University of Virginia Library


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II SAN JUAN DE LUA

This is a tale of treason, with the fate of a world in its wake—
The treason of Don Martine and the oath of Francis Drake!
It was nigh twelve months since Captain John had beat out of Plymouth Sound
With the Queen's tall ships the Jesus and the Minion southward bound;
And Drake in the little Judith had sailed in his kinsman's train,
With his all on earth in the venture to trade on the Spanish Main.
They met with a gale in Biscay, they had started late in the year,
And the Queen's tall ship the Jesus was leaky and ill to steer;
So they halted in Grand Canary and righted their disarray,
Recaulked the straining timbers and then to the South away!
They harried the Lisbon traders with Fenner's name for a plea,
For the law of quick reprisal was the grim old law at sea;

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And the Grace of God got an English name and an English flag at the main
Ere they sailed for Margarita and the ocean world of Spain.
There's many a tale were well forgot,—there's little enough to boast
Of the work they did those winter months in the bights of the Guinea coast.
They did not barter their English gold for the palm-oil or the date,
But the hulls that came in ballast went out with a living freight;
On an evil day, John Hawkins, you took up with an evil trade,
And you set your course by a luckless star with the fruit of a bloody raid!
Though many had held it was God's work too, while in that dark Afric hell
Before the inhuman altars the weak and the captive fell;
While the wretch foredoomed to the slaughter might live to be sold a slave,
The brand be plucked from the burning and a soul be won to save.
But little recked they of doubts or fears that vexed the soul of the wise,
They did as the world did round them, and they claimed their share of the prize:
And their sons shall make atonement, in the years that are to be,
For the freight they bore to the New World's shore through the still Sargasso Sea.

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They were seven weeks in the ocean and never a sail went by,
Cramped in the lonely vastness of infinite sea and sky:
But ever the stars moved eastward, and the new stars rose to ken,
The awe of the waters scared them, and they longed for the paths of men:
Till at last with the sunrise glimmer there rose through an opal sea
A shadowy range of islands and the haze of a land on the lee;
And the mariner's boy stared wondering eyed—for the wings of the wind were furled,
And the capes hung high in the still mirage of dawn on a phantom world;
A land where never our island oaks had fared since the years began,
Until John Hawkins taught them the path of the Englishman.
Then a breeze came perfume-laden from the heart of the tropic zone,
And crinkling waves tossed round them the drift of a shore unknown:
And the winged fish rose on the face of the deep to skim like a cloud of spray
From edge to edge of the curling blue and into the blue away;
But the sun still beckoned them westward till he sank in a blaze of fire
On the fabled hills of a thousand dreams and the goal of a world's desire;
While the parting mists wreathed upwards in delicate rosy whirls,
And there peered through a rift in the broken veil the peaks of the isle of pearls.

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Now Philip in his great wisdom had laid England under a ban,
And never a New World settler might trade with an Englishman.
But the lust of the land was on them, the craving of men confined
For a draft of the fresh spring water, a breath of the off-shore wind,
So they landed in Margarita in despite of the King of Spain,
They paid their footing in honest gold and quickened their hearts again.
And they saw the unscaled mountains that rose from the New World's edge,
Where the long surf rollers thunder and burst on the coral ledge;
But they skirted steep La Guayra till they came to a lonely bay,
In the gulf that men called “Sorrowful,” where was none to say them nay;
And there they abode careening, refitting masts and spars,
And they learned the signs of the seasons and the march of the tropic stars.
Here all was a land of marvel: the fireflies' glimmer at night,
The shore where the sea-weed gardens rock under the phosphor light;
The great tree-ferns and the coco palms, and the wild lime's sweet perfume,
The edge of the forest crimsoned with the great hibiscus bloom,

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Where clinging from each green tangle hang down like a cluster of bells,
Purple and pink and scarlet, the frail convolvulus cells;
Where the moth-birds pause and flutter a shower of gems in the air,
Dip slender bills in the waxen cups and drink of the nectar there.
So a passion of high adventure came over that English crew,—
They had seen the New World's promise and the way that the east wind blew;
They had only stood on the threshold, on the marge of the siren west,
But the magic wand had touched them, and now they would never rest.
From thence they began their trading—the peace of the realms their plea,
And the right of open harbour to all from the open sea.
The Spanish governors shook their heads, but they made protest in vain,
And the Guinea freight was bartered in despite of the King of Spain;
For the settlers made them welcome, and came off in the night aboard,
Or they claimed their rights of market at the point of the naked sword;
And it prospered those free-traders till deep in the Jesus' hold
Was a smouldering fire of jewels and a shimmer of virgin gold.

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Then merry at heart they hoisted sail with a homeward facing prow,
For each had a share in the venture, and each was a rich man now.
It was northward first, then eastward, the course that the Gulf Stream ran,
Where it swept to the bend of Cuba from the elbow of Yucatan;
And there the storms broke on them, and the wave came nigh to whelm:
The hulls were foul, and they made no way, and the Jesus lost her helm.
Oh nerve of iron and heart of oak were set in the simple mould
Of the men who sped to the unknown seas in the crazy craft of old!
They drove past misty headlands with the chill of death on their souls,
And they heard the thunders breaking over uncharted shoals;
And thrice each deemed that the rest were lost, and scoured the seas in vain,
And thrice each fought in a week of storm with the might of the hurricane;
They saw no sun in the daytime, and the stars at night were blind,
And they sped for a week on an unknown course at the mercy of the wind;
Till their desperate hearts were broken, and as men who have nought to lose,
They ran right in to the hornet's nest in the port of Vera Cruz.

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So they moored in the outer harbour, while the ships' bells rang to prayer,
And they cried on the Lord who had spared their lives to be with them even there;
For this was the way with the western folk in storm or battle or raid,
They wrought with a will, and they fought with a will, and so with a will they prayed.
For strong, they said, are the whirlwinds, and long is the arm of the foe,
But the finger of God is strongest in the path where seamen go.
Now it chanced that there in the haven the Indies' Plate Fleet lay,
To wait for the convoy galleons that were due since many a day;
And all Potosi's hoarded gold, and the wealth of half Peru,
Lay under the guns of Captain John, of Drake, and his trusty few.
So the governor manned his galley, and the Dons put out to greet
The long-expected vanguard, as he deemed, of the convoy fleet;
But he found himself on an alien deck, and he stared at Captain John,
And he bowed a cold obeisance, and made haste to get him gone;
While couriers sped fast inland to ride with the evil news,
There were pirate craft and heretics in the port of Vera Cruz.
Then stoutly smiled John Hawkins, and he said, “Sith need must be,
I will hold this port of the King of Spain till my ships can face the sea:

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“By the chance of storm and our evil star we are here in the lion's jaw;
And here, my lads, we must hold our own by the need that knows no law!”
Now the haven pass is narrow, but it widens deep inland
From the isle which bars the entrance and the long low spit of sand;
So they warped their ships to the new sea-wall in the lee of the island south,
Where the lead gave seven fathoms, and they held San Juan's mouth.
And they landed guns on the island, they worked with might and main,
And they built the fort Defiance in the jaws of the King of Spain.
No moon betrayed their counsel as they laboured through the night,
And dawn broke over a freshening sea with the convoy fleet in sight.
There were six tall ships on the starboard line, and seven more on the port,
But the English flag was waving from a spar on the island fort.
So Don Martine Enriquez hove to outside the bar,—
And “Bring me word forthwith,” said he, “who these intruders are!”
But a boat shot out from the haven and drew to the flagship's lee,
John Hawkins sat in the stern-sheets, with his cutlass on his knee;—

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“To the Lord High Admiral greeting, for the peace that is between
King Philip's royal majesty and my own most gracious Queen;
“We be English seamen weather-bound in a port of the King of Spain,
As we came in peace we would bide in peace, and in peace sail out again;
“We met with a gale off Cuba, we are leaky and out of gear,—
But yet, my Lord, by your evil chance we are like to be masters here.
“There is one way into the haven, and that is a narrow way,
And not one ship can make it if I choose to say you nay;
“If the breeze should freshen to half a gale, as it blew for a week and more,
You'll find no break five hundred miles in the surf on the long lee shore,—
“We hold the fort on the island bar, and I swear by book and creed,
I will sink you all in the narrow pass if my warrant must be my need.
“But if you will pledge your honour in the name of the King of Spain
You will do my ships no violence so long as we shall remain,
“You will neither let nor hinder my men upon shore or sea,
And leave the ward of the island fort to my captains and to me;
“If you sign these terms of treaty here under your hand and seal,
Ye shall pass in peace to your moorings, and all shall be to your weal;

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“But if you will give me no such bond, in the name of England's Queen
I give you the bond of an Englishman that ye shall not enter in!”
Then the face of Don Martine grew dark with an evil frown,
As his captains came about him and they paced it up and down;
For he held the King's commission to chase and harry and take
The bodies of one John Hawkins and his kinsman Francis Drake.
The day wore by debating while the freshening north wind grew,
And the waves came crisply curling with a long white edge to the blue;
The shrill breeze sang in the cordage, and panic grew with the wind,
He looked at the lee-shore breakers, he looked at the bond, and signed.
So the stately galleons entered between the isle and the crags,
While our men stood all to quarters and the Queen's ships dipped their flags.
The Spaniards moored in the inner port where the laden Plate Fleet lay,
The English bode by the new sea-wall, but the breeze died down with the day.
Then all went well for a little while, there was change of courtesies,
The men took heart of confidence and they landed on the quays;

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They marvelled much at the giant ships that were nigh two thousand tons,
With castles set on the poop and prow and tier over tier of guns:
Not all the fleet of England could have mustered such a line,
And they pledged the Dons in fellowship, and they tasted Spanish wine.
It was noon on the third day after, we had half of our crews away
When the sudden rattle of musket fire rang over the silent bay;
The galleons slipped a cable's length and drifted down the tide,
While a great black hulk towed seaward swang round to the Minion's side.
There was never a word of warning till the ships' sides clashed, and then
Their boarders sprang to the ratlins and the hulk grew quick with men;
But the war drums beat to quarters, and a cry went round our ships,
The crews sprang up the hatchways with “Treason!” on their lips;
And they snatched up pike and hatchet and capstan-bar and sword,
And they dashed out on the Spaniards, and they flung them overboard;
While stricken men with gaping wounds came swimming off from shore,
And boats put back in frantic haste to the ships they reached no more.

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They hoisted sail in a hail of shot, and they cut the hawsers free,
So the Minion and the Judith won safe to the open sea.
But the Jesus lay dismantled where the galleons ringed her round,
And they opened fire at the stroke of noon in black San Juan's Sound.
The land troops crossed in barges by the shoals from the haven town,
They took the fort on the island, and they mowed the gunners down;
They trained their guns on the Jesus, and she fought like a wolf at bay,
With the wolf-hounds barking round her, cut off from the narrow way.
They will plead reserves of conscience, and the oath that is no oath,
But dearly Don Martine shall pay for his broken troth,—
For the gunners of the Jesus have laid their pieces true,
And they struck him hard on the water-line, and they lacked the flagship through;
The wave rushed in by the breaches, and there rose a shuddering cry
From the soldiers penned in the fighting-decks to every saint in the sky;
The main-mast snapped and toppled with the banner of proud Castile,
The poop sank down in the churning sea, and the stem showed clean to the keel;
While far away from the Judith's deck the sound of cheering broke,
As the Admiral's great Armada went down in a cloud of smoke.

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“So the devil comes to his own again!” laughed grim old Captain John,
And his blue eyes flashed through the powder smirch, as he roared from the poop, “Fight on!”
There were four great galleons silenced when the powder was spent at last,
When they loosed their fireships on him, and then the end came fast;
So he manned his boats with the rest of his crew, and they cut their desperate way
To the harbour gate and the narrow strait and into the outer bay;
And there as they won to the Minion and climbed to the Judith's decks,
They could see the Jesus burning in the midst of a ring of wrecks;
And all the fruits of the voyage, the silver and gems and gold,
The charts they had made and the traitor's bond went down with the burning hold.
But none made bold to follow of all they had fought so well,—
The kindlier sea received them and the shadow of evening fell.
Day broke on a dreary ocean, San Juan was far behind,—
And the God of the just and unjust tethered the wings of the wind.
So they hugged the reefs long days and nights, till they chanced on an inland reach,
Where the surf was still, and the lead sank deep, and the wave lay asleep on the beach;

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Where the smooth transparent water was clear as a film of air,
Over fathom-deep weed gardens and sea things marvellous fair;
Where the forest pressed to the blue tide's marge, and never mayhap till then
Wide wandering ships had carried the venturous lives of men.
And a hundred souls of their own free will were left on the tropic shore,
Since they never might win to England with the burden that they bore.
Solemn was that leave-taking, where they knelt in the alien sand,
Commending these their comrades into their Maker's hand;
For a year and more in an alien world they had shared in weal and woe,
Had breasted storm and affronted toil, and had held their own with the foe;
And those rough old dogs of ocean were tender of heart and true,
And comrade clung to his comrade staunch as captain clung to his crew;
There were salt wet tears on the furrowed cheeks that the tropic suns had tanned
As they bade farewell, and they left them there to their chance in an unknown land;
To an evil fate, and an unforeseen, as it proved in the years to be,
When the curse of the Holy Office fell over that island sea.

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It was well-nigh three months later the watch on the Hoe descried
The wraith of a battered warship beat in on the flooding tide;
Through the dismal wintry waters, through infinite trials past,
Hungry and lean and spent with storm, it was Drake come home at last.
And later yet in the new year's dawn came the little Minion too,
Smitten with plague in the ocean and manned with a stranger crew.
But the length and the breadth of England took fire at the news they brought,
The treason of Don Martine and the fight John Hawkins fought.
And Drake has got him another ship, and sworn to the Lord of Hosts
He will claim redress at the cannon's mouth round all their ports and coasts,
Till the treasure stores of the Indies have atoned to him fifty-fold
The loss of the good ship Jesus and her men and the Guinea gold;
And so he has gathered a willing crew with the rest of his Judith's men,
And they're off once more on the same old trail, and it's Westward Ho again;
And wherever the wide seas open he will brook no bar nor stay,
And there's never a wave but English sails shall claim for their free highway;

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Till the sceptre shall pass of ocean, and the whole of the world shall know
That an English life is a sacred thing wherever a keel can go!
And Captain John was on all men's lips, and his loss was England's gain,
For his single ship had shattered the myth of the might of Spain.