“But the ludicrous soon took place of all other feelings; in such a crowd and such confusion all serious thought was impossible, while the new buoyancy of our spirits made us abundantly willing to be amused by the scene which now opened. Every man was hungry and was to be fed, all were ragged and were to be clothed, there was not one to whom washing was not indispensable, nor one whom his beard did not deprive of all English semblance. All, everything, too, was to be done at once; it was washing, dressing, shaving, eating, all intermingled; it was all the materials of each jumbled together; while, in the midst of all, there were interminable questions to be asked and answered on all sides: the adventures of the Victory, our own escapes, the politics of England, and the news which was now four years old. But all subsided into peace at last. The sick were accommodated, the seamen disposed of, and all was done for all of us which care and kindness could perform. Night at length brought quiet and serious thoughts, and I trust there was not one man among us who did not then express, where it was due, his gratitude for that interposition which had raised us all from a despair which none could now forget, and had brought us from the very borders of a not distant grave to life, and friends, and civilization.
“Long accustomed, however, to a cold bed on the hard snow or the bare rock, few could sleep amid the comfort of our new accommodations. I was myself compelled to leave the bed which had been kindly assigned me and take my abode in a chair for the night, nor did it fare much better with the rest. It was for time to reconcile us to this sudden and violent change, to break through what had become habit, and to inure us once more to the usages of our former days.”
As a curious contrast to these exciting descriptions of danger, we will sketch in as compact a form as possible the first voyage round the world performed by an Englishman—namely, our illustrious countryman, Sir Francis Drake.
Queen Elizabeth, on presenting a sword to the commander of a secret expedition, said, “We do account that he which striketh at thee, Drake, striketh at us.” His fleet consisted of five ships—the Pelican, of 120 tons burthen; the Elizabeth, a bark of 80 tons; the Swan, a fly-boat of 50 tons; the Marygold, a barque of 30 tons, and the Christopher, a pinnace of 15 tons, and was ostensibly fitted out for a trading voyage to Alexandria, though this pretence did not deceive the watchful Spaniards. Drake, like Columbus and Cook, chose small ships as better fitted to thread narrow and difficult channels. The crews of his little squadron amounted to one hundred and sixty men; an old author says that he did not omit “provision for ornament and delight, carrying with him expert musicians, rich furniture (all the vessels for his table, yea, many belonging to his cook-room, being of pure silver), with divers shows of all sorts of curious workmanship whereby the civility and magnificence of his native country might, among all nations whither he should come, be the more admired.”
Although it is likely that the intrepid resolve of crossing the Pacific Ocean was not originally formed by Drake, and only entered into from circumstances in which he was afterwards placed, he is not the less entitled to the praise so often given him for penetrating with so small a force the channel explored by Magellan and known by his name. The passage through the Straits of Magellan had long been abandoned by the Spaniards, and a superstition had arisen against adventuring into the Pacific, as likely to prove fatal to any who are engaged in the discovery or even in the navigation of its waters.
Drake was at first driven back by a violent storm; but, unintimidated by this adverse augury, he finally set sail from Plymouth on the 13th of December, 1577. On Christmas-day they reached Cape Cantin, on the coast of Barbary, and on the 27th found a safe and commodious harbour in Mogadore. Here Drake had some unpleasant transactions with Muley Moloc, the celebrated king of the Moors, but sailed again on the last day of the year. The less important places touched at in the succeeding part of the voyage were Cape Blanco, the isles of Mayo and San Jago, and the “Isla del Fogo,” or Burning Island, together with “Ilba Brava,” or the Brave Island. The equinoctial line is afterwards crossed amidst alternate calms and tempest; they are supplied with fresh water by copious rains, and they also catch dolphins, bonitos, and flying-fish which fell on the decks, “where hence,” says the invaluable Hakluyt, “they could not rise againe for want of moisture, for when their wings are drie they cannot flie.” At length, on the 5th of April, they had fully voyaged across the wide Atlantic, and made the coast of Brazil in 31° 30´ south latitude. They saw the natives raising fires on the shore, beheld troops of wild deer, “large and mightie,” and saw the foot-prints of men of large stature on the beach. On the 15th of the same month they anchored in the great River Plate, where they killed “certaine sea-wolves, commonly called seales.” They thus secured a new supply of fresh provisions, and shortly after of fresh water.
On the 27th they again stood out to sea, and steered southward. The Swan was outsailed by the rest of the little fleet, and also the Mary, a very small Portuguese vessel, or caunter, which they had taken in their course. On the 12th of May, Drake anchored within view of a headland, and the next morning went in a boat to the shore. Here he was in some danger, for a thick fog came on and shut him from the view of the vessels; a gale also arose and drove them out to sea. Fires were at length lighted, all the vessels, save the Swan and the Mary, were again collected together. Fifty dried ostriches, besides other fowls, are related to have been here found deposited by the savages, and of this store the ships’ crews took possession. Upwards of two hundred seals were also taken and slaughtered; and while a party was filling water-casks, killing seals, and salting fowls for future provision, Drake himself set sail in the Pelican, and Captain Winter in the Elizabeth, each on different tacks, in search of the Swan and the Mary. Drake soon found the Swan, and, to diminish the cares and hazards of the voyage, removed all her stores and then broke her up for firewood.
The place of rendezvous was named Seal Bay, and some highly interesting accounts of interviews with the savage native tribes during their stay here are given in Hakluyt. On the 3rd of June they set sail once more; on the 19th they found the missing Portuguese prize, the Mary; and the next day the whole squadron moored in Port San Julian, latitude 49° 30´ S.
A very perilous squabble took place here with the native Patagonians. A gunner belonging to the crew was shot through with an arrow, and died on the spot, and Robert Winter, relative of the officer above mentioned, was wounded, and died in consequence shortly afterwards. The stature of these tribes has been the subject of dispute from the time of Magellan to our own. An old author in Hakluyt says, “These men be of no such stature as the Spaniardes report, being but of the height of Englishmen: for I have seene men in England taller than I could see any of them. But peradventure the Spaniard did not thinke that any Englishman would have come thither so soone to have disproved them in this and divers others of their notorious lies.” Another author, however, makes the Patagonians seven feet and a half in height.