Act 2 — Scene I.—THE HARBOUR OF SAN JUAN DE ULLOA.

It is surrounded by high cliffs with batteries. An Island at the mouth. Spanish and English ships. The town. Deck of the “Jesus” of Lubeck.—Sir John Hawkins, Drake, Hampton, Bolton. A Council of War. Thunder! Lightning! Tempest!

Hawkins. Comrades, we may well thank God for this refuge. We had a narrow escape in that gale. I thought the “Jesus” of Lubeck would never weather it. Our voyage has been prosperous beyond expectations. Above a million and a half netted, with four hundred Negroes still on hands. To have left it all behind, with our bodies to the sharks, in the Gulf of Mexico, would have been a calamity. Now with our freight of enormous value, even if we were rid of our remaining Negroes, we could not move till we refit. This old hulk in her present condition, would never float to England. Besides, the possibility of falling in with a Spanish fleet—our canvas in rags, and spars in this state. Weigh it well, comrades!—Weigh it well.

Bolton. This is the very spot for us; we ride here in safety. Neither wind nor sea can touch us. And we are masters of the place. Our guns on the island command the entrance, the town is at our own mercy, the fortified heights are in our hands; we could sink the whole Navy of Spain in five minutes.

Drake. I should be very sorry to see the whole Navy of Spain for the present. There are twelve first-rate ships here, and two hundred thousand pounds worth of gold and silver in them, which with what we have already made, and our pearls, emeralds, and precious metals, would be a goodly return—say something like two millions. It would give us some weight in our native country! Heh! (He walks about with a smile, as they stare at him excited) Why Old England has not seen the like. How jolly Plymouth would shout with all her Tars. By St. George, I think I see the uproar when they should behold our Gallant Navy riding in the Sound. (He looks at them as they gaze in excitement—even Hawkins is surprised) It is a great temptation! Philip might threaten. Cecil might grumble and make notes; the Jesuits might plot; but England and our noble Queen would look at us with other eyes. I say, take the treasure and the ships; put the town to ransom; and let us be off! I don’t like the look of the place. Delays are dangerous. Action! action! for me. I hate Spain and her people. Treachery, perfidy, and cruelty make up the mind and character of a Spaniard.

Hawkins. Hitherto we have acted within law, and under treaty, solemnly made between Spain and England.

Drake. I have no faith in and treaty or peace subsisting between the nations (He comes up to Hawkins, looks at him archly in the face. All observing with great interest) Why man, you forget the small exchange of national amenities just before our departure.

Hawkins (laughing) Oh! you allude to that Spanish ship which—

Drake (interrupting with comical seriousness) I mean the Spanish man-of-war, with Flemish prisoners, who came for shelter into Plymouth Harbour. You fired upon her with the Castillian flag at her main; made her haul down her colours, and deliver up her prisoners, which you sent home to fight against Spain. You remember the stir Philip made about it, and when the Queen sent you an angry message (Lord, she never meant it—a mere blind) you audaciously told her that you deserved her thanks for maintaining the honour of the country (laughter). You know we sailed under the protest of De Silva and have carried on our trade by force of arms.

Bolton. We could not venture to sea without repairs. We want at least a week.

Hampton. Oh! we could soon victual—seize the ships, levy contributions, put the town to ransom, and make sail.

Hawkins. But then, you see the Treaty. What would the Council say? What would Cecil say? He is against us as it is. Besides, the legitimate trade we are carrying on—a million! in a single voyage. This in my opinion is better than booty and open war.

Drake. Treaty!—Peace!—Legitimate trade!—Hawkins don’t deceive yourself; bits of paper cannot disguise the virulent hostility subsisting between Spain and England. The legitimate trade we are carrying on in ships armed to the teeth! It is nothing but open war—a defiance of Philip and his power. Talk of the Council being against us, and what Cecil may say. (Contemptuously). Cecil! who can see no other way to keep up our Navy than an Act of Parliament to compel the Protestant People of England to eat fish. Ha! Ha! Ha! (laughter in which the crews join. With emphasis). Bluff King Hal and his Parliament, thought Beef at a farthing a pound was the right way to keep up the stout hearts and strong arms of Englishmen, who themselves have ever been the true and only defence of their Country and Freedom. (He walks aside indignant. Laughter—caught up and echoed back with tremendous cheers by the sailors around and below decks). Whenever Britons, in sloth and ignorance shall delegate their duty to a Council, or a Government, they will forfeit their high Destiny—their Commission from on High!—Their safety and their Liberties will sink together in the dust of Rottenness, and the proud Island of the Brave and Free, remain only a bleak, deserted, and ruined rock amid the breakers, a monument of the past; a warning to the future, like Tyre and Carthage, and Great Rome herself. England can only fall through treason and corruption. (Cheers from the sailors and shouts).

Sailors. May God defend us from that. We can defend us from our enemies ourselves, Hurrah!

Hawkins. The Jesus is a wreck, can scarcely float, her mainmast sprung—she could not go to sea.

Drake. Abandon her then.—Here are plenty of ships fit for a voyage, with treasure in them. Take your choice, burn the rest, and make sail with what we have. Put no faith in Spaniards. They will consider the treaty as so much waste paper, when it serves their ends to do so. They fear and hate us, and neither bonds nor treaties will stop them in their vengeance. Our only treaty to rely on is in ourselves when we are too strong for them—God grant it may ever be so—or woe to Merry England.

Hawkins. Abandon the Jesus! You forget that she is the Queen’s ship—the only one in the expedition. Do you know the temper of our good Queen? She will expect her ship back, and also her share of the profit. What if, instead, I should bring the Kingdom under heavy demands from Philip for our infraction of the Treaty; I ask you, do you know her temper, or what her Royal and gentle Majesty would say? Heh!

Drake (laughing as at a joke). Fire and Steel! I should think I did, Ha! Ha! Ha! I know our Royal Mistress well. Her Majesty is a good Protestant, but she has two idols set up in her heart, whose worship she will never abandon for any other creed, “ambition and avarice;” the love of power, and the love of gold. Give her these, what cares she for an old hulk. Let her know that her heroes can sweep the seas, that we defy, and soon shall break the force of haughty Spain. Above all, drench her with gold and show me the power on earth that can drag it from her. (He walks aside with his hands up). She will swallow man the gold of the Indies, but believe me, disgorge it, never. Temper! Fire and Steel! I think I see her temper on the receipt of a dispatch from Philip, that clerk king, whose sceptre is his pen with which he dooms brave men to death, and nations to slavery, whilst he himself, the veriest slave to Monks and Priests, delegates the authority of his high office to what he calls the Holy House of the inquisition. Restitution forsooth! What she would say! “God’s death,” she would exclaim, “Is the fellow a fool, to ask me for money? Let him catch Hawkins and Drake, and the rest of the freebooters himself, and take what satisfaction he can out of them.” That is pretty much what she would say. But if he should come himself to demand it, I think she would be very likely to box his Royal ears for him, and tell him to go and be hanged, as she did the stout Earl of Essex, when he had the impudence to turn his back upon her. (Laughter.)

Hawkins. This is bold advice, Drake, but I do not like the responsibility.

Drake. Responsibility! To whom? To our Queen? She will hold us responsible, only for failure in our enterprise. In plain words, for bringing home no money. Besides, she has no jurisdiction here, nor are we sailing under her flag, or the authority of a Lord High Admiral, or his Court. We Rovers sail under our own red bunting, acknowledging no Courts; and fight our way, not palter about Treaties. Law cannot defend us; should the Spaniards but get us into their clutches, would they vouchsafe to us, trial in a lawful court? No! We should have neither law nor mercy. The Inquisition! Torture! the Auto-de-fe, that is fire and faggot, would be our lot. For my part, I will acknowledge no responsibility, but to God, upon His own ocean! So long as I live, I shall consider it my best duty to him, to make war upon Spaniards, who are alike his enemies and ours. Is that monster Philip without other motive than the impulse of a cruel nature, to sit unopposed in his cabinet like a spider weaving his webs of slavery for mankind, to monopolise the earth’s surface with all the gold in its bosom, and the whole ocean as well? Why not its circumambient air, that we may ask his leave to breathe? I tell you, Hawkins, that whilst I can muster a keel, and men and Britons to man it, I shall ask no licence from mortal man; I shall boldly take my share of its wild waves, in spite of all the Despots in the world, and claim it as my patrimony from God! (He turns away in great excitement.)

The report of a solitary gun booms along the water, and cuts short the debate. They are all startled, but before there is time for utterance, it is followed by a discharge from the batteries on the island, and successive volleys from a number of Ships in the offing.

Hawkins, (in alarm), What can this mean? Those are no signal guns, no friendly salutes.

Hampton. No, General, no blank cartridges there! The report is too sharp; it has the ring of metal. We are surprised. It is time to get ready, and stand by our guns; it must be a Spanish fleet!

Hawkins. God grant it be not the outward bound fleet of Spain, we must keep them out. Get ready my pinnace! Bear a hand! We must be off to the island, and see to this. Get your ships under weigh, and stand by, to dispute the mouth of the harbour. (Exeunt.)