The Pirate Queen (42 page)

Meanwhile, Mendoza had been expelled to Paris in 1582, after the first Throckmorton affair, and had instigated this second and far more dangerous plot in 1583.
¹⁷
The assassination plots translated into draconian measures by the crown, and a waning willingness on the part of Catholics to poke their heads above the metaphorical parapet of English politics for any risky venture.

Finally, and mysteriously, Walsingham’s stepson, Christopher Carleill, seemed to redeem the situation somewhat for Gilbert. He had interested the city of Bristol in Gilbert’s plans, and in the spring of 1583, the Bristol merchants agreed to give 1,000 marks ($153,550 or £83,000 today) and a bark to be captained by Carleill.

Even better news was yet to come. Walter Raleigh had somehow stepped forward from the mass of young men itching to grab the queen’s attention at court. He not only grabbed her attention, but he retained it. Since Gilbert was the “new favorite’s” brother, the voyage now seemed to have a royal seal of approval.

After all the delays, a small fleet of five vessels set sail at last. On this second voyage, Gilbert commanded the admiral ship, the
Delight
(120 tons), that was part-owned by William Winter and his brother John. Other ships in the fleet were the
Golden Hind
(40 tons), owned
and captained by Edward Hayes; Raleigh’s
Bark Ralegh
(200 tons); the
Swallow
(40 tons), belonging to a Scottish merchant; and the
Squirrel.
The voyage of 1583 was taken for one reason only: to retain Gilbert’s six-year patent and thus prevent its expiry. But this voyage, too, to recoin Elizabeth’s own words, was of “little hap.” Within two days, the
Bark Ralegh
had returned to Plymouth, presumably due to disease. The
Swallow
split off from the rest of the fleet during their seven-week voyage to Newfoundland, in search of plunder. Yet somehow the fleet regrouped in St. John’s harbor, where, despite the presence of thirty-six other ships with Spanish, Portuguese, and French flags hoisted proudly aloft their mainmasts, Gilbert claimed the land for the queen with great ceremony.

Yet, in their two weeks at St. John’s prospecting for gold, disease spread like a brushfire among the men. So many had died and others were too ill to work that Gilbert was reluctantly compelled to order the
Swallow
to return to England with the sick and dying. The few who weren’t sick refused to carry on, and Gilbert knew he was beaten. He claimed that the following spring he would send out two new fleets, one for the north of America, and the other for the south, and that “Her Majesty will be so gracious, to lend me 10,000 pounds.”
¹⁸

Then in a storm near Cape Breton Island, the
Delight
was shipwrecked. Eighty of her crew were killed, and, of the twenty survivors, only a handful ever saw England again. Gilbert was aboard the
Squirrel
, and on Monday, September 9, “the frigate [the
Squirrel
] being ahead of us…suddenly her lights were out, whereof as it were in a moment, we lost sight, and withal our watch cried, the General was cast away, which was too true.”
¹⁹

The first patent granted for North America had ended in fiasco. Humphrey Gilbert and his youngest brother, Walter Raleigh, had thought of their colonization schemes as a good means to injure Spain and enrich themselves and England. Carleill, and probably Peckham, until the issue of recusancy fines loomed large again, viewed it as an economically sound colonial enterprise. None gave any thought to the indigenous population of America. And Elizabeth herself thought of it as a sideshow to the pressing requirements for containing Spain, and getting more gold quickly.

Still, Walter Raleigh would persuade his queen that America would be worth another try.

30. The Defeats of 1582–84

Tell me what has become of Drake and what you hear of arming of ships…. It is most important that I should know all this.

—
PHILIP II TO BERNARDINO DE MENDOZA

D
rake had made good use of his time since he returned from his around-the-world voyage. He had become mayor of Plymouth in 1581 and began a major infrastructure project to bring a fresh water supply to the town. The queen and Leicester had ensured that he received just reward and standing for his phenomenal accomplishment that had to remain a state secret, due to its very nature. A proposal was put forward by Leicester that Drake should head a company as its life governor to search for new territories, and to spearhead a fruitful trading relationship with the Moluccas. Most important for Sir Francis, he would never again sail as a rover. From 1580 onward, he would always have the queen’s commission.

Drake was the most famous, most feared mariner in the world. Everyone everywhere wanted to know him. And as the most accomplished seaman of his day he was nicknamed “The Fortunate” by popular acclaim. Even royalty sought Drake out, and Antonio de Crato, the dethroned king of Portugal, was no exception. Where Drake had been dubbed “The Fortunate,” Antonio was called “The Determined.” It was Antonio’s determination, his theft of the Portuguese crown jewels, and his ability to embroil men and women of greatness in his affairs that prevents him from being a mere footnote in history.

Antonio, hearing of Drake’s successes, and counting on the long-standing friendship of Portugal and England, entrusted much of the Portuguese crown jewels in pawn to Elizabeth to try to win back his kingdom through the back door of the Azores. He should have known better than to believe that Elizabeth would involve herself in
certain war with Spain. After all, she had by and large ignored his earlier plea for help when Spain overran the Portuguese mainland in 1580.
¹

But Drake was of another mind altogether. He carried grudges for his lifetime. Philip had invaded sovereign English territory in 1580 through the papal troops who ended up massacred on the southwest coast of Ireland at Smerwick. Any action he might take with or on behalf of Antonio would be justifiable retaliation for that act of war by Spain. Antonio’s plan was to have a combined English and French fleet sailing under Antonio’s flag to Terceira in the Azores, with Drake as his general. The plan was discussed at the highest levels of government with Leicester, Walsingham, Hawkins, Winter, and with the ailing Lord Admiral Clinton. Frobisher and Edward Fenton were named by the politicians as possible vice admirals for Drake. The financial deal was that the English would receive 75 percent of the Spanish prizes, and keep any Portuguese ships that refused allegiance to Antonio de Crato.
²
Naturally privileged trading status would also be on offer to England if they succeeded.

Still, to put out to sea without the queen’s commission, the Privy Council would need to agree to these terms. Elizabeth and Burghley quickly vetoed Antonio’s demand that the fleet would also need to intervene on mainland Portugal in the event that “the Kingdom of Portugal needs succouring.” From that moment on, the proposed voyage was doomed. Munster was still in rebellion, and Elizabeth rightly feared that Philip might send more troops to her rebellious province Ireland in retaliation for any overt support for Antonio’s cause. The fact that she had already financed Anjou’s rule in the Low Countries conveniently escaped her view. A Portuguese invasion was too risky a business for her. Voyages of exploration, while treacherous for their mariners, could always be disowned. And nothing could prevent her from obfuscating about her involvement in the future as she had done so adeptly in the past.

Yet Drake believed that part of the plan might still be worth resurrecting. If the English fleet accompanied Antonio back to the Azores, and waited there to intercept the Spanish flota on its return, there would be no need to attack the West Indies later. Leicester and Walsingham agreed that money, or, more precisely, the lack of it, was the King of Spain’s weak point. Any attack on his treasure trains
would wound Philip more deeply than any other exploit they could undertake. His incessant wars, the costs of subduing the rebellious Dutch, the annexation of Portugal, had meant that his solvency relied increasingly on every single treasure ship making a safe return to the Casa in Seville.

The plan made sense, but all they could hope for from a watchful queen who had just been told that there was yet another plot against her life (the second Throckmorton plot) was an “indirect” participation. Even then Elizabeth made England’s involvement reliant on the joining in, too. If Catherine de’ Medici, who had also been a claimant to the Portuguese throne, would not agree, then neither would the Queen of England. Drake, Hawkins, and Leicester were called to meet with Burghley, where the lord treasurer laid down clearly the queen’s objections. The mission, in its present form, would need to be scuttled. Unbeknownst to them at the time, Philip had written to Mendoza only a week earlier that any voyage sailing from England undertaken on behalf of Antonio would be considered an act of war.

Yet Drake, ever the man of action, appealed to Leicester for another mission—a braver and more dangerous one, but one that would bring them all great wealth. Drake had pushed the door ajar to the East in his dealings with Babu, and now proposed a trading mission to the East Indies. Leicester, Walsingham, Hatton, Christopher Carleill, and Lord Admiral Lincoln agreed to the idea along with the Muscovy Company and adventurers like Frobisher. Drake himself invested £666 13s. 4d. ($211,805 or £114,489 today). As the voyage’s inspiration and advisor, not to mention the only man who had actually sailed those seas, Drake was instrumental in the nitty-gritty of navigation, mapping out the best watering holes, planning how to victual the ship (including the provision of fresh fruit) and determining how to keep the ships “sweet smelling” to preserve health on board. More than a dozen of his own men agreed to join the expedition. Even Drake’s young cousin, John, would sail in the 40-ton
Bark Francis
belonging to Sir Francis.

While the planning was meticulous by the standards of the day, the ultimate choice of captain was a disaster. Martin Frobisher, somehow relatively unscathed from the Northwest Passage debacle,
was mooted as the expedition’s general. But Drake, at least, had the foresight to veto his selection on the grounds that he was too cantankerous a man to command a voyage that required both naval cunning and diplomatic prowess. Instead, Edward Fenton proposed himself as a replacement for Frobisher. Frobisher was more senior, but Drake’s earlier point having been taken meant that Fenton eventually had himself accepted by the gentlemen adventurers. Fenton’s vice admiral was the seasoned veteran Captain Luke Ward. The fact that Drake had been outvoted in the Council on these choices mattered little at the end of the day. He remained confident that he could inspire and educate the commanders adequately for the task that lay ahead, especially since many of his own highly skilled men were also participating.

When Drake blew in to Plymouth to give his final encouragement to the fleet, he saw immediately that the ships were light on tackle, and he ordered more to be delivered straightaway to the admiral with his compliments, along with some wine. Drake had been promoted to a position of standing and power, but there were—at least on this voyage—no more “Drakes” to replace his ingenuity, bravado, and flair in mastering the sea.

Fenton, who had proved himself a soldier of fortune only on land, was quite simply not up to the task. Virtually all others taking part in the expedition were better sailors and knew the sea better than he. His motivation for putting himself forward as commander of the fleet was to “get rich quick” and to advance to the place that Drake already occupied. The result was disastrous. In the vast expanse of the Atlantic Ocean, Fenton became alienated from his men and reality. As the Atlantic winds became unfavorable for sailing around the Cape of Good Hope, as originally planned, his professional mariners demanded that Fenton toss away his instructions and make for the Strait of Magellan to plunder Peru as Sir Francis had done. Powerless to resist, Fenton complied but not without ample bluster. Only some of Fenton’s fleet reached the Brazilian coast, where they made a frenzied attack on three Spanish ships, sinking one. Trade was refused to them by everyone they encountered, and they were forced to return home to England none the richer, and none the wiser. Fenton, by now leading an uncontrolled crew,
demanded that they take the island of St. Helena, where he would be crowned “king,” and from which they would plunder all ships passing to and from the Cape of Good Hope. The loneliness of command and the sea coupled with the demands of the voyage had made him lose the touchstones that grounded all men to their daily life ashore. Doubtless, Fenton had experienced some sort of mental breakdown.

By the time the fleet returned to England in June 1583—thirteen months after sailing—Fenton had lost most of his men and ships. He discovered that his vice admiral, Luke Ward, had reached England before him and had reported to the backers, and therefore the better part of the Privy Council, about Fenton’s wanting to become “King of St. Helena.” When his crazed attack against William Hawkins became common currency, Fenton was dealt with judiciously and told to retire to obscurity or face the consequences. Sadly, Sir Francis’s young cousin, John Drake, had been captured near the River Plate, where the
Bark Francis
was shipwrecked and never returned to England.
³

This was the nadir of the English maritime expansion. To make matters worse, Sir John Hawkins and Sir William Winter were at each other’s throats, each claiming that the other was lining his pockets and that other naval officials were misappropriating funds. When Hawkins complained to Burghley that “the officers have taken courage and hardness to oppose themselves against me…divers [sic] matters have been omitted, delayed and hindered by many subtle practises,” the queen ordered Burghley to set up a commission to investigate. The five commissioners were Lord Howard of Effingham (a Catholic and lord chamberlain at the time), the Earl of Lincoln (lord admiral), Sir Walter Mildmay, Sir Francis Walsingham, and, of course Burghley himself.
⁴
Four members of the Navy Board were to assist them in their deliberations: William Winter, surveyor of the ships; John Hawkins, treasurer; William Borough, clerk of ships; and William Holstocke, comptroller of ships. The master shipwrights, Peter Pett and Matthew Baker, were also called upon to assist the commissioners in their inquiries.