting his return, All round the seas of home; and even the Queen Elizabeth blenched, as that tremendous Power Menaced the heart of England, blenched and vowed Drake's head to Spain's ambassadors, though still By subtlety she hoped to find some way Later to save or warn him ere he came. Perchance, too, — nay, most like, — he will be slain. Or even now lies dead, out in the West, She thought, and then the promise works no harm. But, day by day, there came as on the wings Of startled winds from o'er the Spanish Main, Strange echoes as of sacked and clamouring ports And battered gates of fabulous golden cities, A murmur out of the sunsets of Peru, A sea-bird's wail from Lima. While no less The wrathful menace gathered up its might All round our little isle ; till now the King Philip of Spain half secretly decreed The building of huge docks from which to launch A Fleet Invincible that should sweep the seas 153 DRAKE Of all the world, throttle with one broad grasp All Protestant rebellion, having stabllshed His red feet in the Netherlands, thence to hurl His whole World-Empire at this little Isle, England, our mother, home and hope and love, And bend her neck beneath his yoke. For now No half surrender sought he. At his back. Robed with the scarlet of a thousand martyrs, Admonishing him, stood Rome, and, in her hand. Grasping the Cross of Christ by Its great hilt, She pointed it, like a dagger, tow'rds the throat Of England. One long year, two years had passed Since Drake set sail from grey old Plymouth Sound; And In those woods of faery wonder still Slumbered his love In steadfast faith. But now With louder lungs her father urged — " He is dead: Forget him. There Is one that loves you, seeks Your hand In marriage, and he Is a goodly match E'en for my daughter. You shall wed him, Bess!" 154 BOOK IV But when the new-found lover came to woo, Glancing In summer silks and radiant hose, Whipt doublet and enormous pointed shoon, She played him like a fish and sent him home Spluttering with dismay, a stickleback Discoloured, a male minnow of dimpled streams With all his rainbows paling In the prime, To hide amongst his lilies, while once more She took her casement seat that overlooked The sea and read In Master Spenser's book, Which Francis gave *' To my dear lady and queen Bess," that most rare processional of love — " Sweet Thames f run softly till I end my song! " Yet did her father urge her day by day. And day by day her mother dinned her ears With petty saws, as — ''When / was a girl," And " I remember what my father said," And " Love, oh feather-fancies plucked from geese You call your poets ! " Yet she hardly meant To slight true love, save in her daughter's heart; For the old folk ever find it hard to see The passion of their children. When it wakes, 155 DRAKE The child becomes a stranger. That small bird Which was its heart hath left the fostering nest And flown they know not whither. So with Bess ; But since her soul still slumbered, and the moons Rolled on and blurred her soul's particular love With the vague unknown impulse of her youth, Her brave resistance often melted now In tears, and her will weakened day by day; Till on a dreadful summer morn there came, Borne by a wintry flaw, home to the Thames, A bruised and battered ship, all that was left, So said her crew, of Drake's ill-fated fleet. John Wynter, her commander, told the tale Of how the Golden Hynde and Mary gold Had by the wind Euroclydon been driven Sheer o'er the howling edges of the world; Of how himself by God's good providence Was hurled into the strait Magellanus; Of how on the horrible frontiers of the Void He had watched in vain, lit red with beacon-fires The desperate coasts o' the black abyss, whence none Ever returned, though many a week he watched 156 BOOK IV Beneath the Cross; and only saw God's wrath Burn through the heavens and devastate the mountains, And hurl unheard of oceans roaring down After the lost ships In one cataract Of thunder and splendour and fury and rolling doom. Then, with a bitter triumph In his face, As If this were the natural end of all Such vile plebeians, as if he had foreseen it As If himself had breathed a tactful hint Into the aristocratic ears of God, Her father broke the last frail barriers down, Broke the poor listless will o' the lonely girl. Who careless now of aught but misery Promised to wed their lordling. Mighty speed They made to press that loveless marriage on; And ere the May had mellowed into June Her marriage eve had come. Her cold hands held Drake's gift. She scarce could see her name, writ broad By that strong hand as It was. To my Queen Bess, 157 DRAKE She looked out through her casement o'er the sea, Listening its old enchanted moan, which seemed Striving to speak, she knew not what. Its breath Fluttered the roses round the grey old walls. And shook the starry jasmine. A great moon Hung like a red lamp in the sycamore. A corn-crake in the hay-fields far away Chirped like a cricket, and the night-jar churred His passionate love-song. Soft-winged moths besieged Her lantern. Under many a star-stabbed elm The nightingale began his golden song. Whose warm thick notes are each a drop of blood From that small throbbing breast against the thorn Pressed close to turn the white rose into red ; Even as her lawn-clad may-white bosom pressed Quivering against the bars, while her dark hair Streamed round her shoulders and her small bare feet Gleamed in the dusK. Then spake she to her maid — ** I cannot sleep, I cannot sleep to-night. Bring thy lute hither and sing. Say, dost thou think 158 BOOK IV The dead can watch us from their distant world? Can our dead friends be near us when we weep? I wish *twere so ! For then my love would come, No matter then how far, my love would come, And press a light kiss on these aching eyes And say, ' Grieve not, dear heart, for I know all, And I forgive thee.* Ah, then, I should sleep, Sleep, sleep and dream once more. Last night, last night, I know not if it were that song of thine Which tells of some poor lover, crazed with pain. Who wanders to the grave-side of his love And knocks at that cold door until his love Opens it, and they two for some brief while Forget their doom in one another's arms Once more ; for, oh, last night, I had a dream ; My love came to me through the Gates of Death : I know not how he came. I only know His arms were round me, and, from far away. From far beyond the stars it seemed, his voice Breathed, in unutterable grief, farewells Of shuddering sweetness, clasped in one small word — Sweetheart, a joy untold, an untold pain, 159 DRAKE Far, far away, although his breath beat warm Against my cheek and dried mine own poor tears. Ah, sing that song once more ; for I have heard There are some songs, and this was one I am sure, Like the grey popples of those dreaming fields Where poor dead lovers drift, and in their pain We lose our own. Give me that poppied sleep, And If — In dreams — I touch my true love's lips. Trust me I will not ask ever to wake Again." Whereat the maiden touched her lute And sang, low-toned, with pity in her eyes. Then Bess bowed down her lovely head; her breast Heaved with short sobs and, sickening at the heart. She grasped the casement, moaning, '' Love, Love, Love, Come quickly: come, before It Is too late; Come quickly — oh, come quickly! " Then her maid Slipped a soft arm around her and gently drew The supple quivering body, shaken with sobs, And all that firm young sweetness, to her breast, And led her to her couch, and all night long 1 60 BOOK IV She watched beside her, till the marriage morn Bkished in the heartless East. Then swiftly flew The pitiless moments, till — as in a dream — And borne along by dreams, or like a lily Cut from Its anchorage in the stream to glide Down the smooth bosom of an unknown world Through fields of unknown blossom, so moved Bess Amongst her maids, as the procession passed Forth to the little church upon the cliffs, And, as in those days was the bridal mode, Her lustrous hair in billowing beauty streamed Dishevelled o'er her shoulders, while the sun Caressed her bent and glossy head, and shone Over the deep blue, white-flaked, wrinkled sea, On full-blown rosy-petalled sails that flashed Like flying blossoms fallen from her crown. i6i BOOK V I With the fruit of Aladdin s garden clustering thick in her hold. With rubies awash in her scuppers and her bilge ablaze with gold, A world in arms behind her to sever her heart from home. The Golden Hynde drove onward over the glittering foam, II If we go as we came, by the Southward, we meet wi the fleets of Spain! 'Tis a thousand to one against us: we'll turn to the West again! We have captured a China pilot, his charts and his golden keys: We'll sail to the golden Gateway, over the golden seas, OVER the immeasurable molten gold \ Wrapped in a golden haze, onward they drew; And now they saw the tiny purple quay Grow larger and darker and brighten Into brown Across the swelling sparkle of the waves. 162 8 .':i — his face grew grave, he drew A silken ladder from out his doublet — " quick, Before yon good gamekeeper rounds the house We must be down." And ere the words were out Bess reached the path, and Drake was at her side. Then Into the star-stabbed shadow of the woods 218 BOOK VIII They sped, his arm around her. Suddenly She drew back with a cry, as four grim faces, With hand to forelock, glimmered In their way. Laughing she saw their storm-beat friendly smile Welcome their doughty captain In this new Adventure. Far away, once more they heard The mastiff bay; then nearer, as If his nose Were down upon the trail ; and then a cry As of a hot pursuit. They reached the brook, Hurrying to the deep. Drake lifted Bess In his arms, and down the watery bed they splashed To baffle the clamouring hunt. Then out of the woods They came, on the seaward side, and Bess, with a shiver, Saw starlight flashing from bare cutlasses. As the mastiff bayed still nearer. Swiftlier now They passed along the bare blunt cliffs, and saw The furrow ploughed by that strange cannon-shot Which saved this hour for Bess; down to the beach And starry foam that churned the silver gravel 219 DRAKE Around an old black lurching boat, a strange Grim Charon's wherry for two lovers' flight, Guarded by old Tom Moone. Drake took her hand, And with one arm around her waist, her breath Warm on his cheek for a moment, in she stepped Daintily o'er the gunwale and took her seat. His throned princess, beside him at the helm. Backed by the glittering waves, his throned princess. With jewelled throat and glorious hair that seemed Flashing back scents and colours to a sea Which lived but to reflect her loveliness. Then, all together, with their brandished oars The seamen thrust as a heavy mounded wave Lifted the boat; and up the flowering breast Of the next they soared, then settled at the thwarts. And the fierce water boiled before their blades. While with Drake's iron hand upon the helm They plunged and ploughed across the starlit seas 220 BOOK VIII To where a small black lugger at anchor swung, Dipping her rakish bows I' the liquid moon. Small was she, but not fangless; for Bess saw, With half a tremor, the dumb protective grin Of four grim guns above the tossing boat. But ere his seamen or his sweetheart knew What power, as of a wind, bore them along, Anchor was up, the sails were broken out. And as they scudded down the dim grey coast Of a new enchanted world (for now had Love Made all things new and strange) the skilled musicians Upraised, at Drake's command, a song to cheer Their midnight path across that faery sea. Song I Sweet, what is love? 'Tis not the crown of kings. Nay, nor the fire of white seraphic wings ! Is It a child's heart leaping while he sings? Even so say I ; Even so say I. 221 DRAKE n Love like a child around our world doth run, Happy, happy, happy for all that God hath done, Glad of all the little leaves dancing in the sun, Even so say I ; Even so say I. Ill Sweet, what is love? 'Tis not the burning bliss Angels know in heaven! God blows the world a kiss Wakes on earth a wild-rose 1 Ah, who knows not this? Even so say I ; Even so say I. IV Love, love is kind I Can it be far away. Lost in a light that blinds our little day? Seems it a great thing? Sweetheart, answer nay; Even so say I ; Even so say L 22Z BOOK VIII V Sweet, what Is love? The dust beneath our feet, Whence breaks the rose and all the flowers that greet April and May with lips and heart so sweet; Even so say I ; Even so say I. VI Love IS the dust whence Eden grew so fair, Dust of the dust that set my lover there. Ay, and wrought the gloriole of Eve's gold hair, Even so say I ; Even so say I. VII Also the springing spray, the little topmost flower Swung by the bird that sings a little hour. Earth's climbing spray into the heaven's blue bower, Even so say I ; Even so say I. 223 DRAKE And stranger, ever stranger, grew the night Around those twain, for whom the fleecy moon Was but a mightier Cleopatra's pearl Dissolving in the rich dark wine of night, While 'mid the tenderer talk of eyes and hands And whispered nothings, his imperial dreams Rolled round their gloomy barge, robing its hulk With splendours Rome and Egypt never knew. Old ocean was his Nile, his mighty queen An English maiden purer than the dawn, His cause the cause of Freedom, his reward The glory of England. Strangely simple, then. Simple as life and death, anguish and love. To Bess appeared those mighty dawning dreams. Whereby he shaped the pageant of the world To a new purpose, strangely simple all Those great new waking tides i' the world's great soul That set towards the fall of Spain and Rome Behind a thunderous roar of ocean triumph O'er burning ships and shattered fleets, while England Grasped with sure hands the sceptre of the sea, 224 BOOK VIII That untamed realm of Liberty which none Had looked upon as aught but wilderness Ere this, or even dreamed of as the seat Of power and judgment and high sovereignty Whereby all nations at the last should make One brotherhood, and war should be no more. And ever, as the vision broadened out, The sense of some tremendous change at hand. The approach of vast Armadas and the dawn Of battle, reddening the diviner dawn With clouds, confused It, till once more the song Rang out triumphant o'er the glittering sea. Song I Ye that follow the vision Of the world's weal afar, Have ye met with derision And the red laugh of war; Yet the thunder shall not hurt you. Nor the hattle-storms dismay; Tho* the sun in heaven desert you, ** Love will find out the wayP 225 DRAKE II When the pulse of hope falters, When the fire flickers low On your faith* s crumbling altars, And the faithless gods go; When the fond hope ye cherished Cometh, kissing, to betray; When the last star hath perished, ** Love will find out the way J* in When the last dream hereaveth you, And the heart turns to stone; When the last comrade leaveth you In the desert alone. With the whole world before you Clad in battle-array. And the starless night o^er you, " Love will find out the way!* IV Your dreamers may dream it The shadow of a dream, 226 BOOK VIII Your sages may deem it A bubble on the stream, — Yet our kingdom draweth nigher With each dawn and every day; Through the earthquake and the fire '' Love will find out the wayT V Love will find it, tho* the nations Rise up blind, as of old, And the new generations Wage their warfares of gold; Tho' they trample child and mother As red clay into the clay, Where brother wars with brother, " Love will find out the way J' Dawn, ever bearing some divine increase Of beauty, love, and wisdom round the world, Dawn, like a wild-rose in the fields of heaven Washed grey with dew, awoke, and found the barque At anchor in a little land-locked bay. 227 DRAKE A crisp breeze blew, and all the living sea Beneath the flower-soft colours of the sky, Now like a myriad-petalled rose and now Innumerably scalloped Into shells Of rosy fire, with dwindling wrinkles edged Fainter and fainter to the unruffled glow And soft white pallor of the distant deep, Shone with a mystic beauty for those twain Who watched the gathering glory; and, in an hour, Drake and sweet Bess, attended by a guard Of four swart seamen, with bare cutlasses. And by the faithful eyes of old Tom Moone, Went up the rough rock-steps and twisted street Oh, the small white sparkling seaport, towards the church Where, hand In hand, before God's altar they. With steadfast eyes, did plight eternal troth. And so were wedded. Never a chime of bells Had they; but as they passed from out the porch Between the sleeping graves, a skylark soared Above the world in an ecstasy of song. And, quivering heavenwards, lost himself In light. 228 BOOK IX NOW like a white-cllffed fortress Eng- land shone Amid the mirk of chaos ; for the huge Empire of Spain was but the dusky van Of that dread night beyond all nights and days, Night of the last corruption of a world Fast-bound In misery and Iron, with chains Of priest and king and feudal servitude. Night of the fettered flesh and ravaged soul, Night of anarchic chaos, darkening the deep, Swallowing up cities, kingdoms, empires, gods. With vaster gloom approaching, till the sun Of love was blackened, the moon of faith was blood. All round our England, our small struggling star, Fortress of freedom, rock o' the world's desire, Bearing at last the hope of all mankind. The thickening darkness surged, and close at hand 229 DRAKE Those first fierce cloudy fringes of the storm, The Armada sails, gathered their might; and Rome Crouched close behind them with her screaming fires And steaming shambles, — Rome, the hell-hag, crouched, Still grasping with red hand the cross of Christ By Its great hilt, pointing it like a dagger. Spear-head of the ultimate darkness, at the throat Of England. Under Philip's feet at last Writhed all the Protestant Netherlands, dini coasts Right over against us, whence his panoplies Might suddenly whelm our isle. But all night long, On many a mountain, many a guardian height. From Beachy Head to Sklddaw, little groups Of seamen, torch and battle-lanthorn nigh, Watched by the brooding unlit beacons, piled Of furze and gorse, funereal peat, rough logs. Reeking with oil, 'mid sharp scents of the sea, 230 BOOK IX Waste trampled grass and heather and close- cropped thyme, High o'er the thundering coast, among whose rocks Far, far below, the pacing coast-guards gazed Steadfastly seaward through the loaded dusk. And through that deepening gloom when, as It seemed, All England held her breath in one grim doubt. Swift rumours flashed from North to South as runs The lightning round a silent thunder-cloud; And there were muttering crowds i' the London streets. And hurrying feet i' the brooding Eastern ports. All night, dark inns, gathering the country-side. Reddened with clashing auguries of war. All night, i' the ships of Plymouth Sound, the soul Of Francis Drake was England, and all night Her singing seamen by the silver quays Polished their guns and waited for the dawn. But hour by hour that night grew deeper. Spain 231 DRAKE Watched, cloud by cloud, her huge Armadas grow; Watched, tower by tower and zone by zone, her fleets Grapple the sky with a hundred hands and drag Whole sea-horizons into her menacing ranks. Joining her powers to the fierce night, while Philip Still strove, with many a crafty word, to lull The fears of Glorlana, till his plots Were ripe, his armaments complete; and still Great Glorlana took her woman's way, Preferring ever tortuous Intrigue To battle, since the stakes had grown so great; Now, more than ever, hoping against hope To find some subtler means of victory; Yet not without swift Impulses to strike. Swiftly recalled. Blind, yet not blind, she smiled On Mary of Scotland waiting for her throne, — A throne with many a strange dark tremour thrilled Now as the rumoured murderous mines below Converged towards It, mine and countermine, 232 BOOK IX Till the live earth was honeycombed with death. Still with her agate smile, still she delayed, Holding her pirate admiral in the leash, Till Walsingham, nay, even the hunchback Burleigh, That crafty king of statesmen, seeing at last The inevitable thunder-crash at hand, Grew heart-sick with delay and ached to shatter The tense tremendous hush that seemed to oppress All hearts, compress all brows, load the broad night With more than mortal menace. Only once The night was traversed with one lightning flash. One rapier stroke from England, at the heart Of Spain, as swiftly parried, yet no less A fiery challenge ; for Philip's hate and scorn Growing with his Armada's growth, he lured With promises of just and friendly trade A fleet of English corn-ships to relieve His famine-stricken coast. There as they lay Within his ports he seized them, one and all, To fill the Armada's maw. 233 DRAKE Whereat the Queen, Passive so long, summoned great Walslngham, And, still averse from open war, despite The battle-hunger burning in his eyes. With one strange swift sharp agate smile she hissed, " Unchain El Draque! '' A lightning flash Indeed Was this; for he whose little Golden Hynde With scarce a score of seamen late had scourged The Spanish Main; he whose piratic neck Scarcely the Queen's most wily statecraft saved From Spain's revenge; he, privateer to the eyes Of Spain, but England to all English hearts, Gathered together, in all good jollity, All help and furtherance himself could wish. Before that moon was out, a pirate fleet Whereof the like old ocean had not seen — Eighteen swift cruisers, two great battleships, With pinnaces and store-ships and a force Of nigh three thousand men, wherewith to singe The beard o' the King of Spain. By night they gathered 234 Philip II, King of Spain From the Painting by Titian BOOK IX In marvellous wind-whipt inns nigh Plymouth Sound, Not secretly as, ere the Golden Hynde Burst thro' the West, that small adventurous crew Gathered beside the Thames, tossing the phrase " Pieces of eight " from mouth to mouth, and singing Great songs of the rich Indies, and those tall Enchanted galleons, red with blood and gold, Superb with rubles, glorious as clouds, Clouds r the sun, with mighty press of sail Dragging the sunset out of the unknown world, And staining all the grey old seas of Time With rich romance; but these, though privateers, Or secret knights on Glorlana's quest, Recked not If round the glowing magic door Of every Inn the townsfolk grouped to hear The storm-scarred seamen toasting Francis Drake, Nor heeded what blithe urchin faces pressed On each red-curtained magic casement, bright With wild reflection of the fires within. The fires, the glasses and the singing lips Lifting defiance to the powers of Spain. 235 DRAKE Song Sing we the Rose, The flower of flowers most glorious! Never a storm that blows Across our English sea But Its heart breaks out wl' the Rose On England's flag victorious, The triumphing flag that flows Thro' the heavens of Liberty. Sing we the Rose, The flower of flowers most beautiful ! Until the world shall end She blossometh year by year, Red with the blood that flows For England's sake, most dutiful. Wherefore now we bend Our hearts and knees to her. Sing we the Rose, The flower, the flower of war It Is, Where deep i' the midnight gloom 236 BOOK IX Its waves are the waves of the sea, And the glare of battle grows, And red over hulk and spar it Is, Till the grim black broadsides bloom, With our Rose of Victory. Sing we the Rose, The flower, the flower of love It Is, Which lovers aye shall sing And nightingales proclaim; For oh, the heaven that glows. That glows and burns above It Is Freedom's perpetual Spring, Our England's faithful fame. Sing we the Rose, That Eastward still shall spread for us Upon the dawn's bright breast. Red leaves wl' the foam impearled; And onward ever flows Till eventide make red for us A Rose that sinks T the West And surges round the world; Sing we the Rose! 237 DRAKE One night as, with his great vice-admiral, Frobisher, his rear-admiral, Francis Knollys, And Thomas Fenner, his flag-captain, Drake Took counsel at his tavern, there came a knock, The door opened, and cold as from the sea The gloom rushed in, and there against the night. Clad as it seemed with wind and cloud and rain, Glittered a courtier, whom by face and form All knew for the age's brilliant paladin, Sidney, the king of courtesy, a star Of chivalry. The seamen stared at him. Each with a hand upon the red-lined chart Outspread before them. Then all stared at Drake, Who crouched like a great bloodhound o'er the table, And rose with a strange light burning in his eyes ; For he remembered how, three years agone. That other courtier came, with words and smiles Copied from Sidney's self; and in his ears Rang once again the sound of the headsman's ax Upon the desolate Patagonian shore Beneath Magellan's gallows. With a voice 238 BOOK IX So harsh himself scarce knew It, he desired This fair new courtier's errand. With grim eyes He scanned the silken knight from head to foot, While Sidney, smiling graciously, besought Some place in their adventure. Drake's clenched fist Crashed down on the old oak table like a rock, Splintering the wood and dashing his rough wrist With blood, as he thundered, " By the living God, No! We've no room for courtiers, now! We leave All that to Spain." Whereat, seeing Sidney stood Amazed, Drake, drawing nearer, said, "You ask More than you dream : I know you for a knight Most perfect and most gentle — yea, a man Ready to die on any battle-field To save a wounded friend " (even so said Drake, Not knowing hov/ indeed this knight would die, — • Yea, yield the cup of water from his lips To save a wounded soldier, saying, " His need Is greater! ") Drake outstretched his bleeding hand 239 DRAKE And pointed through the door to where the gloom Glimmered with bursting spray, and the thick night Was all one wandering thunder of hidden seas Rolling out of Eternity: "You'll find No purple fields of Arcady out there, No shepherds piping In those boisterous valleys, No sheep among those roaring mountain-tops. No lists of feudal chivalry. I've heard That voice cry death to courtiers. 'TIs God's voice. Take you the word of one who has occupied His business In great waters. There's no room. Meaning, or reason, office, or place, or name For courtiers on the sea. Does the sea flatter? You cannot bribe it, torture It, or tame it ! Its laws are those of the Juggernaut universe. Remorseless — listen to that ! " — a mighty wave Broke thundering down the coast; " your hands are white. Your rapier jewelled, can you grapple that? What part have you in all Its flaming ways? What share In its fierce gloom? Has your heart broken 240 BOOK IX As those waves break out there? Can you lie down And sleep, as a lion-cub by the old lion, When it shakes its mane out over you to hide you, And leap out with the dawn as I have done? These are big words; but, see, my hand is red: You cannot torture me, I have borne all that; And so I have some kinship with the sea. Some sort of wild alliance with its storms. Its exultations, ay, and its great wrath At last, and power upon them. 'Tis the worse For Spain. Be counselled well : come not between My sea and its rich vengeance.'* Silently, Bowing his head, Sidney withdrew. But Drake, So fiercely the old grief rankled in his heart. Summoned his swiftest horseman, bidding him ride, Ride like the wind through the night, straight to the Queen, Praying she would most instantly recall Her truant courtier. Nay, to make all sure, Drake sent a gang of seamen out to crouch Ambushed in woody hollows nigh the road, 241 DRAKE Under the sailing moon, there to waylay The Queen's reply, that she might never know It reached him, if it proved against his will. And swiftly came that truant's stern recall; But Drake, in hourly dread of some new change In Gloriana's mood, slept not by night Or day, till out of roaring Plymouth Sound The pirate fleet swept to the wind-swept main. And took the wind and shook out all its sails. Then with the unfettered sea he mixed his soul In great rejoicing union, while the ships Crashing and soaring o'er the heart-free waves Drave ever straight for Spain. Water and food They lacked; but the fierce fever of his mind To sail from Plymouth ere the Queen's will changed Had left no time for these. Right on he drave. Determining, though the Queen's old officers Beneath him stood appalled, to take in stores Of all he needed, — water, powder, food, — By plunder of Spain herself. In Vigo Bay, 242 BOOK IX Close to Bayona town, under the cliffs Of Spain's world-wide and thunder-fraugut prestige He anchored, with the old sea-touch that wakes Our England still. There, in the tingling ears Of the world he cried, En garde! to the King of Spain. There, ordering out his pinnaces In force, While a great storm, as if he held indeed Heaven's batteries in reserve, growled o'er the sea. He landed. Ere one cumbrous limb of all The monstrous armaments of Spain could move His ships were stored; and ere the sword of Spain Stirred in its crusted sheath, Bayona town Beheld an empty sea; for like a dream The pirate fleet had vanished, none knew whithen But, in its visible stead, invisible fear Filled the vast rondure of the sea and sky As with the omnipresent soul of Drake. For when Spain saw the small black anchored fleet Ride in her bays, the sight set bounds to fear. She knew at least the ships were oak, the guns Of common range : nor did she dream e'en Drake 243 DRAKE Could sail two seas at once. Now all her coasts Heard him all night in every bursting wave, His topsails gleamed in every moonlit cloud; His battle-lanthorns glittered in the stars That hung the low horizon. He became A universal menace; yet there followed No sight or sound of him, unless the sea Were that grim soul incarnate. Did it not roar His great commands ? The very spray that lashed The cheeks of Spanish seamen lashed their hearts To helpless hatred of him. The wind sang El Draqiie across the rattling blocks and sheets When storms perplexed them; and when ships went down, As under the fury of his onsetting battle. The drowning sailors cursed him while they sank. Suddenly a rumour shook the Spanish Court : He has gone once more to the Indies. Santa Cruz, High Admiral of Spain, the most renowned Captain in Europe, clamoured for a fleet Of forty sail instantly to pursue. 244 BOOK IX For unto him whose little Golden Hynde Was weapon enough, now leading such a squadron, The West Indies, the whole Pacific coast, And the whole Spanish Main, lay at his mercy. And onward over the great grey gleaming sea Swept like a thunder-cloud the pirate fleet With vengeance in Its heart. Five years agone. Young Hawkins, in the Cape Verde Islands, met — At Santiago — with such treachery As Drake burned to requite, and from that hour Was Santiago doomed. His chance had come; Drake swooped upon it, plundered It, and was gone. Leaving the treacherous isle a desolate heap Of smoking ashes in the leaden sea, While onward all those pirate bowsprits plunged Into the golden West, across the broad Atlantic once again; " For I will show,'* Said Drake, ^' that Englishmen henceforth will sail Old ocean where they will." Onward they surged. And the great glittering crested majestic waves Jubilantly rushed up to meet the keels, 245 DRAKE And there was nought around them but the grey Ruin and roar of the huge Atlantic seas, Grey mounded seas, pursuing and pursued. That fly, hounded and hounding on for ever, From empty marge to marge of the grey sky. Over the wandering wilderness of foam. Onward, through storm and death, Drake swept; for now Once more a fell plague gripped the tossing ships, And not by twos and threes as heretofore His crews were minlshed; but In three black days Three hundred seamen In their shotted shrouds Were cast Into the deep. Onward he swept, Implacably, having in mind to strike Spain In the throat at St. Domingo, port Of HIspanlola, a city of far renown, A jewel on the shores of old romance, Palm-shadowed, gated with Immortal gold. Queen city of Spain's dominions over sea. And guarded by great guns. Out of the dawn The pirate ships came leaping, grim and black, And ere the Spaniards were awake, the flag Of England floated from their topmost tower. 246 BOOK IX But since he had not troops enough to hold So great a city, Drake entrenched his men Within the Plaza and held the batteries. Thence he demanded ransom, and sent out A boy with flag of truce. The boy's return Drake waited long. Under a sheltering palm He stood, watching the enemies' camp; and, lol Along the hot white purple-shadowed road Tow'rds him, a crawling shape writhed through the dust Up to his feet, a shape besmeared with blood — A shape that held the stumps up of its wrists And moaned, an eyeless thing: a naked rag Of flesh obscenely mangled, a small face Hideously puckered, shrivelled like a monkey's. With lips drawn backward from its teeth. " Speak, speak. In God's name, speak, what art thou? " whispered Drake, And a sharp cry came, answering his dread — A cry as of a sea-bird in the wind Desolately astray from all earth's shores: " Captain, I am thy boy, only thy boy I 247 DRAKE See, see, my captain : see what they have done ! Captain, I only bore the flag; I only " "O lad, lad, lad! " moaned Drake, and stooping strove To pillow the mangled head upon his arm. "What have they done to thee; what have they done?" And at the touch, the boy screamed once and died. Then like a savage sea with arms uplift To heaven the wrath of Drake blazed thundering, " Eternal God, be this the doom of Spain! Henceforward have no pity. Send the strength Of Thy great seas Into my soul, that I May devastate this empire — this red hell They make of Thy good earth." His men drew round, Staring In horror at the silent shape That daubed his feet. Like a cold wind His words went through their flesh : " This is the lad That bore our flag of truce. This hath Spain done. 248 BOOK IX Look well upon it; draw the smoke of the blood Up Into your nostrils, my companions, And down Into your souls. This makes an end For Spain! Bring forth the Spanish prisoners And let me look on them." Forth they were brought, A swarthy gorgeous band of soldiers, priests, And sailors, hedged between two sturdy files Of British tars with naked cutlasses. Close up to Drake they halted, under the palm. Gay smiling prisoners, for they thought their friends Had ransomed them. Then they looked up and met A glance that swept athwart them like a sword. Making the blood strain back from their blanched faces Into their quivering hearts, with unknown dread. As that accuser pointed to the shape Before his feet. " Dogs, will ye lap his blood Before ye die? Make haste; for it grows cold I Ye will not, will not even dabble your hands 249 DRAKE In that red puddle of flesh, what? Are ye Spaniards? Come, come, I'll look at you; perchance there's one That's but a deml-devil and holds you back." And with the word Drake stepped among their ranks And read each face among the swarthy crew — The gorgeous soldiers, ringleted sailors, priests With rosary and cross, a slender page In scarlet with a cloud of golden hair. And two rope-girdled friars. The slim page Drake drew before the throng. *' You are young," he said, "Go; take this message to the camp of Spain; Tell them I have a hunger In my soul To look upon the murderers of this boy, To see what eyes they have, what manner of mouths ; To touch them and to take their hands in mine, And draw them close to me and smile upon them Until they know my soul as I know theirs, And they grovel in the dust and grope for mercy. 250 BOOK IX Say that, until I get them, every day I'll hang two Spaniards, though I dispeople The Spanish Main. Tell them that, every day, I'll burn a portion of their city down. Then find another city and burn that, And then burn others till I burn away Their empire from the world — ay, till I reach The Imperial throne of Philip with my fires, And send it shrieking down to burn in hell For ever. Go ! " Then Drake turned once again To face the Spanish prisoners. With a voice Cold as the passionless utterance of Fate His grim command went forth. " Now, provost- marshal, Begin with yon two friars, In whose faces Chined like singed swine, and eyed with the spent coals Of filthy living, sweats the glory of Rome And Spain combined, strip of^ their leprous rags And twist their ropes around their throats and hang them High over the Spanish camp for all to see. At dawn I'll choose two more." 251 BOOK X A CROSS the Atlantic / ^ Great rumours rushed as of a mighty ^ % wind, The wind of the spirit of Drake. But who shall tell In this cold age the power that he became Who drew the universe within his soul And moved with cosmic forces? Though the deep Divided It from Drake, the gorgeous court Of Philip shuddered away from the streaming coasts As a wind-cuffed field of golden wheat. The King, Bidding his guests to a feast in his own ship On that wind-darkened sea, was made a mock. As one by one his ladles proffered excuse For fear of That beyond. Round Europe now Ballad and story told how in the cabin Of Francis Drake there hung a magic glass 252 BOOK X Wherein he saw the fleets of all his enemies And all that passed aboard them. Rome herself, Perplexed that this proud heretic should prevail, Fostered a darker dream that Drake had bought, Like old Norse wizards, power to loose or bind The winds at will. And now a wilder tale Flashed o'er the deep — of a distant blood-red dawn O'er San Domingo, where the embattled troops Of Spain and Drake were met — but not in war — Met In the dawn, by his compelling will, To offer up a sacrifice. Yea, there Between the hosts, the hands of Spain herself Slaughtered the Spanish murderers of the boy Who had borne Drake's flag of truce; offered them up As a blood-offering and an expiation, Lest Drake, with that dread alchemy of his soul, Should e'en transmute the dust beneath their feet To one same substance with the place of pain And whelm them suddenly In the eternal fires Rumour on rumour rushed across the sea. Large mockeries, and one most bitter of all, 253 DRAKE Wormwood to Philip, of how Drake had stood r the governor's house at San Domingo, and seen A mighty scutcheon of the King of Spain Whereon was painted the terrestrial globe, And on the globe a mighty steed In act To spring Into the heavens, and from its mouth Streaming like smoke a scroll, and on the scroll Three words of flame and fury — Non sufficit Orhis — of how Drake and his seamen stood Gazing upon It, and could not forbear From summoning the Spaniards to expound Its meaning, whereupon a hurricane roar Of mirth burst from those bearded British lips. And that Immortal laughter shook the world. So, while the imperial warrior eyes of Spain Watched, every hour, her vast Armada grow Readier to launch and shatter with one stroke Our island's frail defence, fear gripped her still, For there came sounds across the heaving sea Of secret springs unsealed, forces unchained, A mustering of deep elemental powers, A sound as of the burgeoning of boughs 254 BOOK X In universal April and dead hearts Uprising from their tombs; a mighty cry Of resurrection, surging through the souls Of all mankind. For now the last wild tale Swept like another dawn across the deep; And, In that dawn, men saw the slaves of Spain, The mutilated negroes of the mines. With gaunt backs wealed and branded, scarred and seared By whip and iron, in Spain's brute lust for gold, Saw them, at Drake's great liberating word Burst from their chains, erect, uplifting hands Of rapture to the glad new light that then. Then first, began to struggle thro' the clouds And crown all manhood with a sacred crown August — a light which, though from age to age Clouds may obscure it, grows and still shall grow, Until that Kingdom come, that grand Com- munion, That Commonweal, that Empire, which still draws Nigher with every hour, that Federation, That turning of the wasteful strength of war To accomplish large and fruitful tasks of peace, 255 DRAKE That gathering up of one another's loads, Whereby the weak are strengthened and the strong Made stronger in the increasing good of all. Then, suddenly, It seemed, as he had gone, A ship came stealing Into Plymouth Sound And Drake was home again, but not to rest; For scarce had he cast anchor ere the road To London rang beneath the flying hoofs That bore his brief despatch to Burleigh, saying — "We have missed the Plate Fleet by but twelve hours' sail, The reason being best known to God. No less We have given a cooling to the King of Spain. There is a great gap opened which, methinks. Is little to his liking. We have sacked The towns of his chief Indies, burnt their ships. Captured great store of gold and precious stones, Three hundred pieces of artillery, The more part brass. Our loss Is heavy Indeed, Under the hand of God, eight hundred men. Three parts of them by sickness. Captain Moone, My trusty old companion, he that struck The first blow in the South Seas at a Spaniard, 256 BOOK X Died of a grievous wound at Cartagena. My fleet and I are ready to strike again At once, where'er the Queen and England please. I pray for her commands, and those with speed, That I may strike again." Outside the scroll These words were writ once more — " My Queen's commands I much desire, your servant, Francis Drake." This terse despatch the hunchback Burleigh read Thrice over, with the broad cliff of his brow Bending among his tfooks. Thrice he assayed To steel himself with caution as of old; And thrice, as a glorious lightning running along And flashing between those simple words, he saw The great new power that lay at England's hand, An ocean sovereignty — a power unknown Before, but dawning now; a power that swept All earth's old plots and counterplots away Like straws ; the germ of an unmeasured force New-born, that laid the source of Spanish might At England's mercy ! Could that force but grow Ere Spain should nip it, ere the mighty host 257 DRAKE That waited In the Netherlands even now, That host of thirty thousand men encamped Round Antwerp, under Parma, should embark Convoyed by that Invincible Armada To leap at England's throat! Thrice he assayed To think of England's helplessness, her ships Little and few. Thrice he assayed to quench With caution the high furnace of his soul Which Drake had kindled. As he read the last Rough simple plea, / wait my Queen^s commands^ His deep eyes flashed with glorious tears. He leapt To his feet and cried aloud, " Before my God, I am proud, I am very proud for England's sake ! This Drake is a terrible man to the King of Spain." And still, still, Glorlana, brooding darkly On Mary of Scotland's doom, who now at last Was plucked from out her bosom like a snake Hissing of war with France, a queenly snake, A Lilith in whose lovely gleaming folds And sexual bonds the judgment of mankind Writhes even yet half-strangled, meting out 258 BOOK X Wild execrations on the maiden Queen Who quenched those jewelled eyes and mixt with dust That white and crimson, who with cold sharp steel In substance and In spirit, severed the neck And straightened out those glittering supple coils For ever; though for evermore will men Lie subject to the unforgotten gleam Of diamond eyes and cruel crimson mouth, And curse the sword-bright intellect that struck Like lightning far through Europe and the world For England, when amid the embattled fury Of world-wide empires, England stood alone. Still she held back from war, still disavowed The deeds of Drake to Spain; and yet once more Philip, resolved at last never to swerve By one digressive stroke, one ell or inch From his own patient, sure, laborious path, Accepted her suave plea, and with all speed Pressed on his huge emprise until it seemed His coasts groaned with grim bulks of cannonry. Thick loaded hulks of thunder and towers of doom ; 259 DRAKE And, all round Antwerp, Parma still prepared To hurl such armies o'er the rolling sea As in all history hardly the earth herself Felt shake with terror her own green hills and plains. / wait my Queen^s commands! Despite the plea Urged every hour upon her with the fire That burned for action in the soul of Drake. Still she delayed, till on one darkling eve She gave him audience in that glimmering room Where first he saw her. Strangely sounded there The seaman's rough strong passion as he poured His heart before her, pleading — " Every hour Is one more victory lost," and only heard The bitter answer — " Nay, but every hour Is a breath snatched from the unconquerable Doom, that awaits us if we are forced to war. Yea, and who knows? — though Spain may forge a sword, Its point is not inevitably bared Against the breast of England! " As she spake, The winds without clamoured with clash of bells, There was a gleam of torches and a roar — 260 BOOK X Mary, the traitress of the North, is dead, God save the Queen! Her head bent down : she wept. " Pity me, friend, though I be queen, O yet My heart is woman, and I am sore pressed On every side, — Scotland and France and Spain Beset me, and I know not where to turn." Even as she spake, there came a hurried step Into that dim, rich chamber. Walslngham Stood there, before her, without ceremony Thrusting a letter forth: "At last," he cried, *' Your Majesty may read the full intent Of Spain and Rome. Here, plainly written out Upon this paper, worth your kingdom's crown. This letter, stolen by a trusty spy, Out of the inmost chamber of the Pope Sixtus himself, here is your murder planned: Blame not your Ministers, who with such haste Plucked out this viper, Mary, from your breast! Read here — how, with his thirty thousand men, The pick of Europe, Parma joins the Scots, While Ireland, grasped in their Armada's clutch. And the Isle of Wight, against our west and south 261 DRAKE Become their base." " Rome, Rome, and Rome again, And always Rome," she muttered; "even here In England hath she thousands yet. She hath struck Her curse out with pontific finger at me, Cursed me down and away to the bottomless pit. Her shadow like the shadow of clouds or sails. The shadow of that huge event at hand, Darkens the seas already, and the wind Is on my cheek that shakes my kingdom down. She hath thousands here in England, born and bred Englishmen. They will stand by Rome ! " " 'Fore God," Cried Walsingham, " my Queen, you do them wrong ! There is another Rome — not this that lurks And lies and plucks the world back into darkness, And stabs It there for gold. There is a City Whose eyes are tow'rd the morning; on whose heights Blazes the Cross of Christ above the world; A Rome that shall wage warfare yet for God 262 BOOK X In the dark days to come — a Rome whose thought Shall march with our humanity and be proud To cast old creeds like seed into the ground, Watch the strange shoots and foster the new flower Of faiths we know not yet. Is this a dream? I speak as one by knighthood bound to speak; For even this day — and my heart burns with it — I heard the Catholic gentlemen of England Speaking in grave assembly. At one breath Of peril to our island, why, their swords Leapt from their scabbards, and their cry went up To split the heavens — God save our English Queen/** Even as he spake there passed the rushing gleam Of torches once again, and as they stood Silently listening, all the winds ran wild With clamouring bells, and a great cry went up — God save Elizabeth, our English Queen! " I'll vouch for some two hundred Catholic throats Among that thousand," whispered Walsingham Eagerly, with his eyes on the Queen's face. Then, seeing it brighten, fervently he cried, 263 DRAKE Pressing the swift advantage home, " O Madam, The heart of England now is all on firel We are one people, as we never have been In all our history, all prepared to die Around your throne. Madam, you are beloved As never yet was English king or queen! " She looked at him, the tears in her keen eyes Glittered — " And I am very proud," she said, *' But if our enemies command the world. And we have one small island and no more . . ." She ceased; and Drake, in a strange voice, hoarse and low. Trembling with passion deeper than all speech. Cried out — " No more than the great ocean sea Which makes the enemies' coast our frontier now; No more than that great Empire of the deep Which rolls from Pole to Pole, washing the world With thunder, that great Empire whose command This day is yours to take. Hear me, my Queen, This is a dream, a new dream, but a true ; For mightier days are dawning on the world Than heart of man hath known. If England hold The sea, she holds the hundred thousand gates 264 BOOK X That open to futurity. She holds The highway of all ages. Argosies Of unknown glory set their sails this day For England out of ports beyond the stars. Ay, on the sacred seas we ne'er shall know They hoist their sails this day by peaceful quays, Great gleaming wharves i' the perfect City of God, If she but claim her heritage." He ceased; And the deep dream of that new realm, the sea, Through all the soul of Gloriana surged A moment; then, with splendid eyes that filled With fire of sunsets far away, she cried (Faith making her a child, yet queenlier still), ** Yea, claim it thou for me I " A moment there Trembling she stood. Then, once again, there passed A rush of torches through the gloom without, And a great cry ^^God save Elizabeth, God save our English Queen! " " Yea go, then, go," 265 DRAKE She said, " God speed you now, Sir Francis Drake, Not as a privateer, but with full powers, My Admiral-at-the-Seas ! " Without a word Drake bent above her hand and, ere she knew it, His eyes from the dark doorway flashed farewell, And he was gone. But ere he leapt to saddle Walsingham stood at his stirrup, muttering " Ride, Ride now like hell to Plymouth ; for the Queen Is hard beset, and ere ye are out at sea Her mood will change. The friends of Spain will move Earth and the heavens for your recall. They'll tempt her With their false baits of peace, though I shall stand Here at your back through thick and thin, — farewell!'' Fire flashed beneath the hoofs, and Drake was gone. Scarce had he vanished in the night than doubt Once more assailed the Queen. The death of Mary 266 BOOK X Had brought e^en France against her. Walsing- ham, And Burleigh himself, prime mover of that death, Being held in much disfavour for it, stood As helpless. Long ere Drake or human power. They thought, could put to sea, a courier sped To Plymouth bidding Drake forbear to strike At Spain, but keep to the high seas, and, lo ! The roadstead glittered empty. Drake was gone I Gone ! Though the friends of Spain had poured their gold To thin his ranks, and every hour his crews Deserted, he had laughed — " Let Spain buy scum I Next to an honest seaman I love best An honest landsman. What more goodly task Than teaching brave men seamanship? '' He had filled His ships with soldiers ! Out in the teeth of the gale That raged against him he had driven. In vain. Amid the boisterous laughter of the quays, A pinnace dashed in hot pursuit, and met 267 DRAKE A roaring breaker and came hurtling back With oars and spars all trailing In the foam, A tangled mass of wreckage and despair. Sky swept to stormy sky : no sail could live In that great yeast of waves ; but Drake was gone ! Then, once again, across the rolling sea Great rumours rushed of how he had sacked the port Of Cadiz and had swept along the coast To Lisbon, where the whole Armada lay, Had snapped up prizes under Its very nose, And taunted Santa Cruz, High Admiral Of Spain, striving to draw him out for fight, And offering, If his course should He that way, To convoy him to Britain, taunted him So bitterly that for once, In the world's eyes A jest had power to kill; for Santa Cruz Died with the spleen of It, since he could not move Before the appointed season. Then there came Flying back home, the Queen's old Admiral Borough, deserting Drake, and all aghast At Drake's temerity: " For," he said, " this man, 268 iki BOOK X Thrust o'er my head, against all precedent, Bade me follow him into harbour mouths A-flame with cannon like the jaws of death, Whereat I much demurred; and straightway Drake Clapped me in irons, me — ^an officer And Admiral of the Queen; and, though my voice Was all against it, plunged into the pit Without me, left me with some word that burns And rankles in me still, making me fear The man was mad, some word of lonely seas A desert island and a mutineer And dead Magellan's gallows. Sirs, my life Was hardly safe with him. Why, he resolved To storm the Castle of St. Vincent, sirs, A castle on a cliff, grinning with guns, Well-known impregnable! The Spaniards fear Drake ; but to see him land below it and bid Surrender, sirs, the strongest fort of Spain Without a blow, they laughed ! And straightway he. With all the fury of Satan, turned that cliff To hell itself. He sent down to the ships ^69 DRAKE For faggots, broken oars, beams, bowsprits, masts, And piled them up against the outer gates. Higher and higher, and fired them. There he stood Amid the smoke and flame and cannon-shot, This Admiral, like a common seaman, black With soot, besmeared with blood, his naked arms Full of great faggots, labouring like a giant And roaring like Apollyon. Sirs, he is mad! But did he take it, say you? Yea, he took it. The mightiest stronghold on the coast of Spain, Took it and tumbled all its big brass guns Clattering over the cliffs into the sea. But, sirs, ye need not raise a cheer so loud I It is not warfare. 'Twas a madman's trick, A devil's I" Then the rumour of a storm That scattered the fleet of Drake to the four winds Disturbed the heart of England, as his ships Came straggling into harbour, one by one, Saying they could not find him. Then, at last, When the storm burst in its earth-shaking might Along our coasts, one night of rolling gloom 270 BOOK X His cannon woke old Plymouth. In he came Across the thunder and lightning of the sea With his grim ship of war, and close behind A shadow like a mountain or a cloud Torn from the heaven-high panoplies of Spain, A captured galleon loomed, and round her prow A blazoned scroll, whence (as she neared the quays Which many a lanthorn swung from brawny fist Yellowed) the sudden crimson of her name San Filippe flashed o'er the white sea of faces, And a rending shout went skyward that outroared The blanching breakers — " 'Tis the heart of Spain ! The great San Filippe! '* Overhead she towered, The mightiest ship afloat; and In her hold The riches of a continent, a prize Greater than earth had ever known; for there Not only ruby and pearl like ocean beaches Heaped on some wizard coast In that dim hull Blazed to the lanthorn light; not only gold Gleamed, though of gold a million would not buy Her store; but In her cabin lay the charts And secrets of the wild unwhispered wealth 271 DRAKE Of India — secrets that splashed London wharves With coloured dreams and made her misty streets Flame like an Eastern City when the sun Shatters itself on jewelled domes and spills Its crimson wreckage thro' the silvery palms. And of those dreams the far East India quest Began : the first foundation-stone was laid Of our great Indian Empire, and a star Began to tremble on the brows of England That Time can never darken. But now the seas Darkened indeed with menace; now at last The cold wind of the black approaching wings Of Azrael crept across the deep : the storm Throbbed with their thunderous pulse, and ere that moon Waned, a swift gunboat foamed into the Sound With word that all the Invincible Armada Was hoisting sail for England. Even now, Elizabeth, torn a thousand ways, withheld The word for which Drake pleaded as for life, 272 BOOK X That he might meet them ere they left their coasts, Meet them or ever they reached the Channel, meet them Now, or — " Too late I too late ! " At last his voice Beat down e'en those that blindly dinned her ears With chatter of meeting Spain on British soil; And swiftly she commanded (seeing once more The light that burned amid the approaching gloom In Drake's deep eyes) Lord Howard of Effingham, High Admiral of England, straight to join him At Plymouth Sound. "How many ships are wanted?" She asked him, thinking " we are few, indeed! " " Give me but sixteen merchantmen," he said, " And but four battleships, by the mercy of God, I'll answer for the Armada ! " Out to sea They swept, in the teeth of a gale; but vainly Drake Strove to impart the thought wherewith his mind Travailed — to win command of the ocean sea By bursting on the fleets of Spain at once 273 DRAKE Even as they left their ports, not as of old To hover In a vain dream of defence Round fifty threatened points of British coast, But Howard, clinging to his old-world order. Flung out his ships in a loose, long, straggling line Across the Channel, waiting, wary, alert, But powerless thus as a string of scattered sea-gulls Beating against the storm. Then, flying to meet them, A merchantman brought terror down the wind, With news that she had seen that monstrous host Stretching from sky to sky, great hulks of doom, Dragging death's midnight with them o'er the sea TowVds England. Up to Howard's flag^ship Drake In his Immortal battle-ship — Revenge, Rushed thro' the foam, and thro' the swirling seas His pinnace dashed alongside. On to the decks O' the tossing flag-ship, like a very Viking Shaking the surf and rainbows of the spray From sun-smit lion-like mane and beard he stood Before Lord Howard in the escutcheoned poop And poured his heart out like the rending sea 274 BOOK X In passionate wave on wave: " If yonder fleet Once reach the Channel, hardly the mercy of God Saves England! I would pray with my last breath, Let us beat up to windward of them now, And handle them before they reach the Channel." "Nay; but we cannot bare the coast," cried Howard, " Nor have we stores of powder or food enough ! " " My lord," said Drake, with his great arm outstretched, " There is food enough In yonder enemy's ships. And powder enough and cannon-shot enough ! We must revictual there. Look! look I " he cried, And pointed to the heavens. As for a soul That by sheer force of will compels the world To work his bidding, so It seemed the wind That blew against them slowly veered. The sails Quivered, the skies revolved. A northerly breeze Awoke, and now, behind the British ships. Blew steadily tow'rds the unseen host of Spain. " It IS the breath of God," cried Drake, " they lie 275 DRAKE Wind-bound, and we may work our will with them. Signal the word, Lord Howard, and drive down 1 '* And as a man convinced by Heaven itself Lord Howard ordered, straightway, the whole fleet To advance. And now, indeed, as Drake foresaw. The Armada lay, beyond the dim horizon, Wind-bound and helpless In Corunna Bay, At England's mercy, could her fleet but draw Nigh enough, with Its fire-ships and great guns To windward. Nearer, nearer league by league The ships of England came ; till Ushant lay Some seventy leagues behind. Then, yet once more The wind veered, straight against them. To remain Beating against it idly was to starve: And, as a man whose power upon the world Fails for one moment of exhausted will, Drake, gathering up his forces as he went For one more supreme effort, turned his ship 276 BOOK X Tow'rds Plymouth, and retreated with the rest. There, while the ships refitted with all haste And ax and hammer rang, one golden eve Just as the setting sun began to fringe The clouds with crimson, and the creaming waves Were one wild riot of fairy rainbows, Drake Stood with old comrades on the close-cropped green Of Plymouth Hoe, playing a game of bowls. Far off unseen, a little barque, full-sail, Struggled and leapt and strove tow'rds Plymouth Sound, Noteless as any speckled herring-gull Flickering between the white flakes of the waves. A group of schoolboys with their satchels lay Stretched on the green, gazing with great wide eyes Upon their seamen heroes, as like gods Disporting with the battles of the world They loomed, tossing black bowls like cannon-balls Against the rosy West, or lounged at ease With faces olive-dark against that sky 277 DRAKE Laughing, while from the neighbouring inn mine host, White-aproned and blue-jerkined, hurried out With foaming cups of sack, and they drank deep. Tossing their heads back under the golden clouds And burying their bearded lips. The hues That slashed their doublets, for the boys* bright eyes (Even as the gleams of Grecian cloud or moon Revealed the old gods) were here rich dusky streaks Of splendour from the Spanish Main, that shone But to proclaim these heroes. There a boy More bold crept nearer to a slouched hat thrown Upon the green, and touched the silver plume. And felt as if he had touched a sunset-Isle Of feathery palms beyond a crimson sea. Another stared at the blue rings of smoke A storm-scarred seaman puffed from a long pipe Primed with the strange new herb they had lately found In far Virginia. But the little ship Now plunging into Plymouth Bay none saw. 278 BOOK X E'en when she had anchored and her straining boat Had touched the land, and the boat's crew over the quays Leapt with a shout, scarce was there one to heed. A seaman, smiling, swaggered out of the inn Swinging in one brown hand a gleaming cage Wherein a big green parrot chattered and clung Fluttering against the wires. A troop of girls With arms linked paused to watch the game of bowls ; And now they flocked around the cage, while one With rosy finger tempted the horny beak To bite. Close overhead a sea-mew flashed • Seaward. Once, from an open window, soft Through trellised leaves, not far away, a voice Floated — a voice that flushed the cheek of Drake, The voice of Bess, bending her glossy head Over the broidery frame, In a quiet song. The song ceased. Still, with rainbows in their eyes. The schoolboys watched the bowls like cannon- balls 279 DRAKE Roll from the hand of gods along the turf. Suddenly, towVds the green, a little cloud Of seamen, shouting, stumbling, as they ran Drew all eyes on them. The game ceased. A voice Rough with the storms of many an ocean roared, " Drake ! Cap'en Drake I The Armada ! They are in the Channel I We sighted them — A line of battle-ships ! We could not see An end of them. They stretch from east to west Like a great storm of clouds, glinting with guns, From sky to sky I " 'So, after all his strife, The wasted weeks had tripped him, the fierce hours Of pleading for the sea's command, great hours And golden moments, all were lost. The fleet Of Spain had won the Channel without a blow. All eyes were turned on Drake, as he stood there A giant against the sunset and the sea Looming, alone. Far off, the first white star Gleamed in a rosy space of heaven. He tossed A grim black ball i' the lustrous air and laughed, — " Come, lads," he said, " weVe time to finish the game I " 280 BOOK XI FEW minutes, and well wasted those, were spent On that great game of bowls; for well knew Drake What panic threatened Plymouth, since his fleet Lay trapped there by the black headwind that blew Straight up the Sound, and Plymouth town itself. Except the ships won seaward ere the dawn, Lay at the Armada's mercy. Never a seaman Of all the sea-dogs clustered on the quays, And all the captains clamouring round Lord Howard, Hoped that one ship might win to the open sea: At dawn, they thought, the Armada's rolling guns To windward, in an hour, must shatter them. Huddled in their red slaughter-house like sheep. Now was the great sun sunken and the night 281 DRAKE Dark. Far to Westward, like the soul of man Fighting blind nature, a wild flare of red Upon some windy headland suddenly leapt And vanished flickering into the clouds. Again It leapt and vanished : then all at once it streamed Steadily as a crimson torch upheld By Titan hands to heaven. It was the first Beacon I A sudden silence swept along The seething quays, and in their midst appeared Drake. Then the jubilant thunder of his voice Rolled, buffeting the sea-wind far and nigh. And ere they knew what power as of a sea Surged through them, his immortal battle-ship Revenge had flung out cables to the quays. And while the seamen, as he had commanded, Knotted thick ropes together, he stood apart (For well he knew what panic threatened still) Whittling idly at a scrap of wood, And carved a little boat out for the child Of some old sea companion. So great and calm a master of the world Seemed Drake that, as he whittled, and the chips 2S2 BOOK XI Fluttered Into the blackness over the quay, Men said that in this hour of England's need Each tiny flake turned to a battle-ship; For now began the lanthorns, one by one, To glitter, and half-reveal the shadowy hulks Before him. — So the huge old legend grew. Not all unworthy the Homeric age Of gods and godlike men. St. Michael's Mount, Answering the first wild beacon far away. Rolled crimson thunders to the stormy sky! The ropes were knotted. Through the panting dark Great heaving lines of seamen all together Hauled with a shout, and all together again Hauled with a shout against the roaring wind; And slowly, slowly, onward tow'rds the sea Moved the Revenge, and seaward ever heaved The brawny backs together, and In their midst. Suddenly, as they slackened, Drake was there Hauling like any ten, and with his heart Doubling the strength of all, giving them joy Of battle against those odds, — Ay, till they found 283 DRAKE Delight i' the burning tingle of the blood That even their hardy hands must feel besmear The harsh, rough, straining ropes. There as they toiled. Answering a score of hills, old Beachy Head Streamed like a furnace to the rolling clouds. Then all around the coast each windy ness And craggy mountain kindled. Peak from peak Caught the tremendous fire, and passed It on Round the bluff East and the black mouth of Thames, — Ay, Northward to the waste wild Yorkshire fells And gloomy Cumberland, where, like a giant. Great Skiddaw grasped the red tempestuous brand, And thrust It up against the reeling heavens. Then all night long. Inland, the wandering winds Ran wild with clamour and clash of startled bells ; All night the cities seethed with torches, flashed With twenty thousand flames of burnished steel; While over the trample and thunder of hooves blazed forth The lightning of wild trumpets. Lonely lanes Of country darkness, lit by cottage doors Entwined with rose and honeysuckle, roared 284 BOOK XI Like mountain torrents now — East, West, and South, As to the coasts with pike and musket streamed The trained bands, horse and foot, from every town And every hamlet. All the shaggy hills From Milford Haven to the Downs of Kent, And up to Humber, gleamed with many a hedge Of pikes between the beacon's crimson glares; While in red London forty thousand men, In case the invader should prevail, drew swords Around their Queen. All night in dark St. Paul's, While round it rolled a multitudinous roar As of the Atlantic on a Western beach. And all the leaning London streets were lit With fury of torches, rose the passionate prayer Of England's peril : O Lord God of Hosts, Let Thine enemies know that Thou hast taken England into Thine hands! The mighty sound Rolled, billowing round the kneeling aisles, then died. Echoing up the heights. A voice, far off, 285 DRAKE As on the cross of Calvary, caught it up And poured the prayer o'er that deep hush, alone : We beseech thee, O God, to go before our armies, Bless and prosper them both by land and sea! Grant unto them Thy victory, O God, As thou usedst to do to Thy children when they please Thee! All power, all strength, all victory come from Thee! Then from the lips of all those thousands burst A sound as from the rent heart of an ocean, One tumult, one great rushing storm of wings Cleaving the darkness round the Gates of Heaven : Some put their trust in chariots and some in horses; But we will remember Thy name, O Lord, our God! So, while at Plymouth Sound her seamen toiled All through the night, and scarce a ship had won Seaward, the heart of England cried to God. All night, while trumpets yelled and blared without, And signal cannon shook the blazoned panes, 286 BOOK XI And billowing multitudes went thundering by, Amid that solemn pillared hush arose From lips of kneeling thousands one great prayer Storming the Gates of Heaven! O Lord, our God, Heavenly Father, have mercy upon our Queen, To whom Thy far dispersed flock do fly In the anguish of their souls. Behold, behold, How many princes hand themselves against her. How long Thy servant hath laboured to them for peace. How proudly they prepare themselves for battle! Arise, therefore! Maintain Thine own cause, Judge Thou between her and her enemies! She seeketh not her own honour, but Thine, Not the dominions of others, but Thy truth. Not bloodshed, but the saving of the afflicted! Oh, rend the heavens, therefore, and come down. Deliver Thy people! To vanquish is all one with Thee, by few Or many, want or wealthy weakness or strength. The cause is Thine, the enemies Thine, the afflicted Thine! The honour, victory, and triumph 287 DRAKE Thine! Grant her people now one heart, one mind, One strength. Give unto her councils and her captains Wisdom and courage strongly to withstand The forces of her enemies, that the fame And glory of Thy Kingdom may he spread Unto the ends of the world. Father, we crave This in Thy mercy, for the precious death Of Thy dear Son, our Saviour, Jesus Christ! Amen, And as the dreadful dawn thro' mist-wreaths broke, And out of Plymouth Sound at last, with cheers Ringing from many a thousand throats, there struggled Six little ships, all that the night's long toil Had warped down to the sea (but leading them The ship of Drake) there rose one ocean cry From all those worshippers — Let God arise, And let His enemies he scattered! Under the leaden fogs of that new dawn, 288 BOOK XI Empty and cold, Indifferent as death, The sea heaved strangely to the seamen's eyes, Seeing all round them only the leaden surge Wrapped In wet mists or flashing here and there With crumbling white. Against the cold wet wind Westward the little ships of England beat With short tacks, close inshore, striving to win The windward station of the threatening battle That neared behind the veil. Six litde ships. No more, beat Westward, even as all mankind Beats up against that universal wind Whereon like withered leaves all else is blown Down one wide way to death : the soul alone. Whether at last it wins, or faints and fails, Stems the dark tide with its intrepid sails. Close-hauled, with many a short tack, struggled and strained, Northwest, Southwest, the ships; but ever West- ward gained Some little way with every tack; and soon. While the prows plunged beneath the grey-gold noon, Lapped by the crackling waves, even as the wind 289 DRAKE Died down a little, in the mists behind Stole out from Plymouth Sound the struggling score Of ships that might not win last night to sea. They followed; but the Six went on before, Not knowing, alone, for God and Liberty. Now, as they tacked Northwest, the sullen roar Of reefs crept out, or some strange bleating sound Of sheep upon the hills. Southwest once more The bo'sun's whistle swung their bowsprits round; Southwest until the long low lapping splash Was all they heard of keels that still ran out Seaward, then with one muffled heave and crash Once more the whistles brought their sails about. And now the noon began to wane; the West With slow rich colours filled and shadowy forms. Dark curdling wreaths and fogs with crimsoned breast, And tangled zones of dusk like frozen storms, Motionless, flagged with sunset, hulled with doom! Motionless? Nay, across the darkening deep 290 BOOK XI Surely the whole sky moved its gorgeous gloom Onward; and like the curtains of a sleep The red fogs crumbled, mists dissolved away! There, like death's secret dawning thro' a dream, Great thrones of thunder dusked the dying day, And, higher, pale towers of cloud began to gleam. There, in one heaven-wide storm, great masts and clouds Of sail crept slowly forth, the ships of Spain ! From North to South, their tangled spars and shrouds Controlled the slow wind as with bit and rein; Onward they rode in insolent disdain Sighting the little fleet of England there. While o'er the sullen splendour of the main Three solemn guns tolled all their host to prayer. And their great ensign blazoned all the doom-fraught air. The sacred standard of their proud crusade Up to the mast-head of their flag-ship soared; On one side knelt the Holy Mother-maid, On one the crucified Redeemer poured His blood, and all their kneeling hosts adored 291 DRAKE Their saints, and clouds of incense heavenward streamed, While pomp of cannonry and pike and sword Down long sea-lanes of mocking menace gleamed, And chant of priests rolled out o'er seas that darkly dreamed. Who comes to fight for England? Is it ye, Six little straws that dance upon the foam? Ay, sweeping o'er the sunset-crimsoned sea Let the proud pageant in its glory come, Leaving the sunset like a hecatomb Of souls whose bodies yet endure the chain! Let slaves, by thousands, branded, scarred and dumb, In those dark galleys grip their oars again. And o'er the rolling deep bring on the pomp of Spain ; — Bring on the pomp of royal paladins (For all the princedoms of the land are there!) And for the gorgeous purple of their sins The papal pomp bring on with psalm and prayer: Nearer the splendour heaves; can ye not hear The rushing foam, not see the blazoned arms. And black-faced hosts thro' leagues of golden air 292 BOOK XI Crowding the decks, muttering their beads and charms To where. In furthest heaven, they thicken like locust- swarms? Bring on the pomp and pride of old Castile, Blazon the skies with royal Aragon, Beneath Oquendo let old ocean reel, The purple pomp of priestly Rome bring on; And let her censers dusk the dying sun, The thunder of her banners on the breeze Following Sidonia's glorious galleon Deride the sleeping thunder of the seas. While twenty thousand warriors chant her litanies. Lo, all their decks are kneeling! Sky to sky Responds! It is their solemn evening hour. Salve Regina^ though the daylight die. Salve Regina, though the darkness lour; Have they not still the kingdom and the power? Salve Regina, hark, their thousands cry, From where like clouds to where like mountains tower Their crowded galleons looming far or nigh. Salve Regina, hark, what distant seas reply! 293. DRAKE What distant seas, what distant ages hear? Bring on the pomp ! the sun of Spain goes down : The moon but swells the tide of praise and prayer; Bring on the world-wide pomp of her renown; Let darkness crown her with a starrier crown, And let her watch the fierce waves crouch and fawn Round those huge hulks from which her cannon frown, While close inshore the wet sea-mists are drawn Round England's Drake: then wait, in triumph, for the dawn. The sun of Rome goes down ; the night is dark ! Still are her thousands praying, still their cry Ascends from the wide waste of waters, hark! Ave Maria, darker grows the sky! Ave Maria, those about to die Salute thee! Nay, what wandering winds blaspheme With random gusts of chilling prophecy Against the solemn sounds that heavenward stream! The night is come at last. Break not the splendid dream. But through the misty darkness, close inshore, Northwest, Southwest, and ever Westward strained 294 BOOK XI The little ships of England, all night long, As down the coast the reddening beacons leapt, The crackle and lapping splash of tacking keels, The bo'sun's low sharp whistles and the whine Of ropes, mixing with many a sea-bird's cry Disturbed the darkness, waking vague swift fears Among the mighty hulks of Spain that lay Nearest, then fading through the mists inshore Northwest, then growing again, but farther down Their ranks to Westward with each dark return And dark departure, till the rearmost rank Of grim sea-castles heard the swish and creak Pass plashing seaward thro' the wet sea-mists To windward now of all that monstrous host, Then heard no more than wandering sea-birds' cries Wheeling around their leagues of lanthorn-llght, Or heave of waters, waiting for the dawn. Dawn, everlasting and almighty dawn Rolled o'er the waters, the grey mists were fled: See, in their reeking heaven-wide crescent drawn Those masts and spars and cloudy sails, outspread 295 DRAKE Like one great sulphurous tempest soaked with red, In vain withstand the march of brightening skies: The dawn sweeps onward and the night is dead, And, lo! to windward, what bright menace lies, What glory kindles now in England's wakening eyes? There, on the glittering plains of open sea, To windward now, behind the fleets of Spain, Two little files of ships are tossing free. Free of the winds and of the wind-swept main: Were they not trapped? Who brought them forth again, Free of the great new fields of England's war, With sails like blossoms shining after rain, And guns that sparkle to the morning star? Drake ! — first upon the deep that rolls to Trafalgar ! And Spain knows well that flag of fiery fame, Spain knows who leads those files across the sea; Implacable, invincible, his name El Draque, creeps hissing through her ranks to lee; But now she holds the rolling heavens in fee. His ships are few. They surge across the foam. The hunt is up! But need the mountains flee 2^6 BOOK XI Or fear the snarling wolf-pack? Let them come! They crouch, but dare not leap upon the flanks of Rome. Nearer they come and nearer! Nay, prepare! Close your huge ranks that sweep from sky to sky! Madness itself would shrink; but Drake will dare Eternal hell! Let the great signal fly — Close up your ranks; El Draque comes down to die! El Draque is brave! The vast sea cities loom Thro' heaven: Spain spares one smile of chivalry, One wintry smile across her cannons' gloom As that frail fleet full-sail comes rushing tow'rds its doom. Suddenly, as the wild change of a dream, Even as the Spaniards watched those lean sharp prows Leap straight at their huge hulks, watched well content. Knowing their foes, once grappled, must be doomed; Even as they caught the rush and hiss of foam Across that narrow, dwindling gleam of sea. And heard, abruptly close, the sharp commands 297 DRAKE And steady British answers, caught one glimpse Of bare-armed seamen waiting by their guns, The vision changed! The ships of England swerved Swiftly — a volley of flame and thunder swept Blinding the buffeted air, a volley of iron From four sheer broadsides, crashing thro' a hulk Of Spain. She reeled, blind in the fiery surge And fury of that assault. So swift it seemed That as she heeled to leeward, ere her guns Trained on the foe once more, the sulphurous cloud That wrapped the sea, once, twice, and thrice again Split with red thunder-claps that rent and raked Her huge beams through and through. Ay, as she heeled To leeward still, her own grim cannon belched Their lava skyward, wounding the void air, And, as by miracle, the ships of Drake Were gone. Along the Spanish rear they swept From North to South, raking them as they went At close range, hardly a pistol-shot away, With volley on volley. Never Spain had seen Seamen or marksmen like to these who sailed 298 BOOK XI Two knots against her one. They came and went, Suddenly neared or sheered away at will As if by magic, pouring flame and Iron In four full broadsides thro' some Spanish hulk Ere one of hers burst blindly at the sky. Southward, along the Spanish rear they swept, Then swung about, and volleying sheets of flame, Iron, and death, along the same fierce road Littered with spars, reeking with sulphurous fumes, Returned, triumphantly rushing, all their sails Alow, aloft, full-bellied with the wind. Then, then, from sky to sky, one mighty surge Of baleful pride, huge wrath, stormy disdain, With shuddering clouds and towers of sail would urge Onward the heaving citadels of Spain, Which dragged earth's thunders o'er the groaning main, And held the panoplies of faith in fee, Beating against the wind, struggling in vain To close with that swift ocean cavalry: Spain had all earth in charge! Had England, then, the sea? Spain had the mountains — mountains flow like clouds! 299 DRAKE Spain had great kingdoms — kingdoms melt away ! Yet, in that crescent, army on army crowds, How shall she fear what seas or winds can say? — The seas that leap and shine round earth's decay. The winds that mount and sing while empires fall, And mountains pass like waves in the wind's way, And dying gods thro' shuddering twilights call; Had England, then, the sea that sweeps o'er one and all? See, in gigantic wrath the Rata hurls Her mighty prows round to the wild sea-wind: The deep like one black maelstrom round her swirls While great Recalde follows hard behind: Reeling, like Titans, thunder-blasted, blind, They strive to cross the ships of England — yea. Challenge them to the grapple, and only find Red broadsides bursting o'er the bursting spray. And England surging still along her windward way! To windward still Revenge and Raleigh flasH And thunder, and the sea flames red between: In vain against the wind the galleons crash And plunge and pour blind volleys thro' the screen 300 BOOK XI Of rolling sulphurous clouds at dimly seen Topsails that, to and fro, like sea-birds fly! Ever to leeward the great hulks careen; Their thousand cannon can but wound the sky, While England's little Rainbow foams and flashes by. Suddenly the flag-ship of Recalde, stung To fury it seemed, heeled like an avalanche To leeward, then reeled out beyond the rest Against the wind, alone, daring the foe To grapple her. At once the little Revenge With Drake's flag flying flashed at her throat, And hardly a cable's-length away out-belched Broadside on broadside, under those great cannon. Crashing through five-foot beams, four shots to one, While Howard and the rest swept to and fro Keeping at deadly bay the rolling hulks That looming like Leviathans now plunged Desperately against the freshening wind To rescue the great flag-ship where she lay Alone, amid the cannonades of Drake, Alone, like a volcanic island lashed 301 DRAKE With crimson hurricanes, dinning the winds With isolated thunders, flaking the skies With wrathful lava, while great spars and blocks Leapt through the cloudy glare and fell, far off, Like small black stones into the hissing sea. Oquendo saw her peril far away! His rushing prow thro' heaven begins to loom, Oquendo, first in all that proud array. Hath heart the pride of Spain to reassume: He comes; the rolling seas are dusked with gloom Oi his great sails! Now round him once again. Thrust out your oars, ye mighty hulks of doom ; Forward, with hiss of whip and clank of chain! Let twice ten hundred slaves bring on the wrath of Spain ! Sidonia comes! Toledo comes! — ^huge ranks That rally against the storm from sky to sky. As down the dark blood-rusted chain-locked planks Of labouring galleys the dark slave-guards ply Their knotted scourges, and the red flakes fly From bare scarred backs that quiver and heave once more, 302 BOOK XI And slaves that heed not If they live or die Pull with numb arms at many a red-stained oar, Nor know the sea's dull crash from cannon's growing roar. Bring on the wrath ! From heaven to rushing heaven The white foam sweeps around their fierce array; In vain before their shattering crimson levin The ships of England flash and dart away: Not England's heart can hold that host at bay! See, a swift signal shoots along her line, Her ships are scattered ; they fly, they fly like spray Driven against the wind by wrath divine, While, round Recalde now, SIdonla's cannon shine. The wild sea-winds with golden trumpets blaze! One wave will wash away the crimson stain That blots Recalde's decks. Her first amaze Is over: down the Channel once again Turns the triumphant pageantry of Spain In battle-order, now. Behind her, far, While the broad sun sinks to the Western main, Glitter the little ships of England's war. And over them in heaven glides out the first white star. The sun goes down : the heart of Spain is proud : 303 DRAKE Her censers fume, her golden trumpets blow! Into the darkening East with cloud on cloud Of broad-flung sail her huge sea-castles go: Rich under blazoned poops like rose-flushed snow Tosses the foam. Far off the sunset gleams: Her banners like a thousand sunsets glow, As down the darkening East the pageant streams, Full-fraught with doom for England, rigged with princely dreams. Nay, " rigged with curses dark," as o'er the waves Drake watched them slowly sweeping into the gloom That thickened down the Channel, watched them go In ranks compact, roundels impregnable, With Biscay's bristling, broad-beamed squadron drawn Behind for rear-guard. As the sun went down Drake flew the council-flag. Across the sea That gleamed still like a myrlad-petalled rose Up to the little Revenge the pinnaces foamed. There, on Drake's powder-grimed escutcheoned poop 304 BOOK XI They gathered, Admirals and great flag-captains, Hawkins, Frobisher, shining names and famous, And some content to serve and follow and fight Where duty called unknown, but heroes all. High on the poop they clustered, gazing East With faces dark as iron against the flame Of sunset, eagle-faces, iron lips, And keen eyes fiercely flashing as they turned Like sword-flames now, or dark and deep as night Watching the vast Armada slowly mix Its broad-flung sails with twilight where it dragged Thro' thickening heavens Its curdled storm of clouds Down the wide darkening Channel. " My Lord Howard,'^ Said Drake, " it seems we have but scarred the skins Of those huge hulks: the hour grows late for England. Twere well to handle them again at once." A growl Of fierce approval answered; but Lord Howard Cried out, " Attack we cannot, save at risk 305 DRAKE Of our whole fleet. It Is not death I fear, But England's peril. We have fought all day, Accomplished nothing! Half our powder Is spent I I think it best to hang upon their flanks Till we be reinforced! " " My lord," said Drake, " Had we that week to spare for which I prayed, And were we handling them in Spanish seas, We might delay. There is no choosing now. Yon hulks of doom are steadfastly resolved On one tremendous path and solid end- — To join their powers with Parma's thirty thousand (Not heeding our light horsemen of the sea). Then in one earthquake of o'erwhelming arms Roll Europe over England. They've not grasped The first poor thought which now and evermore Must be the sceptre of Britain, the steel trident Of ocean sovereignty. That mighty fleet Invincible, impregnable, omnipotent. Must here and now be shattered, never be joined With Parma, never abase the wind-swept sea, With oaken roads for thundering legions To trample in the splendour of the sun 306 BOOK XI From Europe to our Island. As for food, In yonder enemy's fleet there Is food enough To feed a nation; ay, and powder enough To split an empire. I will answer for it Ye shall not lack of either, nor for shot. Not though ye pluck them out of your own beams To feed your hungry cannon. Cast your bread Upon the waters. Think not of the Queen ! She will not send It! For she hath not known (How could she know) this wide new realm of hers. When we ourselves — her seamen — scarce have learnt What means this kingdom of the ocean sea To England and her throne-^food, life-blood, life! She could not understand who, when our ships Put out from Plymouth, hardly gave them store Of powder and shot to last three fighting days, Or rations even for those. Blame not the Queen, Who hath striven for England as no king hath fought Since England was a nation. Bear with me, 307 DRAKE For I must pour my heart before you now This one last time. Yon fishing-boats have brought Tidings how on this very day she rode Before her mustered pikes at Tilbury. Methinks I see her riding down their lines High on her milk-white Barbary charger, hear Her voice — * My people, though my flesh be woman, My heart is of your kingly lion's breed: I come myself to lead you ! ' I see the sun Shining upon her armour, hear the voice Of all her armies roaring like one sea— God save Elizabeth, our English Queen! * God save her,' I say, too ; but still she dreams, As all too many of us — bear with me I — dream. Of Cregy, when our England's war was thus; When we, too, hurled our hosts across the deep As now Spain dreams to hurl them on our isle. But now our war Is otherwise. We claim The sea's command, and Spain shall never land One swordsman on our island. Blame her not. But look not to the Queen. The people fight This war of ours, not princes. In this hour 308 BOOK XI God maketh us a people. We have seen Victories, never victory like to this, When in our England's darkest hour of need Her seamen, without wage, powder, or food. Are yet on fire to fight for her. Your ships Tossing in the great sunset of an Empire, Dawn of a sovereign people, are all manned By heroes, ragged, hungry, who will die Like flies ere long, because they have no food But turns to fever-breeding carrion Not fit for dogs. They are half-naked, hopeless Living, of any reward; and if they die They die a dog's death. We shall reap the fame While they — great God! and all this cannot quench The glory in their eyes. They will be served Six at a mess of four, eking it out With what their own rude nets may catch by night. Silvering the guns and naked arms that haul Under the stars with silver past all price, While some small ship-boy In the black crow's nest Watches across the waters for the foe. My lord, it is a terrible thing for Spain 309 DRAKE When poor men thus go out against her princes ; For so God whispers * Victory ' In our ears, I cannot dare to doubt it." Once again A growl of fierce approval answered him, And Hawkins cried — ** I stand by Francis Drake" ; But Howard, clinging to his old-world order, Yet with such manly strength as dared to rank Drake's wisdom of the sea above his own. Sturdily shook his head. " I dare not risk A close attack. Once grappled we are doomed. We'll follow on their trail no less, with Drake Leading. Our oriflamme to-night shall be His cresset and stern-lanthorn. Where that shines We follow." Drake, still thinking In his heart, — " And if Spain be not shattered here and now We are doomed no less," must even rest content With that good vantage. As the sunset died Over the darkling emerald seas that swelled Before the freshening wind, the pinnaces dashed To their own ships; and into the mind of Drake 31Q BOOK XI There stole a plot that twitched his lips to a smile. High on the heaving purple of the poop Under the glimmer of firm and full-blown sails He stood, an iron statue, glancing back Anon at his stern-cresset's crimson flare, The star of all the shadowy ships that plunged Like ghosts amid the grey stream of his wake, And all around him heard the low keen song Of hidden ropes above the wail and creak Of blocks and long low swish of cloven foam, A keen rope-music in the formless night, A harmony, a strong intent good sound. Well-strung and taut, singing the will of man. *' Your orlflamme,'* he muttered, — " so you travail With sea-speech in the tongue of old Poictiers — Shall be my own stern-lanthorn. Watch it well, My good Lord Howard." Over the surging seas The little Revenge went swooping on the trail. Leading the ships of England. One by one Out of the gloom before them slowly crept, Sinister gleam by gleam, like blood-red stars. The rearmost lanthorns of the Spanish Fleet, 311 DRAKE A shaggy purple sky of secret storm Heaving from north to south upon the black Breast of the waters. Once again with lips Twitched to a smile, Drake suddenly bade them crowd All sail upon the little Revenge. She leapt Forward. Smiling he watched the widening gap Between the ships that followed and her light, Then as to those behind, its flicker must seem Wellnigh confused with those of Spain, he cried, " Now, master bo'sun, quench their oriflamme, Dip their damned cresset in the good black Sea ! The rearmost light of Spain shall lead them now, A little closer, if they think it ours. Pray God, they come to blows! " Even as he spake, His cresset-flare went out in the thick night: A fluttering as of blind bewildered moths A moment seized upon the shadowy ships Behind him, then with crowded sail they steered Straight for the rearmost cresset-flare of Spain. 312 BOOK XII MEANWHILE, as In the gloom he slipped aside Along the Spanish ranks, waiting the crash Of battle, suddenly Drake became aware Of strange sails bearing up Into the wind Around his right, and thought, " the Armada strives To weather us In the dark.'* Down went his helm, And all alone the little Revenge gave chase, Till as the moon crept slowly forth, she stood Beside the ghostly ships, only to see Bewildered Flemish merchantmen, amazed With fears of Armageddon — such vast shrouds Had lately passed them on the rolling seas. Down went his helm again, with one grim curse Upon the chance that led him thus astray ; And down the wind the little Revenge once more Swept on the trail. Fainter and fainter now 313 DRAKE Glared the red beacons on the British coasts, And the wind slackened and the glimmering East Greyed and reddened, yet Drake had not regained Sight of the ships. When the full glory of dawn Dazzled the sea, he found himself alone, With one huge galleon helplessly drifting A cable's-length away. Around her prow, Nuestra Senora del Rosarioy Richly emblazoned, gold on red, proclaimed The flagship of great Valdes, of the fleet Of Andalusia, captain-general. She, Last night, in dark collision with the hulks Of Spain, had lost her foremast. Through the night Her guns, long rank on deadly rank, had kept All enemies at bay. Drake summoned her Instantly to surrender. She returned A scornful answer from the glittering poop Where two-score officers crowned the golden sea And stained the dawn with blots of richer colour Loftily clustered in the glowing sky, Doubleted with cramoisy velvet, wreathed With golden chains, blazing with jewelled swords 314 BOOK XII And crusted poignards. " What proud haste was this?" They asked, glancing at their huge tiers of cannon And crowded decks of swarthy soldiery; *' What madman In yon cockle-shell defied Spain? " "Tell them it is El Draque," he said, "who lacks The time to parley; therefore it will be well They strike at once, for I am in great haste." There, at the sound of that renowned name, Without a word down came their blazoned flag I Like a great fragment of the dawn it lay Crumpled upon their decks. . . . Into the soft bloom and Italian blue Of sparkling, ever-beautiful Torbay, Belted as with warm Mediterranean crags, The little Revenge foamed with her mighty prize, A prize indeed — not for the casks of gold Drake split in the rich sunlight and poured out Like dross amongst his men, but in her hold Lay many tons of powder, worth their weight In rubles now to Britain. Into the hands 315 DRAKE Of swarthy Brixham fishermen he gave Prisoners and prize, then — loaded stem to stern With powder and shot — their swiftest trawlers flew Like falcons following a thunder-cloud Behind him, as with crowded sail he rushed On England's trail once more. Like a caged lion Drake paced his deck, praying he yet might reach The fight in time; and ever the warm light w^ind Slackened. Not till the sun was half-way fallen Once more crept out in front those dusky thrones Of thunder, heaving on the smooth bright sea From North to South with Howard's clustered fleet Like tiny clouds, becalmed, not half a mile Behind the Spaniards. For the breeze had failed Their bhnd midnight pursuit; and now attack Seemed hopeless. Even as Drake drew nigh, the last Breath of the wind sank. One more day had flown, Nought was accomplished; and the Armada lay Some leagues of golden sea-way nearer now 316 BOOK XII To its great goal. The sun went down : the moon Rose glittering. Hardly a cannon-shot apart The two fleets lay becalmed upon the silver Swell of the smooth night-tide. The hour had come For Spain to strike. The ships of England drifted Helplessly, at the mercy of those great hulks Oared by their thousand slaves. % Onward they came, Swinging suddenly in tremendous gloom Over the silver seas. But even as Drake, With eyes on fire at last for his last fight, Measured the distance ere he gave the word To greet it with his cannon, suddenly The shining face of the deep began to shiver With dusky patches: the doomed English sails Quivered and, filling smart from the Northeast, The little Revenge rushed down their broken line Signalling them to follow, and ere they knew What miracle had saved them, they all sprang Their luff and ran large out to sea. For now The Armada lay to windward, and to fight Meant to be grappled and overwhelmed; but dark 317 DRAKE Within the mind of Drake, a fiercer plan Already had shaped Itself. ''They fly! They fly!" Rending the heavens from twice ten thousand throats A mighty shout rose from the Spanish Fleet. Over the moonlit waves their galleons came Towering, crowding, plunging down the wind In full chase, while the tempter, Drake, laughed low To watch their solid battle-order break And straggle. When once more the golden dawn Dazzled the deep, the labouring galleons lay Scattered by their unequal speed. The wind Veered as the sun rose. Once again the ships Of England lay to windward. Down swooped Drake Where like a mountain the San Marcos heaved Her giant flanks alone, having outsailed Her huge companions. Then the sea-winds blazed With broadsides. Two long hours the sea flamed red All round her. One by one the Titan ships 318 BOOK XII Came surging to her rescue, and met the buffet Of battle-thunders, belching Iron and flame; Nor could they pluck her forth from that red chaos Till great Oquendo hurled his mighty prows Crashing athwart those thunders, and once more Gathered Into unshakeable battle-order The whole Armada raked the reeking seas. Then up the wind the ships of England sheered Once more, and one more day drew to Its close. With little accomplished, half their powder spent, And all the Armada moving as of old, From sky to sky one heaven-wide zone of storm (Though some three galleons out of all their host Laboured woundlly) down the darkening Channel. And all night long on England's guardian heights The beacons reddened, and all the next long day The Impregnable Armada never swerved From Its tremendous path. In vain did Drake, Froblsher, Hawkins, Howard, greatest names In all our great sea-history, hover and dart Like falcons round the mountainous array. Till now, as night fell and they lay abreast Of the Isle of Wight, once more the council flag 319 DRAKE Flew from the little Revenge. With Iron face Thrust close to Howard's, and outstretched Iron arm, Under the stars Drake pointed down the coast Where the red beacons flared. *' The shoals," he hissed, " The shoals from Owers to Splthead and the net Of channels yonder ^ In Portsmouth Roads. At dawn They'll lie to leeward of the Invincible Fleet!" Swiftly, In mighty sweeping lines Drake set Before the council his fierce battle-plan To drive the Armada down upon the banks And utterly shatter it — stroke by well-schemed stroke As he unfolded there his vital plot And touched their dead cold warfare Into life, Where plan before was none, he seemed to tower Above them, clad with the deep night of stars ; And those that late would rival knew him now. In all his great simplicity, their king, One of the gods of battle, England's Drake, 320 BOOK XII A soul that summoned Caesar from his grave. And swept with Alexander o'er the deep. So when the dawn thro' rolling wreaths of cloud Struggled, and all the waves were molten gold, The heart of Spain exulted, for she saw The litde fleet of England cloven in twain As if by some strange discord. A light breeze Blew from the ripening East; and, up against it. Urged by the very madness of defeat, Or so it seemed, one half the British fleet Drew nigh, towed by their boats, to challenge the vast Tempest-winged heaving citadels of Spain, At last to the murderous grapple ; while far away Their other half, led by the flag of Drake, Stood out to sea, as if to escape the doom Of that sheer madness, for the light wind now Could lend them no such wings to hover and swoop As heretofore. Nearer the mad ships came Towed by their boats, till now upon their right To windward loomed the Fleet Invincible With all its thunder-clouds, and on their left To leeward, gleamed the perilous white shoals 321 DRAKE With their long level lightnings under the cliffs Of England, from the green glad garden of Wight To the Owers and Selsea Bill. Right on they came, And suddenly the wrench of thundering cannon Shook the vast hulks that towered above them. Red Flamed the blue sea between. Thunder to thunder Answered, and still the ships of Drake sped out To the open sea. Sidonia saw them go, Furrowing the deep that like a pale-blue shield Lay diamond-dazzled now in the full light. Rich was the omen of that day for Spain, The feast-day of Sidonia's patron-saint I And the priests chanted and the trumpets blew Triumphantly I A universal shout Went skyward from the locust-swarming decks, A shout that rent the golden morning clouds From heaven to menacing heaven, as casde to castle Flew the great battle-signal, and like one range Of moving mountains, those almighty ranks 322 BOOK XII Swept down upon the small forsaken ships ! The lion's brood was in the Imperial nets Of Rome at last. Onward the mountains came With all their golden clouds of sail and flags Like streaming cataracts ; all their glorious chasms And glittering steeps, echoing, re-echoing, Calling, answering, as with the herald winds That blow the golden trumpets of the morning From Skiddaw to Helvellyn. In the midst The great San Martin surged with heaven-wide press Of proudly billowing sail; and yet once more Slowly, solemnly, like another dawn Up to her mast-head soared in thunderous gold The sacred standard of their last crusade; While round a hundred prows that heaved thro' heaven Like granite cliffs, their black wet shining flanks, And swept like moving promontories, rolled The splendid long-drawn thunders of the foam. And flashed the untamed white lightnings of the sea Back to a morn unhalyarded of man, 323 DRAKE Back to the unleashed sun and blazoned clouds And azure sky — the unfettered flag of God. Like one huge moving coast-line on they came Crashing, and closed the ships of England round With one fierce crescent of thunder and sweeping flame, One crimson scythe of Death, whose long sweep drowned The eternal ocean with its mighty sound. From heaven to heaven, one roar, one glitter of doom. While out to the sea-line's blue remotest bound The ships of Drake still fled, and the red fume Of battle thickened and shrouded shoal and sea with gloom. The distant sea, the close white menacing shoals Are shrouded ! And the lion's brood fight on ! And now death's very midnight round them rolls; Rent is the flag that late so proudly shone: The red decks reel, and their last hope seems gone! Round them they still keep clear one ring of sea: It narrows; but the lion's brood fight on, Ungrappled still, still fearless and still free, While the white menacing shoals creep slowly out to lee. 324 BOOK XII Now through the red rents of each fire-cleft cloud, High o'er the British blood-greased decks flash out Thousands of swarthy faces, crowd on crowd Surging, with one tremendous hurricane shout On, to the grapple! and still the grim redoubt Of the oaken bulwarks rolls them back again, As buffeted waves that shatter in the furious bout When cannonading cliffs meet the full main And hurl it back in smoke, — so Britain hurls back Spain ; Hurls her back, only to see her return. Darkening the heavens with billow on billow of sail: Round that huge storm the waves like lava burn, The daylight withers, and the sea-winds fail! Seamen of England, what shall now avail Your naked arms? Before those blasts of doom The sun is quenched, the very sea-waves quail: High overhead their triumphing thousands loom. When hark! what low deep guns to windward suddenly boom? What low deep strange new thunders far away Respond to the triumphant shout of Spain? Is it the wind that shakes their giant array? 325 DRAKE Is it the deep wrath of the rising main? Is It — El Draque f El Draque! Ay, shout again, His thunders burst upon your windward flanks; The shoals creep out to leeward! Is it plain At last, what earthquake heaves your herded ranks Huddled in huge dismay tow'rds those white foam- swept banks? Plain, It was plain at last, what cunning lured, What courage held them over the jaws o* the pit, Till Drake could hurl them down. The little ships Of Howard and Frobisher, towed by their boats, Slipped away In the smoke, while out at sea Drake, with a gale of wind behind him, crashed Volley on volley into the helpless rear Of Spain and drove It down, huddling the whole Invincible Fleet together upon the verge Of doom. One awful surge of stormy wrath Heaved thro' the struggling citadels of Spain. From East to West their desperate signal flew. And like a drove of bullocks, with the foam Flecking their giant sides, they staggered and swerved, 326 BOOK XII Careening tow'rds the shallows as they turned, Then in one wild stampede of sheer dismay Rushed, tacking seaward, while the grey sea plain Smoked round them, and the cannonades of Drake Raked their wild flight; and their crusading flag, Tangled in one black maze of crashing spars, Whirled downward like the pride of Lucifer From heaven to hell. Out towVds the coasts of France They plunged, narrowly weathering the Ower banks ; Then, once again, they formed in ranks compact, Roundels impregnable, wrathfully bent at last Never to swerve again from their huge path And solid end — to join with Parma's host. And hurl the whole of Europe on our isle. Another day was gone, much powder spent; And, while Lord Howard exulted and conferred Knighthoods on his brave seamen, Drake alone Knew that his mighty plan, in spite of all, Had failed, — knew that wellnigh his last great chance iWas lost of wrecking the Spaniards ere they joined Z^7 DRAKE Parma. The night went by, and the next day, With scarce a visible scar the Invincible Fleet Drew onward towVds its goal, unshakeable now In that grim battle-order. Beacons flared Along the British coast, and pikes flashed out All night, and a strange dread began to grip The heart of England, as it seemed the might Of seamen most renowned in all the world Checked not that huge advance. Yet at the heart Of Spain no less there clung a vampire fear And strange foreboding, as the next day passed Quietly, and behind her all day long The shadowy ships of Drake stood on her trail Quietly, patiently, as death or doom, Unswerving and implacable. While the sun Sank thro' long crimson fringes on that eve. The fleets were passing Calais, and the wind Blew fair behind them. A strange impulse seized Spain to shake off those bloodhounds from her trail, And suddenly the whole Invincible Fleet Anchored, in hope the following wind would bear 328 BOOK XII The ships of England past and carry them down To leeward. But their grim Insistent watch Was ready; and though their van had wellnigh crashed Into the rear of Spain, in the golden dusic, They, too, a cannon-shot away, at once Anchored, to windward still. Quietly heaved The golden sea in that tremendous hour Fraught with the fate of Europe and mankind, As yet once more the flag of council flew, And Hawkins, Howard, Froblsher, and Drake Gathered together upon the little Revenge, While like a triumphing fire the news was borne To Spain, already, that the Invincible Fleet Had reached Its end, ay, and " that great black dog Sir Francis Drake ** was writhing now in chains Beneath the torturer's hands. High on his poop He stood, a granite rock, above the throng Of captains, there amid the breaking waves Of clashing thought and swift opinion. Silent, gazing where now the cool fresh wind 329 DRAKE Blew steadily up the terrible North Sea Which rolled under the clouds Into a gloom Unfathomable. Once only his lips moved Half-consclously, breathing those mighty words, The clouds His chariot/ Then, suddenly, he turned And looked upon the little flock of ships That followed on the fleet of England, sloops Helpless in fight. These, manned by the brave zeal Of many a noble house, from hour to hour Had plunged out from the coast to join his flag. " Better if they had brought us powder and food Than sought to join us thus," he had growled; but now " Lord God," he cried aloud, " they'll light our road To victory yet I " And in great sweeping strokes Once more he drew his mighty battle-plan Before the captains. In the thickening gloom They stared at his grim face as at a man Risen from hell, with all the powers of hell At his command, — a face tempered like steel 330 BOOK XII In the everlasting furnaces, a rock Of adamant, while with a voice that blent With the ebb and flow of the everlasting sea He spake, and at the low deep menacing words Monotonous with the unconquerable Passion and level strength of his great soul They shuddered; for the man seemed more than man, And from his iron lips resounded doom As from the lips of cannon — doom to Spain, Inevitable, unconquerable doom. And through that mighty host of Spain there crept Cold winds of fear, as to the darkening sky- Once more from lips of kneeling thousands swept The vespers of an Empire — one vast cry, Salve Regina! God, what wild reply Hissed from the clouds in that dark hour of dreams? Ave Maria, those about to die Salute thee! See, what ghostly pageant streams Above them ? What thin hands point down like pale moonbeams? Thick as the ghosts that Dante saw in hell Whirled on the blast thro' boundless leagues of pain, 2>Z^ DRAKE Thick, thick as wind-blown leaves innumerable, In the Inquisition's yellow robes her slain And tortured thousands, dense as the red rain That wellnigh quenched her fires, went hissing by With twisted shapes, raw from the racks of Spain, Salve Regina! — rushing thro' the sky, And pale hands pointing down and lips that mocked her cry. Ten thousand times ten thousand! — what are these That are arrayed in yellow robes and sweep Between your prayers and God like phantom seas Prophesying over your masts? Could Rome not keep The keys? Who loosed these dead to break your sleep? Salve Regina, cry, yea, cry aloud, Ave Maria! Ye have sown: shall ye not reap? Salve Regina! Christ, what fiery cloud Suddenly rolls to windward, high o'er mast and shroud?, Are hell-gates burst at last? For the black deep To windward burns with streaming crimson fires! Over the wild strange waves, they shudder and creep Nearer — strange smoke-wreathed masts and spars, red spires BOOK XII And blazing hulks, vast roaring blood-red pyres, Fierce as the flames ye fed with flesh of men Amid the Imperial pomp and chanting choirs Of Alva — from El Draque's red hand again Sweep the wild fire-shlps down upon the Fleet of Spain. Onward before the freshening wind they come Full fraught with all the terrors, all the bale That flamed so long for the delight of Rome, The shrieking fires that struck the sunlight pale. The avenging fires at last! Now what avail Your thousand ranks of cannon ? Swift, cut free. Cut your scorched cables! Cry, reel backward, quail, Crash your huge huddled ranks together, flee! Behind you roars the fire, before — the dark North Sea! Dawn, everlasting and omnipotent Dawn rolled in crimson o'er the spar-strewn waves, As the last trumpet shall in thunder roll O'er heaven and earth and ocean. Far away, The ships of Spain, great ragged piles of gloom And shaggy splendour, leaning to the North Like sun-shot clouds confused, or rent apart In scattered squadrons, furiously plunged, 333 DRAKE Burying their mighty prows i* the broad grey rush Of smoking billowy hills, or heaving high Their giant bowsprits to the wandering heavens, Labouring in vain to return, struggling to lock Their far-flung ranks anew, but drifting still To leeward, driven by the ever-increasing storm Straight for the dark North Sea. Hard by there lurched One gorgeous galleon on the ravening shoals, Feeding the white maw of the famished waves With gold and purple webs from kingly looms And spilth of world-wide empires. Howard, still Planning to pluck the Armada plume by plume. Swooped down upon that prey and swiftly engaged Her desperate guns ; while Drake, our ocean king. Knowing the full worth of that doom-fraught hour, Glanced neither to the left nor right, but stood High on his poop, with calm implacable face Gazing as into eternity, and steered The crowded glory of his dawn-flushed sails In superb onset, straight for the great fleet Invincible ; and after him the main Of England's fleet, knowing its captain now, 334 BOOK XII Followed, and with them rushed — from sky to sky One glittering charge of wrath — the storm's white waves, The twenty thousand foaming chariots Of God None but the everlasting voice Of him who fought at Salamis might sing The fight of that dread Sabbath. Not mankind Waged it alone. War waged in heaven that day, Where Michael and his angels drave once more The hosts of darkness ruining down the abyss Of chaos. Light against darkness, Liberty Against all dark old despotism, unsheathed The sword in that great hour. Behind the strife Of men embattled deeps beyond all thought Moved in their awful panoply, as move Silent, invisible, swift, under the clash Of waves and flash of foam, huge ocean glooms And vast reserves of inappellable power. The bowsprits ranked on either fore-front seemed But spear-heads of those dread antagonists Invisible: the shuddering sails of Spain Dusk with the shadow of death, the sunward sails 33S DRAKE Of England full-fraught with the breath of God. Onward the ships of England and God's waves Triumphantly charged, glittering companions, And poured their thunders on the extreme right Of Spain, whose giant galleons as they lurched Heavily to the roughening sea and wind With all their grinding, wrenching cannon, worked On rolling platforms by the helpless hands Of twenty thousand soldiers, without skill In stormy seas, rent the Indifferent sky Or tore the black troughs of the swirling deep In vain, while volley on volley of flame and iron Burst thro' their four-foot beams, fierce raking blasts From ships that came and went on wings of the wind All round their mangled bulk, scarce a pike's thrust Away, sweeping their decks from stem to stern (Between the rush and roar of the great green waves) With crimson death, rending their timbered towns And populous floating streets Into wild squares Of slaughter and devastation ; driving them down, BOOK XII Huddled on their own centre, cities of shame And havoc, in fiery forests of tangled wrath, With hurricanes of huge masts and swarming spars And multitudinous decks that heaved and sank Like earthquake-smitten palaces, when doom Comes, with one stride, across the pomp of kings. All round them shouted the everlasting sea, Burst in white thunders on the streaming poops And blinded fifty thousand eyes with spray. Once, as a gorgeous galleon, drenched with blood Began to founder and settle, a British captain Called from his bulwarks, bidding her fierce crew Surrender and come aboard Straight through the heart A hundred muskets answered that appeal. Sink or destroy/ The deadly signal flew From mast to mast of England. Once, twice, thrice, A huge sea-castle heaved her haggled bulk Heavenward, and with a cry that rent the heavens From all her crowded decks, and one deep roar As of a cloven world or the dark surge Of chaos yawning, sank: the swirling slopes 327 DRAKE Of the sweeping billowy hills for a moment swarmed With struggling insect-men, sprinkling the foam With tossing arms; then the indifferent sea Rolled Its grey smoking waves across the place Where they had been. Here a great galleasse poured Red rivers through her scuppers and torn flanks, And there a galleon, wrapped In creeping fire, Suddenly like a vast volcano split Asunder, and o'er the vomiting sulphurous clouds And spouting spread of crimson, flying spars And heads torn from their trunks and scattered limbs Leapt, hideous gouts of death, against the glare. Hardly the thrust of a pike away, the ships Of England flashed and swerved, till in one mass Of thunder-blasted splendour and shuddering gloom Those gorgeous floating citadels huddled and shrank Their towers, and all the glory of dawn that rolled And burned along the tempest of their banners 338 BOOK XII Withered, as on a murderer's face the light Withers before the accuser. All their proud Castles and towers and heaven-wide clouds of sail Shrank to a darkening horror, like the heart Of Evil, plucked from midnight's fiercest gloom, With all its curses quivering and alive; A horror of wild masts and tangled spars. Like some great kraken with a thousand arms Torn from the filthiest cavern of the deep, Writhing, and spewing forth its venomous fumes On every side. Sink or destroy! — all day The deadly signal flew; and ever the sea Swelled higher, and the flashes of the foam Broadened and leapt and spread as the wild white fire That flourishes with the wind; and ever the storm Drave the grim battle onward to the wild Menace of the dark North Sea. At set of sun, Even as below the sea-line the broad disc Sank like a red-hot cannon-ball through scurf Of seething molten lead, the Santa Maria Uttering one cry that split the heart of heaven Went down with all hands, roaring into the dark. 339 DRAKE Hardly five rounds of shot were left to Drake ! Gun after gun fell silent, as the night Deepened — *' Yet we must follow them to the North," He cried, " or they'll return yet to shake hands With Parma ! Come, we'll put a brag upon it, And hunt them onward as we lacked for nought ! " So, when across the swinging smoking seas, Grey and splendid and terrible broke the day Once more, the flying Invincible fleet beheld Upon their weather-beam, and dogging them Like their own shadow, the dark ships of Drake, Unswerving and implacable. Ever the wind And sea increased; till now the heaving deep Swelled all round them into sulky hills And rolling mountains, whose majestic crests. Like wild white flames far blown and savagely flickering, Swept thro' the clouds; and, on their vanishing slopes, Past the pursuing fleet began to swirl Scores of horses and mules, drowning or drowned, Cast overboard to lighten the wild flight 340 BOOK XII Of Spain, and save her water-casks, a trail Telling of utmost fear. And ever the storm Roared louder across the leagues of rioting sea. Driving her onward like a mighty stag Chased by the wolves. Off the dark Firth of Forth At last, Drake signalled and lay head to wind. Watching. "The chariots of God are twenty thousand," He muttered, as, for a moment close at hand. Caught in some league-wide whirlpool of the sea. The mighty galleons crowded and towered and plunged Above him on the huge overhanging billows. As if to crash down on his decks; the next, A mile of ravening sea had swept between Each of those wind-whipt straws and they were gone. With all their tiny shrivelling scrolls of sail, Through roaring deserts of embattled death, Where like a hundred thousand chariots charged With lightnings and with thunders, the great deep Hurled them away to the North. From sky to sky 341 DRAKE One blanching bursting storm of Infinite seas Followed them, broad white cataracts, hills that grasped With struggling Titan hands at reeling heavens, And roared their doom-fraught greetings from Cape Wrath Round to the Bloody Foreland. There should the yeast Of foam receive the purple of many kings, And the grim gulfs devour the blood-bought gold Of Aztecs and of Incas, and the reefs, League after league, bristle with mangled spars, And all along their coast the murderous kerns Of Catholic Ireland strip the gorgeous silks And chains and jewel-encrusted crucifixes From thousands dead, and slaughter thousands more With gallow-glass axes as they blindly crept Forth from the surf and jagged rocks to seek Pity of their own creed. To meet that doom Drake watched their sails go shrivelling, till the last 342 BOOK XII Flicker of spars vanished as a skeleton leaf Upon the blasts of winter, and there was nought But one wide wilderness of splendour and gloom Under the northern clouds. " Not unto us," Cried Drake, " not unto us — ^but unto Him Who made the sea, belongs our England now ! Pray God that heart and mind and soul we prove Worthy among the nations of this hour And this great victory, whose ocean fame Shall wash the world with thunder till that day When there is no more sea, and the strong cliffs Pass like a smoke, and the last peal of It Sounds thro' the trumpet." So, with close-hauled sails. Over the rolling triumph of the deep. Lifting their hearts to heaven, they turned back home. THE END 343 LBJi.'?' I LIBRARY OF CONGRESS II ' II 014 707 434 7 •?)i'!i ;,.{>: