IN 1567 Francis Drake had accompanied John Hawkins on a slave-trading expedition to the Spanish Main; the worthy pair had gone across to Africa, where they had captured a number of Africans, whom they shipped to the West to sell as slaves, seeing that the Spaniards were sorely in need of labourers. Now, it was a maxim with the Dons that the Wealthy West was for Spaniards only, and they very much resented the coming of the Englishmen, so that, while professing the desire to trade with them, they really played them false; and it was only by the skin of their teeth that Hawkins and Drake managed to escape to England, even then having to leave a number of their men in the hands of the Spaniards.
Drake was angry. He vowed vengeance. Henceforth he determined not to go on trading expeditions, but to sally forth to the Spanish Main to take toll of the riches that the Spaniards were harvesting year by year. He did nothing in a hurry; he worked things out, went on a voyage or so to get the lie of the land, and in 1572 left Plymouth—bound for Panama! On one of his previous voyages he had laid up stores at a place on the mainland which he had called Port Pheasant, because he had seen a great number of those birds flying about there. Arrived at Port Pheasant on this new voyage, he received a mild sort of shock. Nailed to a tree was a leaden letter:
“Captain Drake,
“If you have fortune to come into the port, make haste away, for the Spaniards which you had with you last year have betrayed this place, and taken away all that you left here. I departed hence this present 7th of July, 1572.
“Your loving friend,
“John Garret.”
Now, although Drake knew the seriousness of the position, he refused to be frightened away. He had work to do—the fitting up of his pinnaces—and he resolved to do this before leaving. He therefore set his men to work, and in a week was ready to sail for Nombre de Dios, his first place of call on the Spaniards. Just as he was about to start there came to the port an English barque commanded by Captain James Rouse, who threw in his lot—and his thirty-eight men—with Drake; and the company set sail for Nombre de Dios. At a small island called the Isle of Pines they stopped a while, and Drake appealed to the cupidity of his men, in the hope of making them even firmer than ever in their determination to do their utmost.
“Comrades,” he cried, “before us lies the world’s treasure-house. You are brave; and with your help I am confident of success. Follow me, and yours shall be the Spaniard’s wealth; yours shall be the fame that comes from great deeds, and we shall be able to take to your Queen much treasure and have good stores for ourselves!”
That put good heart into his men, and when they came to Nombre de Dios they were ready for anything, although they murmured, some of them, against attacking in daylight, as was Drake’s intention. However, Drake had to alter his plans, for when they came into the harbour they found a big ship there. Someone aboard saw them, and the vessel was headed for the shore to give the alarm. The English soon stopped her little game; the pinnaces raced after her, headed her off to seaward, and then, feeling safe, the men landed, fondly believing that they were unnoticed.
They were mistaken. While the rest of the garrison slept or made merry, or were on guard to landward against an attack from Cimaroons, one gunner was at his post in the fort. One gunner, one shot, and the town was in alarm; and away went the Spaniard racing into the town to tell of the coming of the hated English. There ensued a hubbub in Nombre de Dios; bells rang out their tocsin call, trumpets blared, drums rolled, and men rallied up to withstand the foe. As for Drake, he grasped the situation promptly, and had his plan working without delay. He divided his men into two companies, leading one himself and sending the other forward under his brother John and John Oxenham, hoping by this means to delude the Spaniards into thinking that a large force had come against them.
It was a queer scene. Every man Jack of Drake’s companies carried a firepike, whose flaming torch lit up the place weirdly; they made unearthly noises on trumpets, and rent the air with war-cries which struck terror into the Spaniards. So much so that, hearing the advance of men from two quarters, the Dons, forgetting all about the treasure in their stores, took to their heels and ran for dear life.