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The patience of
Boerhaave, as it was more rational, was more lasting than theirs; it
was that "patientia Christiana," which Lipsius, the great master of
the stoical philosophy, begged of God in his last hours; it was
founded on religion, not vanity, not on vain reasonings, but on
confidence in God.

In 1727, he was seized with a violent burning fever, which continued
so long, that he was once more given up by his friends.

From this time he was frequently afflicted with returns of his
distemper, which yet did not so far subdue him, as to make him lay
aside his studies or his lectures, till, in 1726, he found himself so
worn out, that it was improper for him to continue any longer the
professorships of botany or chymistry, which he, therefore, resigned,
April 28, and, upon his resignation, spoke a "Sermo academicus," or
oration, in which he asserts the power and wisdom of the creator from
the wonderful fabrick of the human body; and confutes all those idle
reasoners, who pretend to explain the formation of parts, or the
animal operations, to which he proves, that art can produce nothing
equal, nor any thing parallel. One instance I shall mention, which is
produced by him, of the vanity of any attempt to rival the work of
God. Nothing is more boasted by the admirers of chymistry, than that
they can, by artificial heats and digestion, imitate the productions
of nature. "Let all these heroes of science meet together," says
Boerhaave; "let them take bread and wine, the food that forms the
blood of man, and, by assimilation, contributes to the growth of the
body: let them try all their arts, they shall not be able, from these
materials, to produce a single drop of blood. So much is the most
common act of nature beyond the utmost efforts of the most extended
science! "

From this time Boerhaave lived with less publick employment, indeed,
but not an idle or an useless life; for, besides his hours spent in
instructing his scholars, a great part of his time was taken up by
patients, which came, when the distemper would admit it, from all
parts of Europe to consult him, or by letters which, in more urgent
cases, were continually sent to inquire his opinion and ask his
advice.

Of his sagacity, and the wonderful penetration with which he often
discovered and described, at first sight of a patient, such distempers
as betray themselves by no symptoms to common eyes, such wonderful
relations have been spread over the world, as, though attested beyond
doubt, can scarcely be credited. I mention none of them, because I
have no opportunity of collecting testimonies, or distinguishing
between those accounts which are well proved, and those which owe
their rise to fiction and credulity.

Yet I cannot but implore, with the greatest earnestness, such as have
been conversant with this great man, that they will not so far neglect
the common interest of mankind, as to suffer any of these
circumstances to be lost to posterity. Men are generally idle, and
ready to satisfy themselves, and intimidate the industry of others, by
calling that impossible which is only difficult. The skill to which
Boerhaave attained, by a long and unwearied observation of nature,
ought, therefore, to be transmitted, in all its particulars, to future
ages, that his successors may be ashamed to fall below him, and that
none may hereafter excuse his ignorance, by pleading the impossibility
of clearer knowledge.

Yet so far was this great master from presumptuous confidence in his
abilities, that, in his examinations of the sick, he was remarkably
circumstantial and particular. He well knew that the originals of
distempers are often at a distance from their visible effects; that to
conjecture, where certainty may be obtained, is either vanity or
negligence; and that life is not to be sacrificed, either to an
affectation of quick discernment, or of crowded practice, but may be
required, if trifled away, at the hand of the physician.

About the middle of the year 1737, he felt the first approaches of
that fatal illness that brought him to the grave, of which we have
inserted an account, written by himself, Sept. 8, 1738, to a friend at
London [38]; which deserves not only to be preserved, as an historical
relation of the disease which deprived us of so great a man, but as a
proof of his piety and resignation to the divine will.

In this last illness, which was, to the last degree, lingering,
painful, and afflictive, his constancy and firmness did not forsake
him. He neither intermitted the necessary cares of life, nor forgot
the proper preparations for death. Though dejection and lowness of
spirits was, as he himself tells us, part of his distemper, yet even
this, in some measure, gave way to that vigour, which the soul
receives from a consciousness of innocence.

About three weeks before his death he received a visit, at his country
house, from the reverend Mr. Schultens, his intimate friend, who found
him sitting without-door, with his wife, sister, and daughter: after
the compliments of form, the ladies withdrew, and left them to private
conversation; when Boerhaave took occasion to tell him what had been,
during his illness, the chief subject of his thoughts. He had never
doubted of the spiritual and immaterial nature of the soul; but
declared that he had lately had a kind of experimental certainty of
the distinction between corporeal and thinking substances, which mere
reason and philosophy cannot afford, and opportunities of
contemplating the wonderful and inexplicable union of soul and body,
which nothing but long sickness can give. This he illustrated by a
description of the effects which the infirmities of his body had upon
his faculties, which yet they did not so oppress or vanquish, but his
soul was always master of itself, and always resigned to the pleasure
of its maker.

He related, with great concern, that once his patience so far gave way
to extremity of pain, that, after having lain fifteen hours in
exquisite tortures, he prayed to God that he might be set free by
death.

Mr. Schultens, by way of consolation, answered, that he thought such
wishes, when forced by continued and excessive torments, unavoidable
in the present state of human nature; that the best men, even Job
himself, were not able to refrain from such starts of impatience. This
he did not deny; but said, "he that loves God, ought to think nothing
desirable, but what is most pleasing to the supreme goodness. "

Such were his sentiments, and such his conduct, in this state of
weakness and pain: as death approached nearer, he was so far from
terrour or confusion, that he seemed even less sensible of pain, and
more cheerful under his torments, which continued till the 23rd day of
September, 1738, on which he died, between four and five in the
morning, in the 70th year of his age.

Thus died Boerhaave, a man formed by nature for great designs, and
guided by religion in the exertion of his abilities. He was of a
robust and athletick constitution of body, so hardened by early
severities, and wholesome fatigue, that he was insensible of any
sharpness of air, or inclemency of weather. He was tall, and
remarkable for extraordinary strength. There was, in his air and
motion, something rough and artless, but so majestick and great, at
the same time, that no man ever looked upon him without veneration,
and a kind of tacit submission to the superiority of his genius.

The vigour and activity of his mind sparkled visibly in his eyes; nor
was it ever observed, that any change of his fortune, or alteration in
his affairs, whether happy or unfortunate, affected his countenance.

He was always cheerful, and desirous of promoting mirth by a facetious
and humorous conversation; he was never soured by calumny and
detraction, nor ever thought it necessary to confute them; "for they
are sparks," said he, "which, if you do not blow them, will go out of
themselves. "

Yet he took care never to provoke enemies by severity of censure, for
he never dwelt on the faults or defects of others, and was so far from
inflaming the envy of his rivals, by dwelling on his own excellencies,
that he rarely mentioned himself or his writings.

He was not to be overawed or depressed by the presence, frowns, or
insolence of great men, but persisted, on all occasions, in the right,
with a resolution always present and always calm. He was modest, but
not timorous, and firm without rudeness.

He could, with uncommon readiness and certainty, make a conjecture of
men's inclinations and capacity by their aspect.

His method of life was to study in the morning and evening, and to
allot the middle of the day to his publick business. His usual
exercise was riding, till, in his latter years, his distempers made it
more proper for him to walk: when he was weary, he amused himself with
playing on the violin.

His greatest pleasure was to retire to his house in the country, where
he had a garden stored with all the herbs and trees which the climate
would bear; here he used to enjoy his hours unmolested, and prosecute
his studies without interruption.

The diligence with which he pursued his studies, is sufficiently
evident from his success. Statesmen and generals may grow great by
unexpected accidents, and a fortunate concurrence of circumstances,
neither procured nor foreseen by themselves; but reputation in the
learned world must be the effect of industry and capacity. Boerhaave
lost none of his hours, but, when he had attained one science,
attempted another; he added physick to divinity, chymistry to the
mathematicks, and anatomy to botany. He examined systems by
experiments, and formed experiments into systems. He neither neglected
the observations of others, nor blindly submitted to celebrated names.
He neither thought so highly of himself, as to imagine he could
receive no light from books, nor so meanly, as to believe he could
discover nothing but what was to be learned from them. He examined the
observations of other men, but trusted only to his own.

Nor was he unacquainted with the art of recommending truth by
elegance, and embellishing the philosopher with polite literature: he
knew that but a small part of mankind will sacrifice their pleasure to
their improvement, and those authors who would find many readers, must
endeavour to please while they instruct.

He knew the importance of his own writings to mankind, and lest he
might, by a roughness and barbarity of style, too frequent among men
of great learning, disappoint his own intentions, and make his labours
less useful, he did not neglect the politer arts of eloquence and
poetry. Thus was his learning, at once, various and exact, profound
and agreeable.

But his knowledge, however uncommon, holds, in his character, but the
second place; his virtue was yet much more uncommon than his learning.
He was an admirable example of temperance, fortitude, humility, and
devotion. His piety, and a religious sense of his dependance on God,
was the basis of all his virtues, and the principle of his whole
conduct. He was too sensible of his weakness to ascribe any thing to
himself, or to conceive that he could subdue passion, or withstand
temptation, by his own natural power; he attributed every good
thought, and every laudable action, to the father of goodness. Being
once asked by a friend, who had often admired his patience under great
provocations, whether he knew what it was to be angry, and by what
means he had so entirely suppressed that impetuous and ungovernable
passion, he answered, with the utmost frankness and sincerity, that he
was naturally quick of resentment, but that he had, by daily prayer
and meditation, at length attained to this mastery over himself.

As soon as he arose in the morning, it was, throughout his whole life,
his daily practice to retire for an hour to private prayer and
meditation; this, he often told his friends, gave him spirit and
vigour in the business of the day, and this he, therefore, commended,
as the best rule of life; for nothing, he knew, could support the
soul, in all distresses, but a confidence in the supreme being; nor
can a steady and rational magnanimity flow from any other source than
a consciousness of the divine favour.

He asserted, on all occasions, the divine authority and sacred
efficacy of the holy scriptures; and maintained that they alone taught
the way of salvation, and that they only could give peace of mind. The
excellency of the Christian religion was the frequent subject of his
conversation. A strict obedience to the doctrine, and a diligent
imitation of the example of our blessed saviour, he often declared to
be the foundation of true tranquillity. He recommended to his friends
a careful observation of the precept of Moses, concerning the love of
God and man. He worshipped God as he is in himself, without attempting
to inquire into his nature. He desired only to think of God, what God
knows of himself. There he stopped, lest, by indulging his own ideas,
he should form a deity from his own imagination, and sin by falling
down before him. To the will of God he paid an absolute submission,
without endeavouring to discover the reason of his determinations; and
this he accounted the first and most inviolable duty of a Christian.
When he heard of a criminal condemned to die, he used to think: Who
can tell whether this man is not better than I? or, if I am better, it
is not to be ascribed to myself, but to the goodness of God.

Such were the sentiments of Boerhaave, whose words we have added in
the note [39]. So far was this man from being made impious by
philosophy, or vain by knowledge, or by virtue, that he ascribed all
his abilities to the bounty, and all his goodness to the grace of God.
May his example extend its influence to his admirers and followers!
May those who study his writings imitate his life! and those who
endeavour after his knowledge, aspire likewise to his piety!

He married, September 17, 1710, Mary Drolenveaux, the only daughter of
a burgomaster of Leyden, by whom he had Joanna Maria, who survived her
father, and three other children, who died in their infancy. The works
of this great writer are so generally known, and so highly esteemed,
that, though it may not be improper to enumerate them in the order of
time, in which they were published, it is wholly unnecessary to give
any other account of them.

He published, in 1707, Institutiones medicae; to which he added, in
1708, Aphorismi de cognoscendis et curandis morbis.

1710, Index stirpium in horto academico.

1719, De materia medica, et remediorum formulis liber; and, in 1727, a
second edition.

1720, Alter index stirpium, &c. adorned with plates, and containing
twice the number of plants as the former.

1722, Epistola ad cl. Ruischium, qua sententiam Malpighianam de
glandulis defendit.

1724, Atrocis nee prius descripti morbi historia illustrissimi baronis
Wassenariae.

1725, Opera anatomica et chirurgica Andreae Vesalii; with the life of
Vesalius.

1728, Altera atrocis rarissimique morbi marchionis de Sancto Albano
historia.

Auctores de lue Aphrodisiaca, cum tractatu praefixo.

1731, Aretaei Cappadocis nova editio.

1732, Elementa Chemiae.

1734, Observata de argento vivo, ad Reg. Soc. et Acad. Scient.

These are the writings of the great Boerhaave, which have made all
encomiums useless and vain, since no man can attentively peruse them,
without admiring the abilities, and reverencing the virtue of the
author. [40]




BLAKE.


At a time when a nation is engaged in a war with an enemy, whose
insults, ravages, and barbarities have long called for vengeance, an
account of such English commanders as have merited the acknowledgments
of posterity, by extending the powers, and raising the honour of their
country, seems to be no improper entertainment for our readers [41].
We shall, therefore, attempt a succinct narration of the life and
actions of admiral Blake, in which we have nothing further in view,
than to do justice to his bravery and conduct, without intending any
parallel between his achievements, and those of our present admirals.

Robert Blake was born at Bridgewater, in Somersetshire, in August,
1598; his father being a merchant of that place, who had acquired a
considerable fortune by the Spanish trade. Of his earliest years we
have no account, and, therefore, can amuse the reader with none of
those prognosticks of his future actions, so often met with in
memoirs.

In 1615, he entered into the university of Oxford, where he continued
till 1623, though without being much countenanced or caressed by his
superiours, for he was more than once disappointed in his endeavours
after academical preferments. It is observable, that Mr. Wood, in his
Athenæ Oxonieuses, ascribes the repulse he met with at Wadham college,
where he was competitor for a fellowship, either to want of learning,
or of stature. With regard to the first objection, the same writer had
before informed us, that he was an early riser and studious, though he
sometimes relieved his attention by the amusements of fowling and
fishing. As it is highly probable that he did not want capacity, we
may, therefore, conclude, upon this confession of his diligence, that
he could not fail of being learned, at least, in the degree requisite
to the enjoyment of a fellowship; and may safely ascribe his
disappointment to his want of stature, it being the custom of sir
Henry Savil [42], then warden of that college, to pay much regard to
the outward appearance of those who solicited preferment in that
society. So much do the greatest events owe sometimes to accident or
folly!

He afterwards retired to his native place, where "he lived," says
Clarendon, "without any appearance of ambition to be a greater man
than he was, but inveighed with great freedom against the license of
the times, and power of the court. "

In 1640, he was chosen burgess for Bridgewater by the puritan party,
to whom he had recommended himself by the disapprobation of bishop
Laud's violence and severity, and his non-compliance with those new
ceremonies, which he was then endeavouring to introduce.

When the civil war broke out, Blake, in conformity with his avowed
principles, declared for the parliament; and, thinking a bare
declaration for right not all the duty of a good man, raised a troop
of dragoons for his party, and appeared in the field with so much
bravery, that he was, in a short time, advanced, without meeting any
of those obstructions which he had encountered in the university.

In 1645, he was governour of Tauntou, when the lord Goring came before
it with an army of ten thousand men. The town was ill fortified, and
unsupplied with almost every thing necessary for supporting a siege.
The state of this garrison encouraged colonel Windham, who was
acquainted with Blake, to propose a capitulation, which was rejected
by Blake, with indignation and contempt; nor were either menaces or
persuasions of any effect, for he maintained the place, under all its
disadvantages, till the siege was raised by the parliament's army.

He continued, on many other occasions, to give proofs of an
insuperable courage, and a steadiness of resolution not to be shaken;
and, as a proof of his firm adherence to the parliament, joined with
the borough of Taunton, in returning thanks for their resolution to
make no more addresses to the king. Yet was he so far from approving
the death of Charles the first, that he made no scruple of declaring,
that he would venture his life to save him, as willingly as he had
done to serve the parliament.

In February, 1648-9, he was made a commissioner of the navy, and
appointed to serve on that element, for which he seems by nature to
have been designed. He was soon afterwards sent in pursuit of prince
Rupert, whom he shut up in the harbour of Kinsale, in Ireland, for
several months, till want of provisions, and despair of relief,
excited the prince to make a daring effort for his escape, by forcing
through the parliament's fleet: this design he executed with his usual
intrepidity, and succeeded in it, though with the loss of three ships.
He was pursued by Blake to the coast of Portugal, where he was
received into the Tagus, and treated with great distinction by the
Portuguese.

Blake, coming to the mouth of that river, sent to the king a
messenger, to inform him, that the fleet, in his port, belonging to
the publick enemies of the commonwealth of England, he demanded leave
to fall upon it. This being refused, though the refusal was in very
soft terms, and accompanied with declarations of esteem, and a present
of provisions, so exasperated the admiral, that, without any
hesitation, he fell upon the Portuguese fleet, then returning from
Brasil, of which he took seventeen ships, and burnt three. It was to
no purpose that the king of Portugal, alarmed at so unexpected a
destruction, ordered prince Rupert to attack him, and retake the
Brasil ships. Blake carried home his prizes without molestation, the
prince not having force enough to pursue him, and well pleased with
the opportunity of quitting a port, where he could no longer be
protected.

Blake soon supplied his fleet with provision, and received orders to
make reprisals upon the French, who had suffered their privateers to
molest the English trade; an injury which, in those days, was always
immediately resented, and if not repaired, certainly punished. Sailing
with this commission, he took in his way a French man of war, valued
at a million. How this ship happened to be so rich, we are not
informed; but as it was a cruiser, it is probable the rich lading was
the accumulated plunder of many prizes. Then following the unfortunate
Rupert, whose fleet, by storms and battles, was now reduced to five
ships, into Carthagena, he demanded leave of the Spanish governour to
attack him in the harbour, but received the same answer which had been
returned before by the Portuguese: "That they had a right to protect
all ships that came into their dominions; that, if the admiral were
forced in thither, he should find the same security; and that he
required him not to violate the peace of a neutral port. " Blake
withdrew, upon this answer, into the Mediterranean; and Rupert, then
leaving Carthagena, entered the port of Malaga, where he burnt and
sunk several English merchant ships. Blake, judging this to be an
infringement of the neutrality professed by the Spaniards, now made no
scruple to fall upon Rupert's fleet in the harbour of Malaga, and,
having destroyed three of his ships, obliged him to quit the sea, and
take sanctuary at the Spanish court.

In February, 1650-1, Blake, still continuing to cruise in the
Mediterranean, met a French ship of considerable force, and commanded
the captain to come on board, there being no war declared between the
two nations. The captain, when he came, was asked by him, "whether he
was willing to lay down his sword, and yield," which he gallantly
refused, though in his enemy's power. Blake, scorning to take
advantage of an artifice, and detesting the appearance of treachery,
told him, "that he was at liberty to go back to his ship, and defend
it, as long as he could. " The captain willingly accepted his offer,
and, after a fight of two hours, confessed himself conquered, kissed
his sword, and surrendered it.

In 1652, broke out the memorable war between the two commonwealths of
England and Holland; a war, in which the greatest admirals that,
perhaps, any age has produced, were engaged on each side; in which
nothing less was contested than the dominion of the sea, and which was
carried on with vigour, animosity, and resolution, proportioned to the
importance of the dispute. The chief commanders of the Dutch fleets
were Van Trump, De Ruyter, and De Witt, the most celebrated names of
their own nation, and who had been, perhaps, more renowned, had they
been opposed by any other enemies. The states of Holland, having
carried on their trade without opposition, and almost without
competition, not only during the unactive reign of James the first,
but during the commotions of England, had arrived to that height of
naval power, and that affluence of wealth, that, with the arrogance
which a long-continued prosperity naturally produces, they began to
invent new claims, and to treat other nations with insolence, which
nothing can defend, but superiority of force. They had for some time
made uncommon preparations, at a vast expense, and had equipped a
large fleet, without any apparent danger threatening them, or any
avowed design of attacking their neighbours. This unusual armament was
not beheld by the English without some jealousy, and care was taken to
fit out such a fleet as might secure the trade from interruption, and
the coasts from insults; of this Blake was constituted admiral for
nine months. In this situation the two nations remained, keeping a
watchful eye upon each other, without acting hostilities on either
side, till the 18th of May, 1652, when Van Trump appeared in the
Downs, with a fleet of forty-five men of war. Blake, who had then but
twenty ships, upon the approach of the Dutch admiral, saluted him with
three single shots, to require that he should, by striking his flag,
show that respect to the English, which is due to every nation in
their own dominions; to which the Dutchman answered with a broadside;
and Blake, perceiving that he intended to dispute the point of honour,
advanced with his own ship before the rest of his fleet, that, if it
were possible, a general battle might be prevented. But the Dutch,
instead of admitting him to treat, fired upon him from their whole
fleet, without any regard to the customs of war, or the law of
nations. Blake, for some time, stood alone against their whole force,
till the rest of his squadron coming up, the fight was continued from
between four and five in the afternoon, till nine at night, when the
Dutch retired with the loss of two ships, having not destroyed a
single vessel, nor more than fifteen men, most of which were on board
the admiral, who, as he wrote to the parliament, was himself engaged
for four hours with the main body of the Dutch fleet, being the mark
at which they aimed; and, as Whitlock relates, received above a
thousand shot. Blake, in his letter, acknowledges the particular
blessing and preservation of God, and ascribes his success to the
justice of his cause, the Dutch having first attacked him upon the
English coast. It is, indeed, little less than miraculous, that a
thousand great shot should not do more execution; and those who will
not admit the interposition of providence, may draw, at least, this
inference from it, that the bravest man is not always in the greatest
danger.

In July, he met the Dutch fishery fleet, with a convoy of twelve men
of war, all which he took, with one hundred of their herring-busses.
And, in September, being stationed in the Downs, with about sixty
sail, he discovered the Dutch admirals, De Witt and De Ruyter, with
near the same number, and advanced towards them; but the Dutch being
obliged, by the nature of their coast, and shallowness of their
rivers, to build their ships in such a manner, that they require less
depth of water than the English vessels, took advantage of the form of
their shipping, and sheltered themselves behind a flat, called Kentish
Knock; so that the English, finding some of their ships aground, were
obliged to alter their course; but perceiving, early the next morning,
that the Hollanders had forsaken their station, they pursued them with
all the speed that the wind, which was weak and uncertain, allowed,
but found themselves unable to reach them with the bulk of their
fleet, and, therefore, detached some of the lightest frigates to chase
them. These came so near, as to fire upon them about three in the
afternoon; but the Dutch, instead of tacking about, hoisted their
sails, steered toward their own coast, and finding themselves, the
next day, followed by the whole English fleet, retired into Goree. The
sailors were eager to attack them in their own harbours; but a council
of war being convened, it was judged imprudent to hazard the fleet
upon the shoals, or to engage in any important enterprise, without a
fresh supply of provisions.

That, in this engagement, the victory belonged to the English, is
beyond dispute, since, without the loss of one ship, and with no more
than forty men killed, they drove the enemy into their own ports, took
the rearadmiral and another vessel, and so discouraged the Dutch
admirals, who had not agreed in their measures, that De Ruyter, who
had declared against hazarding a battle, desired to resign his
commission, and De Witt, who had insisted upon fighting, fell sick, as
it was supposed, with vexation. But how great the loss of the Dutch
was is not certainly known; that two ships were taken, they are too
wise to deny, but affirm that those two were all that were destroyed.
The English, on the other side, affirm, that three of their vessels
were disabled at the first encounter, that their numbers on the second
day were visibly diminished, and that on the last day they saw three
or four ships sink in their flight.

De Witt being now discharged by the Hollanders, as unfortunate, and
the chief command restored to Van Trump, great preparations were made
for retrieving their reputation, and repairing those losses. Their
endeavours were assisted by the English themselves, now made factious
by success; the men, who were intrusted with the civil administration,
being jealous of those whose military commands had procured so much
honour, lest they who raised them should be eclipsed by them. Such is
the general revolution of affairs in every state; danger and distress
produce unanimity and bravery, virtues which are seldom unattended
with success; but success is the parent of pride, and pride of
jealousy and faction; faction makes way for calamity, and happy is
that nation whose calamities renew their unanimity. Such is the
rotation of interests, that equally tend to hinder the total
destruction of a people, and to obstruct an exorbitant increase of
power.

Blake had weakened his fleet by many detachments, and lay with no more
than forty sail in the Downs, very ill provided both with men and
ammunition, and expecting new supplies from those whose animosity
hindered them from providing them, and who chose rather to see the
trade of their country distressed, than the sea officers exalted by a
new acquisition of honour and influence.

Van Trump, desirous of distinguishing himself, at the resumption of
his command, by some remarkable action, had assembled eighty ships of
war, and ten fireships, and steered towards the Downs, where Blake,
with whose condition and strength he was probably acquainted, was then
stationed. Blake, not able to restrain his natural ardour, or,
perhaps, not fully informed of the superiority of his enemies, put out
to encounter them, though his fleet was so weakly manned, that half of
his ships were obliged to lie idle without engaging, for want of
sailors. The force of the whole Dutch fleet was, therefore, sustained
by about twenty-two ships. Two of the English frigates, named the
Vanguard and the Victory, after having, for a long time, stood engaged
amidst the whole Dutch fleet, broke through without much injury, nor
did the English lose any ships till the evening, when the Garland,
carrying forty guns, was boarded, at once, by two great ships, which
were opposed by the English, till they had scarcely any men left to
defend the decks; then retiring into the lower part of the vessel,
they blew up their decks, which were now possessed by the enemy, and,
at length, were overpowered and taken. The Bonaventure, a stout
well-built merchant ship, going to relieve the Garland, was attacked
by a man of war, and, after a stout resistance, in which the captain,
who defended her with the utmost bravery, was killed, was likewise
carried off by the Dutch. Blake, in the Triumph, seeing the Garland in
distress, pressed forward to relieve her, but in his way had his
foremast shattered, and was himself boarded; but, beating off the
enemies, he disengaged himself, and retired into the Thames, with the
loss only of two ships of force, and four small frigates, but with his
whole fleet much shattered. Nor was the victory gained at a cheap
rate, notwithstanding the unusual disproportion of strength; for of
the Dutch flagships, one was blown up, and the other two disabled; a
proof of the English bravery, which should have induced Van Trump to
have spared the insolence of carrying a broom at his top-mast, in his
triumphant passage through the Channel, which he intended as a
declaration, that he would sweep the seas of the English shipping;
this, which he had little reason to think of accomplishing, he soon
after perished in attempting.

There are, sometimes, observations and inquiries, which all historians
seem to decline by agreement, of which this action may afford us an
example: nothing appears, at the first view, more to demand our
curiosity, or afford matter for examination, than this wild encounter
of twenty-two ships, with a force, according to their accounts who
favour the Dutch, three times superiour. Nothing can justify a
commander in fighting under such disadvantages, but the impossibility
of retreating. But what hindered Blake from retiring, as well before
the fight, as after it? To say he was ignorant of the strength of the
Dutch fleet, is to impute to him a very criminal degree of negligence;
and, at least, it must be confessed, that from the time he saw them,
he could not but know that they were too powerful to be opposed by
him, and even then there was time for retreat. To urge the ardour of
his sailors, is to divest him of the authority of a commander, and to
charge him with the most reproachful weakness that can enter into the
character of a general. To mention the impetuosity of his own courage,
is to make the blame of his temerity equal to the praise of his
valour; which seems, indeed, to be the most gentle censure that the
truth of history will allow. We must then admit, amidst our eulogies
and applauses, that the great, the wise, and the valiant Blake, was
once betrayed to an inconsiderate and desperate enterprise, by the
resistless ardour of his own spirit, and a noble jealousy of the
honour of his country.

It was not long, before he had an opportunity of revenging his loss,
and restraining the insolence of the Dutch. On the 18th of February,
1652-3, Blake, being at the head of eighty sail, and assisted, at his
own request, by colonels Monk and Dean, espied Van Trump, with a fleet
of above one hundred men of war, as Clarendon relates, of seventy by
their own publick accounts, and three hundred merchant ships under his
convoy. The English, with their usual intrepidity, advanced towards
them; and Blake, in the Triumph, in which he always led his fleet,
with twelve ships more, came to an engagement with the main body of
the Dutch fleet, and by the disparity of their force was reduced to
the last extremity, having received in his hull no fewer than seven
hundred shots, when Lawson, in the Fairfax, came to his assistance.
The rest of the English fleet now came in, and the fight was continued
with the utmost degree of vigour and resolution, till the night gave
the Dutch an opportunity of retiring, with the loss of one flagship,
and six other men of war. The English had many vessels damaged, but
none lost. On board Lawson's ship were killed one hundred men, and as
many on board Blake's, who lost his captain and secretary, and himself
received a wound in the thigh.

Blake, having set ashore his wounded men, sailed in pursuit of Van
Trump, who sent his convoy before, and himself retired fighting
towards Bulloign. Blake ordered his light frigates to follow the
merchants; still continued to harass Van Trump; and, on the third day,
the 20th of February, the two fleets came to another battle, in which
Van Trump once more retired before the English, and, making use of the
peculiar form of his shipping, secured himself in the shoals. The
accounts of this fight, as of all the others, are various; but the
Dutch writers themselves confess, that they lost eight men of war, and
more than twenty merchant ships; and, it is probable, that they
suffered much more than they are willing to allow, for these repeated
defeats provoked the common people to riots and insurrections, and
obliged the states to ask, though ineffectually, for peace.

In April following, the form of government in England was changed, and
the supreme authority assumed by Cromwell; upon which occasion Blake,
with his associates, declared that, notwithstanding the change in the
administration, they should still be ready to discharge their trust,
and to defend the nation from insults, injuries, and encroachments.
"It is not," said Blake, "the business of a sea-man to mind state
affairs, but to hinder foreigners from fooling us. " This was the
principle from which he never deviated, and which he always
endeavoured to inculcate in the fleet, as the surest foundation of
unanimity and steadiness. "Disturb not one another with domestick
disputes, but remember that we are English, and our enemies are
foreigners. Enemies! which, let what party soever prevail, it is
equally the interest of our country to humble and restrain. "

After the 30th of April, 1653, Blake, Monk, and Dean sailed out of the
English harbours with one hundred men of war, and finding the Dutch
with seventy sail on their own coasts, drove them to the Texel, and
took fifty doggers. Then they sailed northward in pursuit of Van
Trump, who, having a fleet of merchants under his convoy, durst not
enter the Channel, but steered towards the Sound, and, by great
dexterity and address, escaped the three English admirals, and
brought all his ships into their harbour; then, knowing that Blake was
still in the north, came before Dover, and fired upon that town, but
was driven off by the castle.

Monk and Dean stationed themselves again at the mouth of the Texel,
and blocked up the Dutch in their own ports with eighty sail; but
hearing that Van Trump was at Goree, with one hundred and twenty men
of war, they ordered all ships of force in the river and ports to
repair to them.

On June the 3rd, the two fleets came to an engagement, in the
beginning of which Dean was carried off by a cannon-ball; yet the
fight continued from about twelve to six in the afternoon, when the
Dutch gave way, and retreated fighting.

On the 4th, in the afternoon, Blake came up with eighteen fresh ships,
and procured the English a complete victory; nor could the Dutch any
otherwise preserve their ships than by retiring, once more, into the
flats and shallows, where the largest of the English vessels could not
approach.

In this battle Van Trump boarded viceadmiral Penn; but was beaten off,
and himself boarded, and reduced to blow up his decks, of which the
English had got possession. He was then entered, at once, by Penn and
another; nor could possibly have escaped, had not De Ruyter and De
Witt arrived at that instant, and rescued him.

However the Dutch may endeavour to extenuate their loss in this
battle, by admitting no more than eight ships to have been taken or
destroyed, it is evident that they must have received much greater
damages, not only by the accounts of more impartial historians, but by
the remonstrances and exclamations of their admirals themselves; Van
Trump declaring before the states, that "without a numerous
reinforcement of large men of war, he could serve them no more;" and
De Witt crying out before them, with the natural warmth of his
character: "Why should I be silent before my lords and masters? The
English are our masters, and by consequence masters of the sea. "

In November, 1654, Blake was sent by Cromwell into the Mediterranean,
with a powerful fleet, and may be said to have received the homage of
all that part of the world, being equally courted by the haughty
Spaniards, the surly Dutch, and the lawless Algerines.

In March, 1656, having forced Algiers to submission, he entered the
harbour of Tunis, and demanded reparation for the robberies practised
upon the English by the pirates of that place, and insisted that the
captives of his nation should be set at liberty. The governour, having
planted batteries along the shore, and drawn up his ships under the
castles, sent Blake an haughty and insolent answer: "there are our
castles of Goletta and Porto Ferino," said he, "upon which you may do
your worst;" adding other menaces and insults, and mentioning, in
terms of ridicule, the inequality of a fight between ships and
castles. Blake had, likewise, demanded leave to take in water, which
was refused him. Fired with this inhuman and insolent treatment, he
curled his whiskers, as was his custom when he was angry, and,
entering Porto Ferino with his great ships, discharged his shot so
fast upon the batteries and castles, that in two hours the guns were
dismounted, and the works forsaken, though he was, at first, exposed
to the fire of sixty cannon. He then ordered his officers to send out
their long boats, well manned, to seize nine of the piratical ships
lying in the road, himself continuing to fire upon the castle. This
was so bravely executed, that, with the loss of only twenty-five men
killed, and forty-eight wounded, all the ships were fired in the sight
of Tunis. Thence sailing to Tripoli, he concluded a peace with that
nation; then returning to Tunis, he found nothing but submission. And
such, indeed, was his reputation, that he met with no further
opposition, but collected a kind of tribute from the princes of those
countries, his business being to demand reparation for all the
injuries offered to the English during the civil wars. He exacted from
the duke of Tuscany 60,000_l_.
and, as it is said, sent home
sixteen ships laden with the effects which he had received from
several states.

The respect with which he obliged all foreigners to treat his
countrymen, appears from a story related by bishop Burnet. When he lay
before Malaga, in a time of peace with Spain, some of his sailors went
ashore, and meeting a procession of the host, not only refused to pay
any respect to it, but laughed at those that did. The people, being
put, by one of the priests, upon resenting this indignity, fell upon
them and beat them severely. When they returned to their ship, they
complained of their ill treatment; upon which Blake sent to demand the
priest who had procured it. The viceroy answered that, having no
authority over the priests, he could not send him: to which Blake
replied, "that he did not inquire into the extent of the viceroy's
authority, but that, if the priest were not sent within three hours,
he would burn the town. " The viceroy then sent the priest to him, who
pleaded the provocation given by the seamen. Blake bravely and
rationally answered, that if he had complained to him, he would have
punished them severely, for he would not have his men affront the
established religion of any place; but that he was angry that the
Spaniards should assume that power, for he would have all the world
know, "that an Englishman was only to be punished by an Englishman. "
So, having used the priest civilly, he sent him back, being satisfied
that he was in his power. This conduct so much pleased Cromwell, that
he read the letter in council with great satisfaction, and said, "he
hoped to make the name of an Englishman as great as ever that of a
Roman had been. "

In 1650, the protector, having declared war against Spain, despatched
Blake, with twenty-five men of war, to infest their coasts, and
intercept their shipping. In pursuance of these orders he cruised all
winter about the straits, and then lay at the mouth of the harbour of
Cales, where he received intelligence, that the Spanish Plata fleet
lay at anchor in the bay of Santa Cruz, in the isle of Teneriffe. On
the 13th of April, 1657, he departed from Cales, and, on the 20th,
arrived at Santa Cruz, where he found sixteen Spanish vessels. The bay
was defended on the north side by a castle, well mounted with cannon,
and in other parts with seven forts, with cannon proportioned to the
bigness, all united by a line of communication manned with musketeers.
The Spanish admiral drew up his small ships under the cannon of the
castle, and stationed six great galleons with their broadsides to the
sea: an advantageous and prudent disposition, but of little effect
against the English commander; who, determining to attack them,
ordered Stayner to enter the bay with his squadron: then posting some
of his larger ships to play upon the fortifications, himself attacked
the galleons, which, after a gallant resistance, were, at length,
abandoned by the Spaniards, though the least of them was bigger than
the biggest of Blake's ships. The forts and smaller vessels being now
shattered and forsaken, the whole fleet was set on fire, the galleons
by Blake, and the smaller vessels by Stayner, the English vessels
being too much shattered in the fight to bring them away. Thus was the
whole Plata fleet destroyed, "and the Spaniards," according to Rapin's
remark, "sustained a great loss of ships, money, men, and merchandise,
while the English gained nothing but glory;" as if he that increases
the military reputation of a people, did not increase their power, and
he that weakens his enemy, in effect, strengthens himself.

"The whole action," says Clarendon, "was so incredible, that all men,
who knew the place, wondered that any sober man, with what courage
soever endowed, would ever have undertaken it, and they could hardly
persuade themselves to believe what they had done; while the Spaniards
comforted themselves with the belief, that they were devils, and not
men, who had destroyed them in such a manner. So much a strong
resolution of bold and courageous men can bring to pass, that no
resistance or advantage of ground can disappoint them; and it can
hardly be imagined bow small a loss the English sustained in this
unparalleled action, not one ship being left behind, and the killed
and wounded not exceeding two hundred men; when the slaughter, on
board the Spanish ships and on shore, was incredible. " The general
cruised, for some time afterwards, with his victorious fleet, at the
mouth of Cales, to intercept the Spanish shipping; but, finding his
constitution broken, by the fatigue of the last three years,
determined to return home, and died before he came to land.

His body was embalmed, and having lain some time in state at Greenwich
house, was buried in Henry the seventh's chapel, with all the funeral
solemnity due to the remains of a man so famed for his bravery, and so
spotless in his integrity; nor is it without regret, that I am obliged
to relate the treatment his body met, a year after the restoration,
when it was taken up by express command, and buried in a pit in St.
Margaret's church-yard. Had he been guilty of the murder of Charles
the first, to insult his body had been a mean revenge; but, as he was
innocent, it was, at least, inhumanity, and, perhaps, ingratitude.
"Let no man," says the oriental proverb, "pull a dead lion by the
beard. "

But that regard which was denied his body, has been paid to his better
remains, his name and his memory. Nor has any writer dared to deny him
the praise of intrepidity, honesty, contempt of wealth, and love of
his country. "He was the first man," says Clarendon, "that declined
the old track, and made it apparent that the sciences might be
attained in less time than was imagined. He was the first man that
brought ships to contemn castles on shore, which had ever been thought
very formidable, but were discovered by him to make a noise only, and
to fright those who could rarely be hurt by them. He was the first
that infused that proportion of courage into seamen, by making them
see, by experience, what mighty things they could do, if they were
resolved; and taught them to fight in fire, as well as upon the water;
and, though he has been very well imitated and followed, was the first
that gave the example of that kind of naval courage, and bold and
resolute achievements. "

To this attestation of his military excellence, it may be proper to
subjoin an account of his moral character, from the author of Lives,
English and Foreign. "He was jealous," says that writer, "of the
liberty of the subject, and the glory of his nation; and as he made
use of no mean artifices to raise himself to the highest command at
sea, so he needed no interest but his merit to support him in it. He
scorned nothing more than money, which, as fast as it came in, was
laid out by him in the service of the state, and to show that he was
animated by that brave, publick spirit, which has since been reckoned
rather romantick than heroick. And he was so disinterested, that
though no man had more opportunities to enrich himself than he, who
had taken so many millions from the enemies of England, yet he threw
it all into the publick treasury, and did not die five hundred pounds
richer than his father left him; which the author avers, from his
personal knowledge of his family and their circumstances, having been
bred up in it, and often heard his brother give this account of him.
He was religious, according to the pretended purity of these times,
but would frequently allow himself to be merry with his officers, and,
by his tenderness and generosity to the seamen, had so endeared
himself to them, that, when he died, they lamented his loss, as that
of a common father. "

Instead of more testimonies, his character may be properly concluded
with one incident of his life, by which it appears how much the spirit
of Blake was superiour to all private views. His brother, in the last
action with the Spaniards, having not done his duty, was, at Blake's
desire, discarded, and the ship was given to another; yet was he not
less regardful of him as a brother, for, when he died, he left him his
estate, knowing him well qualified to adorn or enjoy a private
fortune, though he had found him unfit to serve his country in a
publick character, and had, therefore, not suffered him to rob it.

* * * * *

The following brief synopsis of Blake's life, differing, in some
slight particulars, from Johnson's memoir, is taken from Aubrey's
Letters, ii. p. 241.

ADMIRALL BLAKE.

Was borne at . . . in com. Somerset, was of Albon hall, in Oxford. He
was there a young man of strong body, and good parts. He was an early
riser, and studyed well, but also took his robust pleasures of fishing
and fowling, &c. He would steale swannes [43]--He served in the house
of comons for. . . . A°. Dni . . . he was made admiral! He did the greatest
actions at sea that ever were done. He died A°. Dni . . . and was buried
in K. H. 7th's chapell; but upon the returne of the kinge, his body was
taken up again and removed by Mr. Wells' occasion, and where it is
now, I know not. Qu. Mr. Wells of Bridgewater? --Ed.




SIR FRANCIS DRAKE [44].


Francis Drake was the son of a clergyman, in Devonshire, who being
inclined to the doctrine of the protestants, at that time much opposed
by Henry the eighth, was obliged to fly from his place of residence
into Kent, for refuge, from the persecution raised against him, and
those of the same opinion, by the law of the six articles.

How long he lived there, or how he was supported, was not known; nor
have we any account of the first years of sir Francis Drake's life, of
any disposition to hazards and adventures which might have been
discovered in his childhood, or of the education which qualified him
for such wonderful attempts.

We are only informed, that he was put apprentice, by his father, to
the master of a small vessel, that traded to France and the Low
Countries, under whom he, probably, learned the rudiments of
navigation, and familiarized himself to the dangers and hardships of
the sea.

But how few opportunities soever he might have, in this part of his
life, for the exercise of his courage, he gave so many proofs of
diligence and fidelity, that his master, dying unmarried, left him his
little vessel, in reward of his services; a circumstance that deserves
to be remembered, not only as it may illustrate the private character
of this brave man, but as it may hint, to all those, who may hereafter
propose his conduct for their imitation, that virtue is the surest
foundation both of reputation and fortune, and that the first step to
greatness is to be honest.

If it were not improper to dwell longer on an incident, at the first
view so inconsiderable, it might be added, that it deserves the
reflection of those, who, when they are engaged in affairs not
adequate to their abilities, pass them over with a contemptuous
neglect, and while they amuse themselves with chimerical schemes, and
plans of future undertakings, suffer every opportunity of smaller
advantage to slip away, as unworthy their regard. They may learn, from
the example of Drake, that diligence in employments of less
consequence, is the most successful introduction to greater
enterprises.

After having followed, for some time, his master's profession, he grew
weary of so narrow a province, and, having sold his little vessel,
ventured his effects in the new trade to the West Indies, which,
having not been long discovered, and very little frequented by the
English, till that time, were conceived so much to abound in wealth,
that no voyage thither could fail of being recompensed by great
advantages. Nothing was talked of among the mercantile or adventurous
part of mankind, but the beauty and riches of the new world. Fresh
discoveries were frequently made, new countries and nations never
heard of before, were daily described, and it may easily be concluded,
that the relaters did not diminish the merit of their attempts, by
suppressing or diminishing any circumstance that might produce wonder,
or excite curiosity. Nor was their vanity only engaged in raising
admirers, but their interest, likewise, in procuring adventurers, who
were, indeed, easily gained by the hopes which naturally arise from
new prospects, though, through ignorance of the American seas, and by
the malice of the Spaniards, who, from the first discovery of those
countries, considered every other nation that attempted to follow
them, as invaders of their rights, the best concerted designs often
miscarried.

Among those who suffered most from the Spanish injustice, was captain
John Hawkins, who, having been admitted, by the viceroy, to traffick
in the bay of Mexico, was, contrary to the stipulation then made
between them, and in violation of the peace between Spain and England,
attacked without any declaration of hostilities, and obliged, after an
obstinate resistance, to retire with the loss of four ships, and a
great number of his men, who were either destroyed or carried into
slavery.

In this voyage Drake had adventured almost all his fortune, which he
in vain endeavoured to recover, both by his own private interest, and
by obtaining letters from queen Elizabeth; for the Spaniards, deaf to
all remonstrances, either vindicated the injustice of the viceroy, or,
at least, forbore to redress it.

Drake, thus oppressed and impoverished, retained, at least, his
courage and his industry, that ardent spirit that prompted him to
adventures, and that indefatigable patience that enabled him to
surmount difficulties. He did not sit down idly to lament misfortunes
which heaven had put it in his power to remedy, or to repine at
poverty, while the wealth of his enemies was to be gained. But having
made two voyages to America, for the sake of gaining intelligence of
the state of the Spanish settlements, and acquainted himself with the
seas and coasts, he determined on a third expedition of more
importance, by which the Spaniards should find how imprudently they
always act, who injure and insult a brave man.

On the 24th of May, 1572, Francis Drake set sail from Plymouth, in the
Pascha, of seventy tons, accompanied by the Swan, of twenty-five tons,
commanded by his brother John Drake, having, in both the vessels,
seventy-three men and boys, with a year's provision, and such
artillery and ammunition, as was necessary for his undertaking, which,
however incredible it may appear to such as consider rather his force
than his fortitude, was no less than to make reprisals upon the most
powerful nation in the world.

The wind continuing favourable, they entered, June 29th, between
Guadaloupe and Dominica, and, on July 6th, saw the highland of Santa
Martha; then continuing their course, after having been becalmed for
some time, they arrived at port Pheasant, so named by Drake, in a
former voyage to the east of Nombre de Dios. Here he proposed to build
his pinnaces, which he had brought in pieces ready framed from
Plymouth, and was going ashore, with a few men unarmed, but,
discovering a smoke at a distance, ordered the other boat to follow
him with a greater force.

Then marching towards the fire, which was in the top of a high tree,
he found a plate of lead nailed to another tree, with an inscription
engraved upon it by one Garret, an Englishman, who had left that place
but five days before, and had taken this method of informing him, that
the Spaniards had been advertised of his intention to anchor at that
place, and that it, therefore, would be prudent to make a very short
stay there.

But Drake, knowing how convenient this place was for his designs, and
considering that the hazard and waste of time, which could not be
avoided, in seeking another station, was equivalent to any other
danger which was to be apprehended from the Spaniards, determined to
follow his first resolution; only, for his greater security, he
ordered a kind of palisade, or fortification, to be made, by felling
large trees, and laying the trunks and branches, one upon another, by
the side of the river.

On July 20th, having built their pinnaces, and being joined by one
captain Rause, who happened to touch at the same place, with a bark of
fifty men, they set sail towards Nombre de Dios, and, taking two
frigates at the island of Pines, were informed by the negroes, which
they found in them, that the inhabitants of that place were in
expectation of some soldiers, which the governour of Panama had
promised, to defend them from the Symerons, or fugitive negroes, who,
having escaped from the tyranny of their masters, in great numbers,
had settled themselves under two kings, or leaders, on each side of
the way between Nombre de Dios and Panama, and not only asserted their
natural right to liberty and independence, but endeavoured to revenge
the cruelties they had suffered, and had lately put the inhabitants of
Nombre de Dios into the utmost consternation.

These negroes the captain set on shore on the mainland, so that they
might, by joining the Symerons, recover their liberty, or, at least,
might not have it in their power to give the people of Nombre de Dios
any speedy information of his intention to invade them.

Then selecting fifty-three men from his own company, and twenty from
the crew of his new associate, captain Rause, he embarked with them,
in his pinnaces, and set sail for Nombre de Dios.

On July the 28th, at night, he approached the town, undiscovered, and
dropt his anchors under the shore, intending, after his men were
refreshed, to begin the attack; but finding that they were terrifying
each other with formidable accounts of the strength of the place, and
the multitude of the inhabitants, he determined to hinder the panick
from spreading further by leading them immediately to action; and,
therefore, ordering them to their pars, he landed without any
opposition, there being only one gunner upon the bay, though it was
secured with six brass cannons of the largest size, ready mounted. But
the gunner, while they were throwing the cannons from their carriages,
alarmed the town, as they soon discovered by the bell, the drums, and
the noise of the people. Drake, leaving twelve men to guard the
pinnaces, marched round the town, with no great opposition, the men
being more hurt by treading on the weapons, left on the ground by the
flying enemy, than by the resistance which they encountered.

At length, having taken some of the Spaniards, Drake commanded them to
show him the governour's house, where the mules that bring the silver
from Panama were unloaded; there they found the door open, and,
entering the room where the silver was reposited, found it heaped up
in bars, in such quantities as almost exceed belief, the pile being,
they conjectured, seventy feet in length, ten in breadth, and twelve
in height, each bar weighing between thirty and forty-five pounds.

It is easy to imagine, that, at the sight of this treasure, nothing
was thought on by the English, but by what means they might best
convey it to their boats; and, doubtless, it was not easy for Drake,
who, considering their distance from the shore and the number of their
enemies, was afraid of being intercepted in his retreat, to hinder his
men from encumbering themselves with so much silver as might have
retarded their march and obstructed the use of their weapons; however,
by promising to lead them to the king's treasurehouse, where there was
gold and jewels to a far greater value, and where the treasure was not
only more portable, but nearer the coast, he persuaded them to follow
him, and rejoin the main body of his men, then drawn up under the
command of his brother in the market-place.

Here he found his little troop much discouraged by the imagination,
that, if they stayed any longer, the enemy would gain possession of
their pinnaces, and that they should then, without any means of
safety, be left to stand alone against the whole power of that
country. Drake, not, indeed, easily terrified, but sufficiently
cautious, sent to the coast to inquire the truth, and see if the same
terrour had taken possession of the men whom he had left to guard his
boats; but, finding no foundation for these dreadful apprehensions, he
persisted in his first design, and led the troop forward to the
treasurehouse. In their way, there fell a violent shower of rain,
which wet some of their bowstrings, and extinguished many of their
matches; a misfortune which might soon have been repaired, and which,
perhaps, the enemy might suffer in common with them, but which,
however, on this occasion, very much embarrassed them, as the delay
produced by it repressed that ardour which, sometimes, is only to be
kept up by continued action, and gave time to the timorous and
slothful to spread their insinuations and propagate their cowardice.
Some, whose fear was their predominant passion, were continually
magnifying the numbers and courage of their enemies, and represented
whole nations as ready to rush upon them; others, whose avarice
mingled with their concern for their own safety, were more solicitous
to preserve what they had already gained, than to acquire more; and
others, brave in themselves and resolute, began to doubt of success in
an undertaking, in which they were associated with such cowardly
companions. So that scarcely any man appeared to proceed in their
enterprise with that spirit and alacrity which could give Drake a
prospect of success.

This he perceived, and, with some emotion, told them, that if, after
having had the chief treasure of the world within their reach, they
should go home and languish in poverty, they could blame nothing but
their own cowardice; that he had performed his part, and was still
desirous to lead them on to riches and to honour.

Then finding that either shame or conviction made them willing to
follow him, he ordered the treasurehouse to be forced, and commanding
his brother, and Oxenham, of Plymouth, a man known afterwards for his
bold adventures in the same parts, to take charge of the treasure, he
commanded the other body to follow him to the market-place, that he
might be ready to oppose any scattered troops of the Spaniards, and
hinder them from uniting into one body.

But, as he stepped forward, his strength failed him on a sudden, and
he fell down speechless. Then it was that his companions perceived a
wound in his leg, which he had received in the first encounter, but
hitherto concealed, lest his men, easily discouraged, should make
their concern for his life a pretence for returning to their boats.
Such had been his loss of blood, as was discovered upon nearer
observation, that it had filled the prints of his footsteps, and it
appeared scarce credible that, after such effusion of blood, life
should remain.

The bravest were now willing to retire: neither the desire of honour
nor of riches, was thought enough to prevail in any man over his
regard for his leader. Drake, whom cordials had now restored to his
speech, was the only man who could not be prevailed on to leave the
enterprise unfinished. It was to no purpose that they advised him to
submit to go on board to have his wound dressed, and promised to
return with him and complete their design; he well knew how
impracticable it was to regain the opportunity, when it was once lost;
and could easily foresee, that a respite, but of a few hours, would
enable the Spaniards to recover from their consternation, to assemble
their forces, refit their batteries, and remove their treasure. What
he had undergone so much danger to obtain was now in his hands, and
the thought of leaving it untouched was too mortifying to be patiently
borne.

However, as there was little time for consultation, and the same
danger attended their stay, in that perplexity and confusion, as their
return, they bound up his wound with his scarf, and partly by force,
partly by entreaty, carried him to the boats, in which they all
embarked by break of day.

Then taking with them, out of the harbour, a ship loaded with wines,
they went to the Bastimentes, an island about a league from the town,
where they stayed two days to repose the wounded men, and to regale
themselves with the fruits, which grew in great plenty in the gardens
of that island.

During their stay here, there came over, from the mainland, a Spanish
gentleman, sent by the governour, with instructions to inquire whether
the captain was that Drake who had been before on their coast; whether
the arrows with which many of their men were wounded were not
poisoned; and whether they wanted provisions or other necessaries. The
messenger, likewise, extolled their courage with the highest
encomiums, and expressed his admiration of their daring undertaking.
Drake, though he knew the civilities of an enemy are always to be
suspected, and that the messenger, amidst all his professions of
regard, was no other than a spy, yet knowing that he had nothing to
apprehend, treated him with the highest honours that his condition
admitted of. In answer to his inquiries, he assured him that he was
the same Drake with whose character they were before acquainted, that
he was a rigid observer of the laws of war, and never permitted his
arrows to be poisoned: he then dismissed him with considerable
presents, and told him that, though he had unfortunately failed in
this attempt, he would never desist from his design till he had shared
with Spain the treasures of America.

They then resolved to return to the isle of Pines, where they had left
their ships, and consult about the measures they were now to take; and
having arrived, August 1st, at their former station, they dismissed
captain Rause, who, judging it unsafe to stay any longer on the coast,
desired to be no longer engaged in their designs.

But Drake, not to be discouraged from his purpose by a single
disappointment, after having inquired of a negro, whom he took on
board at Nombre de Dios, the most wealthy settlements, and weakest
parts of the coast, resolved to attack Carthagena; and, setting sail
without loss of time, came to anchor, August 13th, between Charesha
and St. Barnards, two islands at a little distance from the harbour of
Carthagena; then passing with his boats round the island, he entered
the harbour, and, in the mouth of it, found a frigate with only an old
man in it, who voluntarily informed them, that about an hour before a
pinnace had passed by with sails and oars, and all the appearance of
expedition and importance; that, as she passed, the crew on board her
bid them take care of themselves; and that, as soon as she touched the
shore, they heard the noise of cannon fired as a warning, and saw the
shipping in the port drawn up under the guns of the castle.

The captain, who had himself heard the discharge of the artillery, was
soon convinced that he was discovered, and that, therefore, nothing
could be attempted with any probability of success. He, therefore,
contented himself with taking a ship of Seville, of two hundred and
forty tons, which the relater of this voyage mentions as a very large
ship, and two small frigates, in which he found letters of advice from
Nombre de Dios, intended to alarm that part of the coast.

Drake, now finding his pinnaces of great use, and not having a
sufficient number of sailors for all his vessels, was desirous of
destroying one of his ships, that his pinnaces might be better manned:
this, necessary as it was, could not easily be done without disgusting
his company, who, having made several prosperous voyages in that
vessel, would be unwilling to have it destroyed. Drake well knew that
nothing but the love of their leaders could animate his followers to
encounter such hardships as he was about to expose them to, and,
therefore, rather chose to bring his designs to pass by artifice than
authority. He sent for the carpenter of the Swan, took him into his
cabin, and, having first engaged him to secrecy, ordered him, in the
middle of the night, to go down into the well of the ship, and bore
three holes through the bottom, laying something against them that
might hinder the bubbling of the water from being heard. To this the
carpenter, after some expostulation, consented, and the next night
performed his promise.

In the morning, August 15, Drake, going out with his pinnace a
fishing, rowed up to the Swan, and having invited his brother to
partake of his diversions, inquired, with a negligent air, why their
bark was so deep in the water; upon which the steward going down,
returned immediately with an account that the ship was leaky, and in
danger of sinking in a little time. They had recourse immediately to
the pump; but, having laboured till three in the afternoon, and gained
very little upon the water, they willingly, according to Drake's
advice, set the vessel on fire, and went on board the pinnaces.

Finding it now necessary to lie concealed for some time, till the
Spaniards should forget their danger, and remit their vigilance, they
set sail for the sound of Darien, and without approaching the coast,
that their course might not be observed, they arrived there in six
days.

This being a convenient place for their reception, both on account of
privacy, as it was out of the road of all trade, and as it was well
supplied with wood, water, wild fowl, hogs, deer, and all kinds of
provisions, he stayed here fifteen days to clean his vessels, and
refresh his men, who worked interchangeably, on one day the one half,
and on the next the other.

On the 5th day of September, Drake left his brother with the ship at
Darien, and set out with two pinnaces towards the Rio Grande, which
they reached in three days, and, on the 9th, were discovered by a
Spaniard from the bank, who believing them to be his countrymen, made
a signal to them to come on shore, with which they very readily
complied; but he, soon finding his mistake, abandoned his plantation,
where they found great plenty of provisions, with which, having laden
their vessels, they departed. So great was the quantity of provisions
which they amassed here and in other places, that in different parts
of the coast they built four magazines or storehouses, which they
filled with necessaries for the prosecution of their voyage. These
they placed at such a distance from each other, that the enemy, if he
should surprise one, might yet not discover the rest.

In the mean time, his brother, captain John Drake, went, according to
the instructions that had been left him, in search of the Symerons, or
fugitive negroes, from whose assistance alone they had now any
prospect of a successful voyage; and touching upon the mainland, by
means of the negro whom they had taken from Nombre de Dios, engaged
two of them to come on board his pinnace, leaving two of their own men
as hostages for their returning. These men, having assured Drake of
the affection of their nation, appointed an interview between him and
their leaders. So leaving port Plenty, in the isle of Pines, so named
by the English from the great stores of provisions which they had
amassed at that place, they came, by the direction of the Symerons,
into a secret bay, among beautiful islands covered with trees, which
concealed their ship from observation, and where the channel was so
narrow and rocky, that it was impossible to enter it by night, so that
there was no danger of a sudden attack.

Here they met, and entered into engagements, which common enemies and
common dangers preserved from violation. But the first conversation
informed the English, that their expectations were not immediately to
be gratified; for, upon their inquiries after the most probable means
of gaining gold and silver, the Symerons told them, that had they
known sooner the chief end of their expedition, they could easily have
gratified them; but that during the rainy season, which was now begun,
and which continues six months, they could not recover the treasure,
which they had taken from the Spaniards, out of the rivers in which
they had concealed it.

Drake, therefore, proposing to wait in this place, till the rains were
past, built, with the assistance of the Symerons, a fort of earth and
timber, and leaving part of his company with the Symerons, set out
with three pinnaces towards Carthagena, being of a spirit too active
to lie still patiently, even in a state of plenty and security, and
with the most probable expectations of immense riches.

On the 16th of October, he anchored within sight of Carthagena,
without landing; and on the 17th, going out to sea, took a Spanish
bark, with which they entered the harbour, where they were accosted by
a Spanish gentleman, whom they had some time before taken and set at
liberty, who coming to them in a boat, as he pretended, without the
knowledge of the governour, made them great promises of refreshment
and professions of esteem; but Drake, having waited till the next
morning, without receiving the provisions he had been prevailed upon
to expect, found that all this pretended kindness was no more than a
stratagem to amuse him, while the governour was raising forces for his
destruction.

October 20, they took two frigates coming out of Carthagena, without
lading. Why the Spaniards, knowing Drake to lie at the mouth of the
harbour, sent out their vessels on purpose to be taken, does not
appear. Perhaps they thought that, in order to keep possession of his
prizes, he would divide his company, and by that division be more
easily destroyed.

In a few hours afterwards they sent out two frigates well manned,
which Drake soon forced to retire, and, having sunk one of his prizes,
and burnt the other in their sight, leaped afterwards ashore, single,
in defiance of their troops, which hovered at a distance in the woods
and on the hills, without ever venturing to approach within reach of
the shot from the pinnaces.

To leap upon an enemy's coast in sight of a superiour force, only to
show how little they were feared, was an act that would, in these
times, meet with little applause, nor can the general be seriously
commended, or rationally vindicated, who exposes his person to
destruction, and, by consequence, his expedition to miscarriage, only
for the pleasure of an idle insult, an insignificant bravado. All that
can be urged in his defence is, that, perhaps, it might contribute to
heighten the esteem of his followers, as few men, especially of that
class, are philosophical enough to state the exact limits of prudence
and bravery, or not to be dazzled with an intrepidity, how improperly
soever exerted. It may be added, that, perhaps, the Spaniards, whose
notions of courage are sufficiently romantick, might look upon him as
a more formidable enemy, and yield more easily to a hero, of whose
fortitude they had so high an idea.

However, finding the whole country advertised of his attempts, and in
arms to oppose him, he thought it not proper to stay longer, where
there was no probability of success, and where he might, in time, be
overpowered by multitudes, and, therefore, determined to go forward to
Rio de Heha.

This resolution, when it was known by his followers, threw them into
astonishment; and the company of one of his pinnaces remonstrated to
him, that, though they placed the highest confidence in his conduct,
they could not think of undertaking such a voyage without provisions,
having only a gammon of bacon and a small quantity of bread for
seventeen men. Drake answered them, that there was on board his vessel
even a greater scarcity; but yet, if they would adventure to share his
fortune, he did not doubt of extricating them from all their
difficulties.

Such was the heroick spirit of Drake, that he never suffered himself
to be diverted from his designs by any difficulties, nor ever thought
of relieving his exigencies, but at the expense of his enemies.

Resolution and success reciprocally produce each other. He had not
sailed more than three leagues, before they discovered a large ship,
which they attacked with all the intrepidity that necessity inspires,
and, happily, found it laden with excellent provisions.

But finding his crew growing faint and sickly, with their manner of
living in the pinnaces, which was less commodious than on board the
ships, he determined to go back to the Symerons, with whom he left his
brother and part of his force, and attempt, by their conduct, to make
his way over, and invade the Spaniards in the inland parts, where they
would, probably, never dream of an enemy.

When they arrived at port Diego, so named from the negro who had
procured them their intercourse with the Symerons, they found captain
John Drake, and one of his company, dead, being killed in attempting,
almost unarmed, to board a frigate well provided with all things
necessary for its defence. The captain was unwilling to attack it, and
represented to them the madness of their proposal; but, being
overborne by their clamours and importunities, to avoid the imputation
of cowardice, complied to his destruction. So dangerous is it for the
chief commander to be absent.

Nor was this their only misfortune, for, in a very short time, many of
them were attacked by the calenture, a malignant fever, very frequent
in the hot climates, which carried away, among several others, Joseph
Drake, another brother of the commander.

While Drake was employed in taking care of the sick men, the Symerons,
who ranged the country for intelligence, brought him an account, that
the Spanish fleet was arrived at Nombre de Dios; the truth of which
was confirmed by a pinnace, which he sent out to make observations.

This, therefore, was the time for their journey, when the treasures of
the American mines were to be transported from Panama over land to
Nombre de Dios. He, therefore, by the direction of the Symerons,
furnished himself with all things necessary, and, on February 3, set
out from port Diego.

Having lost, already, twenty-eight of his company, and being under the
necessity of leaving some to guard his ship, he took with him only
eighteen English, and thirty Symerons, who not only served as guides
to show the way, but as purveyors to procure provisions.

They carried not only arrows for war, but for hunting and fowling; the
heads of which are proportioned in size to the game which they are
pursuing: for oxen, stags, or wild boars, they have arrows or
javelins, with heads weighing a pound and half, which they discharge
near hand, and which scarcely ever fail of being mortal. The second
sort are about half as heavy as the other, and are generally shot from
their bows; these are intended for smaller beasts. With the third
sort, of which the heads are an ounce in weight, they kill birds. As
this nation is in a state that does not set them above continual cares
for the immediate necessaries of life, he that can temper iron best,
is, among them, most esteemed; and, perhaps, it would be happy for
every nation, if honours and applauses were as justly distributed, and
he were most distinguished whose abilities were most useful to
society. How many chimerical titles to precedence, how many false
pretences to respect, would this rule bring to the ground!

Every day, by sunrising, they began to march, and, having travelled
till ten, rested near some river till twelve, then travelling again
till four, they reposed all night in houses, which the Symerons had
either left standing in their former marches, or very readily erected
for them, by setting up three or four posts in the ground, and laying
poles from one to another in form of a roof, which they thatched with
palmetto boughs and plantain leaves. In the valleys, where they were
sheltered from the winds, they left three or four feet below open; but
on the hills, where they were more exposed to the chill blasts of the
night, they thatched them close to the ground, leaving only a door for
entrance, and a vent in the middle of the room for the smoke of three
fires, which they made in every house.

In their march they met not only with plenty of fruits upon the banks
of the rivers, but with wild swine in great abundance, of which the
Symerons, without difficulty, killed, for the most part, as much as
was wanted. One day, however, they found an otter, and were about to
dress it; at which Drake expressing his wonder, was asked by Pedro,
the chief Symeron: "Are you a man of war and in want, and yet doubt
whether this be meat that hath blood in it? " For which Drake in
private rebuked him, says the relater; whether justly or not, it is
not very important to determine. There seems to be in Drake's scruple
somewhat of superstition, perhaps, not easily to be justified; and the
negro's answer was, at least martial, and will, I believe, be
generally acknowledged to be rational.

On the third day of their march, Feb. 6, they came to a town of the
Symerons, situated on the side of a hill, and encompassed with a ditch
and a mudwall, to secure it from a sudden surprise: here they lived
with great neatness and plenty, and some observation of religion,
paying great reverence to the cross; a practice which Drake prevailed
upon them to change for the use of the Lord's prayer. Here they
importuned Drake to stay for a few days, promising to double his
strength; but he, either thinking greater numbers unnecessary, or,
fearing that, if any difference should arise, he should be overborne
by the number of Symerons; or that they would demand to share the
plunder that should be taken in common; or for some other reason that
might easily occur, refused any addition to his troop, endeavouring to
express his refusal in such terms as might heighten their opinion of
his bravery.

He then proceeded on his journey through cool shades and lofty woods,
which sheltered them so effectually from the sun, that their march was
less toilsome than if they had travelled in England during the heat of
the summer. Four of the Symerons, that were acquainted with the way,
went about a mile before the troop, and scattered branches to direct
them; then followed twelve Symerons, after whom came the English, with
the two leaders, and the other Symerons closed the rear.

On February 11, they arrived at the top of a very high hill, on the
summit of which grew a tree of wonderful greatness, in which they had
cut steps for the more easy ascent to the top, where there was a kind
of tower, to which they invited Drake, and from thence showed him not
only the north sea, from whence they came, but the great south sea, on
which no English vessel had ever sailed. This prospect exciting his
natural curiosity, and ardour for adventures and discoveries, he
lifted up his hands to God, and implored his blessing upon the
resolution, which he then formed, of sailing in an English ship on
that sea.

Then continuing their march, they came, after two days, into an open,
level country, where their passage was somewhat incommoded with the
grass, which is of a peculiar kind, consisting of a stalk like that of
wheat, and a blade on which the oxen and other cattle feed till it
grows too high for them to reach; then the inhabitants set it on fire,
and in three days it springs up again; this they are obliged to do
thrice a year, so great is the fertility of the soil.

At length, being within view of Panama, they left all frequented
roads, for fear of being discovered, and posted themselves in a grove
near the way between Panama and Nombre de Dios; then they sent a
Symeron in the habit of a negro of Panama, to inquire on what night
the recoes, or drivers of mules, by which the treasure is carried,
were to set forth. The messenger was so well qualified for his
undertaking, and so industrious in the prosecution of it, that he soon
returned, with an account that the treasurer of Lima, intending to
return to Europe, would pass that night, with eight mules laden with
gold, and one with jewels.

Having received this information, they immediately marched towards
Venta Cruz, the first town on the way to Nombre de Dios; sending, for
security, two Symerons before, who, as they went, perceived, by the
scent of a match, that some Spaniard was before them, and, going
silently forward, surprised a soldier asleep upon the ground. They
immediately bound him, and brought him to Drake, who, upon inquiry,
found that their spy had not deceived them in his intelligence. The
soldier, having informed himself of the captain's name, conceived such
a confidence in his well known clemency, that, after having made an
ample discovery of the treasure that was now at hand, he petitioned
not only that he would command the Symerons to spare his life, but
that, when the treasure should fall into his hands, he would allow him
as much as might maintain him and his mistress, since they were about
to gain more than their whole company could carry. Drake then ordered
his men to lie down in the long grass, about fifty paces from the
road, half on one side, with himself, and half on the other, with
Oxenham and the captain of the Symerons, so much behind, that one
company might seize the foremost recoe, and the other the hindermost;
for the mules of these recoes, or drivers, being tied together, travel
on a line, and are all guided by leading the first.

When they had lain about an hour in this place, they began to hear the
bells of the mules on each hand; upon which orders were given, that
the drove which came from Venta Cruz should pass unmolested, because
they carried nothing of great value, and those only be intercepted
which were travelling thither; and that none of the men should rise
up, till the signal should be given. But one Robert Pike, heated with
strong liquor, left his company, and prevailed upon one of the
Symerons to creep with him to the wayside, that they might signalize
themselves by seizing the first mule; and hearing the trampling of a
horse, as he lay, could not be restrained by the Symeron from rising
up to observe who was passing by. This he did so imprudently, that he
was discovered by the passenger; for, by Drake's order, the English
had put their shirts on over their coats, that the night and tumult
might not hinder them from knowing one another.

The gentleman was immediately observed by Drake to change his trot
into a gallop; but, the reason of it not appearing, it was imputed to
his fear of the robbers that usually infest that road, and the English
still continued to expect the treasure.

In a short time, one of the recoes, that were passing towards Venta
Cruz, came up, and was eagerly seized by the English, who expected
nothing less than half the revenue of the Indies; nor is it easy to
imagine their mortification and perplexity, when they found only two
mules laden with silver, the rest having no other burden than
provisions.

The driver was brought immediately to the captain, and informed him
that the horseman, whom he had observed pass by with so much
precipitation, had informed the treasurer of what he had observed, and
advised him to send back the mules that carried his gold and jewels,
and suffer only the rest to proceed, that he might, by that cheap
experiment, discover whether there was any ambush on the way.

That Drake was not less disgusted than his followers at the
disappointment, cannot be doubted; but there was now no time to be
spent in complaints. The whole country was alarmed, and all the force
of the Spaniards was summoned to overwhelm him. He had no fortress to
retire to; every man was his enemy; and every retreat better known to
the Spaniards than to himself.

This was an occasion that demanded all the qualities of an hero, an
intrepidity never to be shaken, and a judgment never to be perplexed.
He immediately considered all the circumstances of his present
situation, and found that it afforded him only the choice of marching
back the same way through which he came, or of forcing his passage to
Venta Cruz.

To march back, was to confess the superiority of his enemies, and to
animate them to the pursuit; the woods would afford opportunities of
ambush, and his followers must often disperse themselves in search of
provisions, who would become an easy prey, dispirited by their
disappointment, and fatigued by their march. On the way to Venta Cruz,
he should have nothing to fear but from open attacks, and expected
enemies.