Mackerels are swift i’ the shine of the moon!
And herrings in gales when they wind us,
But timing our oars, so smoothly we run,
That we leave them in shoals behind us—
Then cry one and all!
Amain! for Whitehall!
The Diegos we’ll board to rummage their hold,
And drawing our steel, they must draw out their gold.”
The first verse of this song, called ‘Sir Francis Drake’s Triumph,’ I got through. In the first line of the second my voice choked as though there were churchyard dust in my throat. I got up and walked to and fro in the cell. Through the window I could see the little square patch of blue sky, dotted as full of stars as the door behind me was full of nail-heads. Through the opening there floated the rich smell of flowers and herbs wetted with the cooling dews of the night. There was a garden, belonging, probably, to the alcaide, or governor, behind my prison. I tried, why, I know not, perhaps my nervous restlessness impelled me, to clamber up and look out, but my fettered hands forbade. So, at length, thinking it wisest to attempt to compose myself to sleep, I flung me down on the bench, and though the chill of my wet clothes sent shudderings through me, I at length fell off into a disturbed doze, dreaming confused and frightful visions, which every now and then woke me up with a great start.
In the morning I had some bread, stock-fish, and water for breakfast, and was thereafter conducted before his worship the alcaide. The chamber which was his court was a barely-furnished room, with a dais, or raised step, on which was placed a long table. Behind it stood a comfortable leather chair—the throne of justice. On one side of the table there was a desk all strewed with papers, where sat the clerk. There was no bar for the accused, who simply stood in the centre of the floor, surrounded by his guards or jailers, while a few benches round the walls furnished accommodation for the spectators. When I entered, the alcaide seemed just to have taken his seat. He was a burly, morose man; his swarthy face all torn and seamed by the smallpox, and a blue scar rising up from one of his black bristling eyebrows. He had great gold earrings, and his thick brown fingers were gemmed with rings. The clerk, who sat near, next attracted my notice. He was an old little man, and all his lean weasen face was one pucker of wrinkles, out of which gleamed two greenish eyes, sparkling like those of the ferret, as the creature fixes its long front teeth in the jugular artery of its prey. As I gazed upon the aspect of my judge, and his counsellor and assistant, I felt my hopes of life and liberty oozing out of me at every pore. Two more ill-looking gentlemen you might not find in a long day’s search. The court was tolerably well filled with spectators, for the news of an English pirate, as they called me, captured in the harbour, had spread like wildfire, and I found myself the centre of a thick mass of swarthy faces, and black gleaming eyes, and long curling jet-black moustaches. The officer of the boat which had captured me, was placed, out of compliment to his quality, upon a chair near the judge, and close by him sat the military gentleman who had been so certain of my being hanged when delivered to him over-night. This man had very bloodshot eyes, and a fierce look; indeed, he seemed made of the same kidney as the alcaide, to whom he frequently whispered, in a hoarse, husky voice. The sergeant or the soldiers I did not see at all. My jailers were mere ordinary turnkey-looking fellows, not rougher or more brutal than most of their class. Just before the proceedings commenced, who should enter but my old acquaintance, for such I considered him, Don José! He made his way through the crowd very cavalierly, and ascending the dais, was welcomed by the dignitaries there, with whom he seemed tolerably well acquainted, and presently had a chair brought him, and talked and laughed gaily, until the alcaide hemming loudly, and settling himself in his seat, the old ferret-eyed clerk took up his pen, and the court was formally opened.