<h3> CHAPTER XIX </h3>
<p>'A very notable piece of service, sir,' said Sergeant
Culverin to me the same afternoon, as we sat resting
our weary limbs after a very excellent meal, which we
made from hens, fruit, and the other good things on the
island.</p>
<p>'So it seems to me, Sergeant,' said I, 'though you
know I have no experience of such matters; but how
goes the general now?'</p>
<p>'As well as we could wish,' answered the Sergeant.
''Tis a hurt wants no Galen or Paracelsus to its
mending. Take that of me, sir; I have seen these things,
and know. It is but a clean, pretty flesh-wound, and
no harm done save the letting of so much blood, which
I never saw lost in so large a measure and death kept
off. A very tall man our general, sir, a very tall man.'</p>
<p>'I am heartily glad to hear you say so, Sergeant,'
I said, being ever willing to humour him for the great
service he had done me. 'You have been acquainted
with great captains in the Emperor's service, and know
one when you see him.'</p>
<p>'Indeed, sir, I do,' returned Culverin, very pleased:
'and I may tell you, at a word, he is one,—a very
Gonsalvo, sir. Yet I marvel how he came by such skill in
dispositions, being wholly unlearned in the very
rudiments of war. Why, sir, I spake to him at Port
Pheasant concerning our fort of timber, and, believe
me, he knew not the difference betwixt counterfort and
cavaliero, or counterscarp and argine. And as for
horsemanship, he has no more practice or contemplation
of it than his cook's boy; and yet a notable soldier!'</p>
<p>'It is as you say, Sergeant,' I answered; 'and we
must the more honour him that, being his own master,
he is able by such excellent practice to show how
soldierly have been his precepts; and I grieve sorely
that his skill and valour has met with no reward
to-day.'</p>
<p>'No reward?' said Culverin. 'Has your worship
seen the sail that lies before the general's bower, where
is the common-stick?'</p>
<p>'No, Sergeant; what do you mean?'</p>
<p>''Tis naught; and yet there are some indifferent
foolish toys gathered there that will repay some of the
blood that was spilt.'</p>
<p>'Why, how is this, Sergeant? Did not the general
charge that no man should load himself save with what
came from the Treasure-House.'</p>
<p>'True, sir, so he did; but, as I was saying, saving his
most excellent dispositions, he is unlearned in things
warlike. If a man make war, look you, he must make
it according to the honoured, ancient, universal customs
and discipline of war, whereof the honest pillaging of a
captured town is one; wherefore I made bold of my
bitter experience to supply our general's sweet
ignorance, and lead some of the lads, when occasion was,
to certain indifferent well-furnished houses. If some
thereafter made free with certain trifling bars of silver
from the governor's house it was by no furthering of
mine. All I did was out of niceness for our general's
honour. What think you those Spanish <i>cabaleros</i> would
have thought of him if, when they had returned, they
had found their houses unplundered? I warrant you,
sir, they would have been sore grieved in their soldiership
to think that a man who could deliver an assault so
boldly against all their force and discipline was ignorant
of the most common and ancient usage of the wars.'</p>
<p>Here one came to summon me to the general's
presence, so I heard no more, though I found afterwards
it was even as the Sergeant said, and that, far from
coming out of the town empty handed as I thought,
almost every man had carried off something, which all
being gathered in the common store according to custom,
made a show which was no little content to us.</p>
<p>Indeed, I think we were all very merry that afternoon,
not only as seeing how easily we had captured
the town, which bred in us no less courage for further
attempts than hope of their success, but also because
we had brought off our general safely, in comparison
with which gain we held our loss of the gold is nothing,
the more so as his hurt proved of no great account;
nor was any other of our company more than slightly
wounded, save our trumpeter, who had been slain on
the spot.</p>
<p>Thus we were in a gentle mood to receive the envoy
from Nombre de Dios, which was the occasion of the
general's summons to me. I found Frank with a
cheerful countenance, seated in a kind of hammock,
which the mariners had made for him from a piece of
sail-cloth. His officers and gentlemen stood about him,
to receive the envoy with as much state as we might,
whereby, having brushed the dust from our clothes and
made what shift we could, we displayed a tolerable front.</p>
<p>Mr. Oxenham and Harry were sent to conduct the
Spaniard to the presence, and we saw them return with
the most point-device little gentleman I ever beheld.
He was by his dress a captain of foot, and by his
delicate and well-guarded complexion but late come
out of Spain. His little black moustache was
disciplined to the nicety of a hair, and his whole dress no
less brilliant than his countenance, nor more fantastic
than his bearing.</p>
<p>He approached, making legs very sweetly to us all,
and a profound congee to our general, which we
returned as decently as we might. After an offering of
commendations, so stuffed with unheard-of conceits as I
can never remember again, he told us the occasion of
his coming.</p>
<p>'Of my mere goodwill, and as it were for my own
unworthy honour, most admirable <i>cabaleros</i>,' said he,
with an infinity of conceited gestures, 'I have conveyed
myself festinately hither to your most honourable
presence, moved thereto by the wholesome desire, with
which my eyes were an hungered, to behold, view,
regard, and contemplate the most redoubtable captain
and his heroical gentlemen who have attempted so
great and incredible a matter with so few, paltry, and
inconsiderable valiant numbers; being more especially
moved thereto when it was discovered by the most
excellent shooting of your honourable arrows that you
were Englishmen, and no Frenchmen as we apprehended,
seeing that now we knew our foe would hold themselves
after the ancient gentle discipline of the wars,
and be content with an honourable courteous pillage of
our treasure, instead of seeking vulgar and bloody cruelty
upon our persons; and being most especially moved
thereto because his excellency, our honourable governor,
being assured that you were gentlemen Englishmen and
no pirate French, gladly consented to my coming; and
lastly, being most singularly especially moved thereto,
because his excellency, having been informed by certain
townsmen that they knew your honourable captain,
having at divers times been most courteously pillaged
and kindly used by him these two years past, charged
me to inquire as follows:</p>
<p>'<i>Imprimis</i>. Whether your honourable captain be the
valiant Captain Drake or not?</p>
<p>'<i>Item</i>. Whether your arrows, which have wounded
many of our men, be poisoned or not?</p>
<p>'<i>Item</i>. How the said wounds may be cured?</p>
<p>'<i>Item</i>. What victuals or other necessaries you desire
for the speeding of your voyage hence, which his
excellency desires to furnish you withal, as far as he dare,
having regard to his commission.'</p>
<p>This and a very flood more of such-like desperate
intemperance of phrasing he graciously voided upon us,
the writing whereof, were I able to set it down, would
devour more paper than I could ever find digestion for.
When he was at a halt at last Frank sat up in his chair
and, after a little pause, answered him thus courteously
but very curt, because of his weakness, no less than his
distaste for Spaniards.</p>
<p>'I thank you for your courtesy,' said he, 'and I pray
you, after you have partaken of a poor supper at our
hands, to return to his excellency with my most
honourable commendations, and inform him thus: I am the
same Drake he means. It is never my manner to
poison my arrows. The said wounds may be cured
with ordinary surgery. And as for victuals, we have
already more than enough out of the abundance which
he has already so hospitably provided us withal in this
Island of <i>Bastimentos</i>; while for necessaries, I want for
none, save the special commodity which his country
yields. Whereof not yet having enough to content
myself and my company, I must unwillingly beseech
his excellency to be at the pain of holding open his
eyes for a space; since before I depart, if God lend me
life and leave, I mean to reap some of your harvest,
which you get out of the ground and send into Spain
to trouble all the earth!'</p>
<p>The little gallant seemed a good deal taken aback
at this unlooked-for answer, but, recovering himself,
promised to convey it to the governor treasured in the
inmost sanctuary of his bosom.</p>
<p>'And, if I may without offence move such a question,'
he ended by saying, 'what should be the honourable
cause of your worthy departing (seeing what are your
sweet desires) from a town where is above 360 tons of
silver ready for the Plate Fleet, and much more gold in
value in iron chests in the King's Treasure-House?'</p>
<p>'Because,' said Harry, whom Frank motioned to
speak, 'our captain was wounded, and we value his life
beyond all the gold in the Indies.'</p>
<p>'Then, most valiant <i>cabaleros</i>,' answered our pouncet-box,
'give me leave to say that, as I am a gentleman,
the pre-eminent excellence of your reason in departing
is hardly overbalanced by your unmeasured courage in
attempting.'</p>
<p>With that we fell to supper, during which we did all
honour to our guest; all of us, but Frank, being much
taken with his fantastic courtesy and pretty humours.
Harry and Mr. Oxenham were particularly moved to
him, and he to them, so that all supper-time they vied
with each other in the extravagance of their compliments,
till I thought the little gallant could swallow no more.</p>
<p>When he took his leave at last our captain entreated
him very courteously, and bestowed certain gifts as most
likely to content him. So we conducted him to his
boat to make our farewells.</p>
<p>'I protest, <i>cabaleros</i>,' said he, a little flushed with a
good share of the contents of our prize, 'I protest I
have never been so honoured of any in my life.'</p>
<p>'And give me leave to say,' answered Harry, 'I have
never seen an embassy so admirably discharged.'</p>
<p>'I kiss your hands,' said the Don, 'and, as I am a
gentleman, shall joy no more, till I have the felicity of
crossing rapiers with you upon your next attempt.'</p>
<p>'Till then, by my soul's honour,' returned Harry, 'I,
too, die; nor could I conceive greater honour than to
colour my blade with such courtly blood as your
excellency's.'</p>
<p>'Nay, sir, I protest, as I am a gentleman, the honour
would be mine. I could desire no higher distinction
than to feel your point between these unworthy ribs.'</p>
<p>'I pray heaven,' said Mr. Oxenham, 'your joy come
not so soon as to prevent my poor flesh first kissing
your very bright particular blade.'</p>
<p>'I kiss both your hands, sir,' said the Don, 'and
trust we may be all sweetly sorted to our most
gentlemanly desires.'</p>
<p>With such like compliment, and an infinite making
of legs, we at length took leave of him, greatly
entertained with his humours, and delighted with the renown
which our captain had won by this and his former
exploits.</p>
<p>That evening our captain held a council to determine
what further we should attempt, and thereto was called
Diego, the negro whom we had brought from Nombre de
Dios, that he might be questioned as to the present
condition of the town.</p>
<p>'Soldiers and gold all the same what little Don tells,'
he said, grinning all over his good-humoured face.
'Nombre very full of soldiers, and Treasure-House very
strong, all because of my people, the Cimaroons. I
know better way to get gold from Dons than to burn
fingers after it in Nombre.'</p>
<p>'Say you so, Diego?' said Frank, in his kindly way,
which always won the heart of these people. 'A very
worthy tall fellow you seem. Let us hear about it, and
I doubt not you shall hear of something good too.'</p>
<p>'Yes, I know,' answered the black fellow, showing
his white teeth from ear to ear. 'I know Captain
Drake; so do Cimaroons. Spaniards beat Cimaroons;
Captain Drake beats Spaniards. Mighty tall man
Captain Drake amongst Cimaroons.'</p>
<p>'Well, well, good Diego,' says Frank, very pleased,
'but what of the gold?'</p>
<p>'Why, this way,' says the negro, looking very cunning;
'Treasure-House very strong, best get gold before
it done got to treasure-house.'</p>
<p>'Yes, but how?' says Frank,</p>
<p>'Why, easy as a fall,' says Diego, grinning with all
his might. 'I go to Cimaroons, and say to chief,
"Captain Drake wants gold."—"Mass! then bring his
nobleness here," says the chief; so you go up through the
woods with the Cimaroons, and they show you—and
they show you,' he went on, hardly able to speak for
glee, 'where to stop the great mule trains that come
from Panama to meet the Plate Fleet.'</p>
<p>With that he opened his wide mouth, laid his head
back, and roared with laughter, rubbing his hands
between his knees, and dancing an ungainly measure to the
sound of his own merriment.</p>
<p>This and other intelligences which we had from the
negro, on further questioning him, bred in us great hope
of making our voyage, though our other plans failed.
For in all they agreed and confirmed what Captain
Drake had learned on his two former voyages; which
was that on the arrival of the Plate Fleet from Spain
great quantities of gold, silver, and pearls came across
the isthmus from Panama to Nombre de Dios, partly
by <i>recuas</i> or mule trains, and partly in frigates by
way of the Rio de Chagres, which ran into the sea nigh
to where we were from a place called Venta Crux, within
six leagues of Panama.</p>
<p>When therefore we had refreshed ourselves at the
island two days, our captain sent a party under his
brother John to search this river, with orders, after he
had made full discovery of it, to join Captain Ranse and
the ships at the Isles of Pinos, whither we presently
set sail.</p>
<p>It was our captain's intent now to attempt Carthagena
before the garrison got wind of our being on the
coast, but Captain Ranse was not willing to join us,
thinking we stood in too great danger after we had
discovered ourselves at Nombre de Dios. Frank was not
sorry to dismiss him, I know, for at all times he very
hardly endured to have another joined in command with
him. Therefore, as soon as John Drake returned from
his discovery, we parted company with Sir Edward
Horsey's crew, and remained to make our voyage, if we
could, without them, notwithstanding all the dangers
they feared.</p>
<p>Yet our captain would not altogether give up his
desire to visit Carthagena, whither we sailed with all
speed, though much delayed with light airs, calms, and
want of hands; for, now that our company was divided
between the ships and the pinnaces, each craft was
under-manned. So it fell out that a Spanish pinnace
preceded us a few hours, bringing news of our coming,
and we found they had made so large a provision of
horse, foot, and ordnance for our entertainment that,
being unwilling to trouble them further, we craved them
to bestow on us a great ship of Seville, of some two
hundred and forty tons burthen, which we found well
laden in the harbour, and this they did, though not so
graciously as our moderation warranted.</p>
<p>Having in this way, and more certainly by letters
found in two other prizes which we took, learned that
our presence was known all along the coast, it remained
for us to take some course with our difficulties, which
at last we did, and in such wise as gave me fresh proof,
if any were wanting, of that extraordinary resolution in
our captain which seemed to grow every day more
constant and heroical.</p>
<p>'There is no shift for it but the Cimaroons,' said
Frank to me, as we lay off the islands of St. Bernardo,
some three leagues from Carthagena. 'We must take
to our pinnaces till we find them, and hide along the
coast, so that the Spaniards may think we have departed,
which I am resolved not to do till our voyage be made.'</p>
<p>'But how can we continue longer on the coast?' said
I. 'It may take us weeks to find the Cimaroons, and we
have but little store of victuals.'</p>
<p>'We can make provision with our pinnaces could we
find some place to hide. There are plenty of victuallers
to be taken all along the coast.'</p>
<p>'That would be possible,' I answered, 'if we could
properly man our pinnaces; but this we cannot do, not
having hands enough in the ships as it is.'</p>
<p>'And yet there is no other way,' said Frank, musing;
and then, looking very hard at me, he went on after a
pause: 'What a mercy it would be if one of our ships
were taken from us!'</p>
<p>'What do you mean?' asked I, aghast.</p>
<p>'Why,' says he, 'then we should have enough men to
man the pinnaces.'</p>
<p>'True,' I answered; 'but how should we get back to
England?'</p>
<p>'God would send us means,' says he. 'A smart
frigate or so would fall into our hands when we wanted
it. Indeed, it would be a mercy if one ship were taken!
Then we could make a store-house of the other, and
make our voyage with the full-manned pinnaces.'</p>
<p>'Perhaps it would be well,' I answered; 'but such a
thing is not to be looked for.'</p>
<p>'Cortez burnt his ships,' said Frank, as though he
were thinking, and had not heard me. 'Why should
not I destroy mine? Yet I think he cannot have loved
his as I love mine, the smartest sailers that ever left
Plymouth harbour.'</p>
<p>'Frank,' cried I, 'this is madness; besides, your
company would never permit it.'</p>
<p>'Not permit it!' says he, with a sort of dull fire under
his frown. 'None of my company must talk so, Jasper.
And yet I love the lads for their love of the ships; nor
must a captain, who would be cheerfully followed, strain
obedience further than is necessary. A great captain,
as I trust by God's help to be ere I die, differs only from
his fellows in that he is readily obeyed. Any man of
ordinary wit can see what should be done, yet must he
often abstain from commanding it because he knows
how hardly he will be obeyed, and as often, if he do
command it, find the labour of procuring obedience too
great for his constancy. But your great captain fears
not to command anything, seeing he is always cheerfully
obeyed, and why, lad? Because by policy he shall
cheat those under him into a cheerful willingness
towards all he intends.'</p>
<p>'Well,' said I, 'I will call you before all men a great
captain, if to-morrow you can make your men cheerfully
fire either of these ships.'</p>
<p>'Then, lad,' says he, 'I pray you go fetch hither Tom
Moone, the carpenter of the <i>Swan</i>. That is my own
ship, and that is the one I must burn. To-morrow
arise betimes and come with me fishing in the pinnace
and you shall see how, by my policy, my brother and
his crew shall willingly fire her.'</p>
<p>I did all he said, and in the early morning we were off to
the fishing, for about the island where we lay was a great
store of fishes. As we passed the <i>Swan</i> we fell aboard
of her, and Frank cried out to his brother to come fishing
with him. John Drake jumped up at once, willingly
agreeing to follow us presently. We cast off, but before
we had gone but a few strokes Frank asked us if the
<i>Swan</i> did not sit very low in the water, which we saw
at once that she did.</p>
<p>'Ahoy, Jack!' sung out our captain then, 'what
makes your bark so deep?'</p>
<p>'Nay, I knew not that she was over deep,' says Jack,
and called to the steward to see what water was in her.</p>
<p>Presently there was a mighty splashing, and up
comes the steward, wet to the waist, crying out that
the ship was full of water. All was bustle in a moment,
some of the crew rushing to the pumps and some splashing
about the hold to search for the leak, Tom Moone
being the most forward there.</p>
<p>We fell aboard her again at once to offer our help.
John Drake would have none of it, but only begged to
be excused his attendance on his brother.</p>
<p>'We have hands enough,' said he, 'and will have her
free in a trice. We have not pumped these six weeks,
so what strange chance has befallen to give us six foot
of water in the night is more than I can tell. But I
pray you go on with your fishing; we shall want some
good stuffing come dinner-time, after our pumping.'</p>
<p>Besides our captain and myself, there were none with
us, I think, who had any suspicion of what this strange
chance was, so that our men were not a little surprised
to find on our return that, though out of their great love
for their dainty bark the <i>Swan's</i> company had wellnigh
worked their lives out at the pumps, yet had they freed
but a few inches of water.</p>
<p>'What, so bad!' cried Frank to his brother, who
looked over the side very weary. 'Nay, then, you shall
have our help now, while you eat your dinner.'</p>
<p>With that, acting his part better than I could have
looked for in so plain and blunt a nature, he sprang on
board, and with his own hands fell to work at one of the
pumps with such good will that I thought to see it
burst. All our company, set on by his example, worked
no less hard; yet, though we continued in shifts till
three in the afternoon, we had freed the water little more
than a foot, nor could any man find where the leak was.</p>
<p>Wearied out at last, John Drake, with his master
and crew, gathered round Frank to consult him as to
what order was to be taken, for up till now our general
had not said a word, save to encourage men at the
pumps, seeing that his brother was captain of the ship.</p>
<p>'What shall we do, Frank?' said poor John Drake.
'We shall have to pump the whole North Ocean out of
her before she is dry.'</p>
<p>'Indeed, Jack,' says our captain, 'I cannot tell what
order to take to save her.'</p>
<p>'Well, I care not what comes of her,' says Jack
desperately. 'I think the devil has got her for good
and all. It is some hellish Indian witchcraft of these
Spaniards. I am at my wits' end with her, so do what
you will.'</p>
<p>The whole company were plainly weary of their
ship, no less than was their captain, and crowded round
to hear what Frank would say, very hopefully; for
they had all come to think there was no hole so deep or
miry that he could not draw them out of it.</p>
<p>'If you leave it so to me,' says Frank, 'I tell you
there is only one way. The ship is dead, that is plain.
It is my ship, and it is lost by no fault of master or
mariner. If any is to blame it is I. You, Jack, I
would have go aboard the admiral with your master
and take command of her, and I will be content with a
pinnace till I can capture you a smart frigate in place
of this rotten tub, and incontinently we will fire her
that the Spaniards may find their witchcraft has availed
them nothing.'</p>
<p>I think this advice astonished the company a good
deal, but presently they were very content with it,
saying it was most worthy of their general, who was always
as ready to take blame on himself as to find resolute
remedies for mishaps of others. There were a few who
had sailed in her the two former voyages, and would
gladly have made an effort to save her, being ashamed
to lose her; but when her owner so boldly gave her up
and took all blame on himself, they were very glad to
be rid of her.</p>
<p>In a few minutes the pinnaces were all laid aboard
of her, so that every man might take from her whatever
he wished, and thereupon poor John Drake, his eyes full
of tears, fired her with his own hand. Poor Jack! my
heart bled for him, but I knew it was the only saving
of our venture.</p>
<p>So it came about as Frank had said. Not only had
the whole company been glad enough to destroy the
ship of which they were so proud, not only had he got
his way, hard as it seemed, but by his generosity to his
brother, his hearty sharing of their labour, and his
cheerful resolution through it all, he stood higher with
the whole company than ever he did before.</p>
<p>'Well, Frank,' said I, as we sailed away next day
towards the Sound of Darien with the <i>Pasha</i> and our
fully-manned pinnaces, 'you have your will, but it was
a sorry trick to play them.'</p>
<p>'Nought but a bit of policy,' laughed he, 'such as all
commanders must use at times.'</p>
<p>'Save you, lad, from Machiavelli and all his works,'
said I, 'for I think you are fast growing Italianate.
But, tell me, how was it done?'</p>
<p>'Why, with a spike-gimlet,' says he. 'Tom Moone
pleaded hard for his beloved bark, so that my heart
almost melted. Then he said he would get his throat
cut; but I told him to be secret, to do it close to the
keel at night, and lay something over the holes that the
flow of the water should make no noise to betray him,
and so it was done. It was a desperate piece of service,
I know, but Tom Moone shall have cause to remember
what he did for me at this pass.'</p>
<p>And so indeed he had; for when Frank equipped his
fleet for that renowned voyage in which he encompassed
the world, he made this trusty carpenter captain of the
<i>Canter</i> or <i>Christopher</i>, as it was afterwards named.</p>
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