Westward Ho! Or, The Voyages and Adventures of Sir Amyas Leigh, Knight, of Burrough, in the County of Devon, in the Reign of Her Most Glorious Majesty Queen Elizabeth. Charles Kingsley
Which speeches I took no count of then, sirs: but after I minded them, whether I would or not. Well, sirs, we came to the shore of New Spain, near to the old place—that’s Nombre de Dios; and there Mr. Oxenham went ashore into the woods with a boat’s crew, to find the negroes who helped us three years before. Those are the Cimaroons, gentles, negro slaves who have fled from those devils incarnate, their Spanish masters, and live wild, like the beasts that perish; men of great stature, sirs, and fierce as wolves in the onslaught, but poor jabbering mazed fellows if they be but a bit dismayed: and have many Indian women with them, who take to these negroes a deal better than to their own kin, which breeds war enough, as you may guess.
“Well, sirs, after three days the captain comes back, looking heavy enough, and says, ‘We played our trick once too often, when we played it once. There is no chance of stopping another reco (that is, a mule-train, sirs) now. The Cimaroons say that since our last visit they never move without plenty of soldiers, two hundred shot at least. Therefore,’ he said, ‘my gallants, we must either return empty-handed from this, the very market and treasury of the whole Indies, or do such a deed as men never did before, which I shall like all the better for that very reason.’ And we, asking his meaning, ‘Why,’ he said, ‘if Drake will not sail the South Seas, we will;’ adding profanely that Drake was like Moses, who beheld the promised land afar; but he was Joshua, who would enter into it, and smite the inhabitants thereof. And, for our confirmation, showed me and the rest the superscription of a letter: and said, ‘How I came by this is none of your business: but I have had it in my bosom ever since I left Plymouth; and I tell you now, what I forbore to tell you at first, that the South Seas have been my mark all along! such news have I herein of plate-ships, and gold-ships, and what not, which will come up from Quito and Lima this very month, all which, with the pearls of the Gulf of Panama, and other wealth unspeakable, will be ours, if we have but true English hearts within us.’
“At which, gentles, we were like madmen for lust of that gold, and cheerfully undertook a toil incredible; for first we run our ship aground in a great wood which grew in the very sea itself, and then took out her masts, and covered her in boughs, with her four cast pieces of great ordnance (of which more hereafter), and leaving no man in her, started for the South Seas across the neck of Panama, with two small pieces of ordnance and our culverins, and good store of victuals, and with us six of those negroes for a guide, and so twelve leagues to a river which runs into the South Sea.
“And there, having cut wood, we made a pinnace (and work enough we had at it) of five-and-forty foot in the keel; and in her down the stream, and to the Isle of Pearls in the Gulf of Panama.”
“Into the South Sea? Impossible!” said Sir Richard. “Have a care what you say, my man; for there is that about you which would make me sorry to find you out a liar.”
“Impossible or not, liar or none, we went there, sir.”
“Question him, Amyas, lest he turn out to have been beforehand with you.”
The man looked inquiringly at Amyas, who said—
“Well, my man, of the Gulf of Panama I cannot ask you, for I never was inside it, but what other parts of the coast do you know?”
“Every inch, sir, from Cabo San Francisco to Lima; more is my sorrow, for I was a galley-slave there for two years and more.”
“You know Lima?”
“I was there three times, worshipful gentlemen, and the last was February come two years; and there I helped lade a great plate-ship, the Cacafuogo,’ they called her.”
Amyas started. Sir Richard nodded to him gently to be silent, and then—
“And what became of her, my lad?”
“God knows, who knows all, and the devil who freighted her. I broke prison six weeks afterwards, and never heard but that she got safe into Panama.”
“You never heard, then, that she was taken?”
“Taken, your worships? Who should take her?”
“Why should not a good English ship take her as well as another?” said Amyas.
“Lord love you, sir; yes, faith, if they had but been there. Many’s the time that I thought to myself, as we went alongside, ‘Oh, if Captain Drake was but here, well to windward, and our old crew of the “Dragon”!’ Ask your pardon, gentles: but how is Captain Drake, if I may make so bold?”
Neither could hold out longer.
“Fellow, fellow!” cried Sir Richard, springing up, “either thou art the cunningest liar that ever earned a halter, or thou hast done a deed the like of which never man adventured. Dost thou not know that Captain Drake took that ‘Cacafuogo’ and all her freight, in February come two years?”
“Captain Drake! God forgive me, sir; but—Captain Drake in the South Seas? He saw them, sir, from the tree-top over Panama, when I was with him, and I too; but sailed them, sir?—sailed them?”
“Yes, and round the world too,” said Amyas, “and I with him; and took that very ‘Cacafuogo’ off Cape San Francisco, as she came up to Panama.”
One glance at the man’s face was enough to prove his sincerity. The great stern Anabaptist, who had not winced at the news of his mother’s death, dropt right on his knees on the floor, and burst into violent sobs.
“Glory to God! Glory to God! O Lord, I thank thee! Captain Drake in the South Seas! The blood of thy innocents avenged, O Lord! The spoiler spoiled, and the proud robbed; and all they whose hands were mighty have found nothing. Glory, glory! Oh, tell me, sir, did she fight?”
“We gave her three pieces of ordnance only, and struck down her mizzenmast, and then boarded sword in hand, but never had need to strike a blow; and before we left her, one of her own boys had changed her name, and rechristened her the ‘Cacaplata.’”
“Glory, glory! Cowards they are, as I told them. I told them they never could stand the Devon mastiffs, and well they flogged me for saying it; but they could not stop my mouth. O sir, tell me, did you get the ship that came up after her?”
“What was that?”
“A long race-ship, sir, from Guayaquil, with an old gentleman on board,—Don Francisco de Xararte was his name, and by token, he had a gold falcon hanging to a chain round his neck, and a green stone in the breast of it. I saw it as we rowed him aboard. O tell me, sir, tell me for the love of God, did you take that ship?”
“We did take that ship, and the jewel too, and her majesty has it at this very hour.”
“Then tell me, sir,” said he slowly, as if he dreaded an answer; “tell me, sir, and oh, try and mind—was there a little maid aboard with the old gentleman?”
“A little maid? Let me think. No; I saw none.”
The man settled his features again sadly.
“I thought not. I never saw her come aboard. Still I hoped, like; I hoped. Alackaday! God help me, Salvation Yeo!”
“What have you to do with this little maid, then, good fellow!” asked Grenville.
“Ah, sir, before I tell you that, I must go back and finish the story of Mr. Oxenham, if you will believe me enough to hear it.”
“I do believe thee, good fellow, and honor thee too.”
“Then, sir, I can speak with a free tongue. Where was I?”
“Where was he, Amyas?”
“At the Isle of Pearls.”
“And yet, O gentles, tell me first, how Captain Drake came into the South Seas:—over the neck, as we did?”
“Through the Straits, good fellow, like any Spaniard: but go on with thy story, and thou shalt have Mr. Leigh’s after.”
“Through the Straits! O glory! But I’ll tell my tale. Well, sirs both—To the Island of Pearls we came, we and some of the negroes. We found many huts, and Indians fishing for pearls, and also a fair house, with porches; but no Spaniard therein, save one man; at which Mr. Oxenham was like