Elizabeth laid down her quill and indicated to her Secretary to remove the pile of documents that she had just finished signing. She rose and walked to the window but the gardens in December were bleak and dismal and she turned away. The heavy, russet taffeta of her gown rustled as she moved and the gauze veil which hung from her shoulders floated gently behind her. A small white cap bordered with pearls and emeralds covered her tightly curled hair. She was now forty-three but was still a handsome woman. A woman who carried the Burden of State with dignity, her blue eyes seeing clearly all the problems which beset her and as usual there were many.
To start with there was Ireland. “That accursed country,” she thought, “forever in a state of rebellion—their wild Chieftains determined never to submit to the rule of England.” Ireland was almost as bad as Scotland which was in a continual state of turmoil. Its King merely a boy who was a pawn in the hands of his unscrupulous Lords, while England herself was being infiltrated by the fanatical priests of the Society of Jesus—commonly known as Jesuits—whose sole purpose in life was to convert the English to Catholicism and undermine her rule. She sighed for there was trouble in Europe, too. France was still torn by clashes between Catholic and Huguenot and the power behind the throne was the devious, serpentine Queen Mother, Catherine de Medici. The rebellious Netherlands were being slowly re-captured and brought back under the control of Spain by Alexander Farnese, the Prince of Parma.
Her thoughts were interrupted by her Secretary who informed her that it was the appointed hour for her meeting with Drake.
“Send him in,” she commanded.
The man who entered and knelt before her had the weatherbeaten countenance of a sailor but was richly dressed and had the manners of a courtier.
She indicated that he might rise. “Well, sir, is all ready?”
“Yes, madam. We sail upon the thirteenth.”
“Some would say that that is a date of ill omen.”
“Perhaps, but we must sail when the tide permits.”
“Then I wish you God Speed.” She lowered her voice a little. “Should you have… trouble with the forces of His Majesty of Spain, we do not wish to be involved in the… consequences. You understand me, sir?”
His eyes sparkled speculatively. He understood her very well. If all went well she would be the first to applaud him—if not he must not look to her for help.
“Thank you, madam,” he replied gravely but a sardonic smile crossed his face. He rose and backed from her. As he reached the door she called after him.
“Take care, sir. I have a large stake in this expedition and so has my Lord of Leicester.”
Edward had said farewell to his mother and with Jane went to the nursery to take a last look at his sleeping children.
Jane quietly drew back the curtains which hung from the carved tester of the bed. He bent over the figure of his daughter and gently pushed aside a lock of the long, blonde hair and kissed her gently on the forehead.
“Farewell, Beth,” he whispered.
Martin tossed restlessly in his sleep, one hand clutching the grubby toy horse he insisted on taking to bed with him. His father looked down at him with moist eyes. “Goodbye, son,” he whispered, tucking the coverlet around him.
Jane picked the sleeping baby from his cradle and placed him in his father’s arms. “Edward, for the sake of these little ones I beg of you to take care!” All day she had dreaded this moment, praying for the strength to let him go without tears but as he stood with the baby in his arms she felt her control slipping from her.
“Edward, my love,” she whispered, “you must come home. I could not live without you!”
Gently Edward placed the baby in his cradle and took her in his arms. “I will come home, Jane,” he promised and for a few minutes they clung together, Jane sobbing quietly while Edward buried his head in the soft hair that hung in loose curls about her shoulders.
At last he unlocked her arms from around his neck. “It is time,” he said.
“I love you, Edward. I will always love you.”
“Do not come down with me,” he begged and turning quickly he left her standing by the cradle, one hand outstretched as though to catch and keep his shadow.
His father was waiting for him in the Hall.
“You have said farewell to Jane?”
Edward nodded. “Father, if… anything should happen, look after her and the children.”
“You have my word upon it,” Richard promised, embracing his son for the last time.
“Goodbye, Father,” Edward said, his voice gruff with suppressed grief. “I will return,” he promised.
Richard watched him ride away with a heavy heart. As soon as he had watched Edward’s vanishing form pass out of the courtyard he let his arm drop and walked slowly back into the Hall. He clutched the carved newel post as the spasm of pain tore through his chest. There was not much time left to him now for the pains in his chest were becoming more unbearable and it was hard to hide the fact from Margaret’s sharp eyes.
Within two months of Edward’s departure Richard Allgrave was dead.
“He knew, Jane. He knew all the time!” Margaret sobbed to her daughter-in-law after the final service had been read.
“Yet he let him go. His was the greater sacrifice,” Jane said as she tried vainly to comfort Margaret.
Edward had no idea that his family had been left without a protector. The Pelican, the Elizabeth and three other ships had set sail from England on a cold, grey December morning and had sailed to Magador. They had stayed for four weeks in the Cape Verde Islands and had then crossed the Atlantic ocean. To his shame, Edward had been seasick for a week but had gradually become used to the rolling and plunging of the wooden deck beneath him and was with Drake when land was sighted on 5th April, 1578.
“Is this the land they call America?” he asked the seasoned mariner at his side.
Drake smiled and nodded. “At least some part of it.”
They followed the coastline until they came to the mouth of a mighty river but Drake decided that too much time would be lost in exploring further. Edward was astounded at the strange trees, exotic flowers and animals that he beheld.
They continued to sail south following the coastline and before they reached the straits of Magellan, Drake put into a cove to overhaul and refit his ships for the waters ahead of him were unknown. No Englishman had ever sailed these seas before.
They set sail once more on 17th August, and on the 20th sailed into the Straits. The weather was bitterly cold and snow fell heavily, clinging to the masts and rigging and obliterating the sheer sides of the bleak, bare mountains that rose up on either side of the tiny ships.
When Edward had almost given up hope of ever seeing the sun again and had begun to doubt the wisdom of coming on this voyage they sailed out into the Pacific ocean—only to face worse weather. The pinnace had been left at Port St. Julian and the remaining ships were battered by gale force winds and pounded by gigantic seas. Their crews clawing with frost-bitten fingers to keep the sails from being torn away. In the teeth of a howling gale the cutter sank with the loss of all hands while the crew of the Pelican watched helplessly. As the fierce storm showed no sign of abating by the fifth week Edward began to fear in earnest that he would never return home.
The Pelican became separated from the Elizabeth and the captain of the Elizabeth, assuming Drake to be lost, turned and headed for home. But Drake had found shelter in Tierra del Fuego and lay at anchor awaiting better weather.
At last the storm abated and he set sail. While searching for the Elizabeth he sailed into the harbour of the Spanish settlement of Valparaiso, much to the astonishment of the small community who had never seen any ship (other than those of Spain) enter their waters.
Drake’s eyes gleamed as he caught sight of the huge galleons laying at anchor. “This is where we commence to become rich men,” he told Edward as he gave the orders to attack and board.
The Spaniards were taken completely by surprise and a few hours later the Pelican—renamed the Golden Hinde sailed out to sea with 400 lbs. of gold on board.
The silver port of Tarapaca was the next Spanish port to be surprised and relieved of most of its wealth by the English corsair and 400,000 silver ducats were added to the gold. At Arica fifty-seven blocks of silver were added and Drake headed for Lima, only to learn upon arrival that the Our Lady of the Conception had sailed a few days earlier carrying a great treasure in gold, silver and precious gems.
Hastily he hoisted his sails and gave chase. North for eight hundred miles they sailed until just off Quito the galleon was sighted. The captain of the galleon, assuming that the other ship was of Spanish origin, sailed steadily on and Drake having no wish to shatter this illusion used casks filled with water and dragged behind his ship to slow its speed.
As the sun set these casks were drawn in and emptied and the Golden Hinde sailed on until she was within hailing distance. Drake hailed the galleon but received no reply.
“Give her a broadside!” he shouted to his gunners.
The gun ports were opened and the first round brought the galleon’s mainmast crashing down onto her decks.
“Loose your arrows!” Drake roared above the noise and a deadly hail fell upon the decks of Our Lady of the Conception wounding amongst others her captain, San Juan de Anton.
The galleon was quickly boarded and San Juan taken prisoner. His cargo of twenty-six tons of silver, thirteen chests of silver coins, one hundredweight of gold and boxes of pearls, emeralds and diamonds was also taken.
The Golden Hinde continued to sail north, heavily laden and unaware that the Viceroy of New Spain had sent an urgent message to his master informing him of the piracy of the English captain. Drake calmly put into the Bay of Canoa in Southern California to refit and repair his ship and rest his crew before commencing the journey home.
Whilst Edward was marvelling at the strange new sights and contemplating his share of the treasure, the news of Drake’s deeds had reached the King of Spain. Although furious at these acts of outright piracy, Philip had his hands full trying to annex Portugal. He therefore sent Elizabeth a strong protest via his ambassador, Mendoza.
Elizabeth herself heard the news with concealed pleasure. “Take care, your Most Catholic Majesty,” she thought exultantly, “the seas do not belong to Spain alone!”
She did however put the fleet at Chatham on alert and the train bands were drilled but His Majesty of Spain’s threatened reprisal did not come.
Margaret and Jane heard the news with mixed feelings. Jane’s first thoughts had been ones of profound relief but close on the heels came doubts. Was Edward still alive? she asked herself. Only one ship remained and perhaps he could have been lost or died of fever and if he was alive they had the journey home to face. She held her children close and prayed again with the same words she uttered at least a dozen times a day.
“Dear God, keep him safe and bring him home!”
Drake sailed north looking for the northern passage but by June of 1579 with the weather becoming ever colder he gave up and made sail for the Cape of Good Hope. He landed at San Francisco and was welcomed by the native indians with whom he exchanged gifts. Edward bartered with the strange, copper-skinned savages for necklaces of strange beads for his mother and Jane. A curiously carved knife for Martin, a wooden pipe for his father, a headdress of beads and feathers for Paul and for Beth a pair of the soft, deerskin shoes worn by these people.
They set sail again for the Moluccas and at Ternate hove to to refit for Drake knew he was now in dangerous waters for reefs of coral lay beneath the clear waters. Coral which could rip the bottom out of a ship should it pass too close. Narrowly avoiding these reefs he edged his way cautiously along the coast of Java and sailed westwards through the Straits of Sundra and safely out into the ocean.
The little ship sailed on, laden with treasure, calling only at Sierra Leone for provisions and on a golden day in October, 1579 her bow cut cleanly through the blue-green waters of Plymouth Sound. The first English ship ever to circumnavigate the world!
England went wild.
The beacons were lit and churchbells rang out as Drake and his crew sailed their gallant little craft up the Thames to Deptford amidst an accompanying flotilla of craft of every description.
Elizabeth herself greeted them. Magnificent in a gown of white silk embroidered all over with pearls and gold thread and jewels. Upon her head she wore a cap heavily encrusted with gems whilst rising like the wings of a butterfly from behind her elaborate ruff, a wired gauze veil extended to the floor.
“Welcome. Your voyage has brought great fame to this realm,” she greeted her captain. “And even greater profit so I hear tell,” she finished quietly with a speculative gleam in her eye.
Turning, she drew the sword of the nearest Gentleman Pensioner and lightly touched the shoulders of the man who knelt before her. “Receive your Sovereign’s gratitude. Arise Sir Francis!” she cried.
A great reception and banquet was held on board but as soon as he could obtain leave to depart Edward was riding hell bent for home. The news of the arrival of the Golden Hinde had reached his wife and mother but they had not been able to find out for certain who apart from Drake had also returned.
As his horse clattered into the deserted courtyard, Edward sawed savagely at the bit and his mount’s hooves pawed the empty air as it came to an abrupt halt, but Edward was already out of the saddle and running towards the house.
Jane had heard the noise and was halfway down the staircase when he burst through the door. Her eyes widened for an instant and the colour drained from her cheeks and then she was running, half-falling down the stairs to fling herself with sobs of joy into her husband’s arms.