"'Tis Master Francis Drake come home at last!" All Plymouth went down to the water's edge to greet their special hero—Drake of Devon!
But Francis Drake had not arrived at a happy moment for himself. Alva had been offering good terms, and the Queen was surrounded just then by friends of Spain. Drake's position was one of danger; he might possibly be given up to Philip as a mere pirate who had not the Queen's sanction. So he took his ship round to Queenstown and hid in "Drake's Pool."
Time went on, and still politics made his life dangerous; so Drake with a letter of introduction from Hawkins joined Essex in Ireland. It was a very cruel and heartless war, even against women and children; and from what we have seen of Drake's chivalry to women, it must have been most loathsome to his great soul. However, when he returned to London things had changed; this time the Queen was very angry with Philip, and she sent Walsingham to seek out Drake. The Queen was very gracious, and said she wanted Drake to help her against the King of Spain. How his heart must have leapt up with a new hope; but the wind of policy veered again, and nothing came of the interview at first. Still, it was something to have been introduced to the Queen by Sir Christopher Hatton; and when that lady gave Drake a sword and said, "We do account that he which striketh at thee, Drake, striketh at us," he must have felt a proud man.
A man so frank and open as Francis Drake was, must have found it difficult to follow the shifts and turns of policy. The Queen would not openly give her sanction to a new expedition, but she secretly aided the enterprise; and Sir John Hawkins and many others subscribed.
Drake was to sail in the Pelican, 100 tons; Captain Winter in the Elizabeth, of 80. There were also the Marygold, the Loan, and the Christopher, a pinnace, of 35 tons. The crews, officers and gentlemen, amounted to some two hundred.
They sailed from Plymouth on the 15th of November 1577, but a terrible storm off Falmouth obliged them to put back. They started afresh on the 13th of December, and were to meet at Mogadore, on the coast of Barbary. It seems that Burghley did not approve of Drake's bold venture, and had sent Thomas Doughtie, with secret orders to do what he could to limit the risks and scope of the expedition. Doughtie was a personal friend of Drake, and it was some time before Sir Francis found out what Doughtie was doing—such as tampering with the men and trying to lessen Drake's influence. When they were near the equator, Drake, being very careful of his men's health, let every man's blood with his own hands.
In February they made the coast of Brazil, without losing touch of one another. Here they landed and saw "great store of large and mighty deer." They also found places for drying the flesh of the nandu, or American ostrich, whose thighs were as large as "reasonable legs of mutton." Further south they stored seal-flesh, having slain over two hundred in the space of an hour! The natives whom they saw were naked, saving only that they wore the skin of some beast about their waist. They carried bows an ell long, and two arrows, and were painted white on one side and black on the other.
They were a tall, merry race; delighted in the sound of the trumpet, and danced with the sailors. One of them, seeing the men take their morning draught, took a glass of strong Canary wine and tossed it off; but it immediately went to his head, and he fell on his back. However, the savage took such a liking to the draught that he used to come down from the hills every morning, bellowing "Wine! wine!"
A few days later there was a scuffle at Port Julian with the natives, and Robert Winter was killed. But a greater tragedy was impending.
Sixty years before, Magellan had crushed a mutiny on this spot, and the old fir-posts that formed the gallows still stood out on the windy headland.