Pirate Nation. David Childs
start, realised all was not well, went on deck, saw white water to starboard, and ordered the helm put hard over. When soundings were taken it was discovered that the ship was in just over three fathoms of water and had been heading directly for the shoals.
In his commentary Hawkins observed that they ordered such things better in Spain and Portugal, where a seat was provided by the compass in which sat, throughout the voyage, the master or one of his mates, in the role, as we would refer to it today, of officer of the watch. Sat here, he would not only keep a check that the ordered course was being steered, but make sure that the helmsman was ‘continually excited’ to keep him alert. Whether Hawkins himself adopted this precaution he does not say, but one excellent practice he did follow was to make sure every opportunity to reprovision with fresh food and water was taken. Additionally, like Drake, if a stopover was of any length, he had the ship’s company exercise. He had, without realising it, solved the problem of scurvy which so ravaged the crews on most long voyages.
The inevitable grounding took place in the Straits of Magellan, while Dainty was being conned by some who thought they knew the waters around Tobias Cove. They did not, and steered the ship onto a rock shortly after a mighty wind blew itself out, giving her a calmer collision than might have been the case. Worryingly, it was found that she was trapped on a pinnacle amidships, so that the weight of bilge-water, both forward and aft, was in danger of weighing her down and breaking her back. Despite trying to wind her off, they had to wait until the next high tide to float clear. Months later, when she was grounded near Panama, they saw that ‘a great part of her sheathing was beaten off on both sides in her bilges, and some four foot long and foot square of her false stem, adjoining the keel, rested across, like unto a hog yoke, which hindered her sailing very much.’
Another threat to ships on lengthy voyages through the tropics was an attack on their timbers by worm, Teredo navalis, a pest not present in colder northern waters, but a ship destroyer in warmer climes. The remedy was to provide a sacrificial sheathing, such as Nuña da Silva noted was fitted to Golden Hind. Indeed, the provision of such sheathing on certain ships was interpreted by spies as an indication that the English were planning voyages of plunder. Hawkins, as ever, provided his expert view, ‘for the ignorant’, on the dangers of worm which ‘enter in no bigger than a Spanish needle, and by little and little their holes become ordinarily greater than a man’s finger.’ Noting that the Iberians used lead for their sheathing, he dismissed this as too costly, too heavy and too frail. He also dismissed simple double-planking as too heavy and only suitable as a delaying factor as regarded penetration. A method which he did consider efficacious was to burn the outer planks black and then apply pitch, either by itself or mixed with ground glass. Best of all, he thought, was to apply a thin outer sheathing of elm, which of itself was rot-resistant, while between this and the main planking a thick smearing of tar mixed with horsehair was applied. Although he admitted that this method was ‘invented by my father’, his view that ‘experience has taught it to be the best and of least coat’ is borne out by the fact that it remained in use until Dolphin completed a circumnavigation in 1769, successfully sheathed in copper.
Whether or not Hawkins and Dainty would have completed a successful circumnavigation will never be known, for the ship was captured by the Spanish after a lengthy fight in which, true to form, the behaviour of his crew contributed much to their defeat. Yet, in theory, Hawkins knew precisely what was needed among a company to keep a ship safe while at sea. This necessitated: having a knowledgeable captain keeping a watchful eye upon all his men and their works; a watchful pilot; a boatswain to keep the ship clean, and well-rigged and secure; and a carpenter who regularly inspected the ship’s sides, pumps, masts, boats. Above all, Hawkins believed:
Every officer, in his office, ought to be an absolute commander, yet ready in obedience and love, to sacrifice his will to his superior command. This cannot but cause unity; and unity but purchase a happy issue to dutiful travellers.
Unless, of course, they fall foul of a stronger enemy, a circumstance which ended Hawkins’s voyage and which Cumberland, often frustrated by the escape of his quarry, was determined to avoid.
The Scourge of Malice and her Consorts
So in 1594 that most optimistic and persistent of pirates resolved, in Monson’s words, ‘to build a ship from the stocks that should equal the middle rank of Her Majesty’s and act so noble and rare, it being a thing never undertaken before by a subject that it deserved immortal fame’, comments that would have been as appropriate for the earlier Ark Ralegh.
Cumberland’s desire was to have a ship not only capable of overwhelming the great carracks whose escape from his fleet’s clutches in earlier years had so frustrated him, but also one not subject to the queen’s caveats against close-quarters engagements, and one that he could crew and victual himself. The result was a four-masted vessel of some 700 tons and a set of ten sails, including topgallants and two lateen sails. Her thirty-eight guns included a number of demi-cannons, sixteen culverins, twelve demi-culverins and eight sakers, a suite that would have enabled her to batter as well as board.
Rather than confiscate her for her own use, as she had done with Ralegh’s Ark, Elizabeth graciously agreed to be present at the launching of ‘the best ship that ever before had been built by any subject’, being most content that the name she gave her, Scourge of Malice, had an irony that would not be lost on those whom the ship was designed to plunder. In fact she plundered but little, being an unlucky vessel through most of her piratical career despite Elizabeth’s early support.
On 28 March 1595 the Queen issued authority for Cumberland to victual and arm for sea the ‘Malice Scourge and such other ships and pinnaces . . . not exceeding six’, although she made sure that her own coffers would benefit from the permit by stating that ‘all prizes that shall be taken by you or by any person or persons appointed by you are to be brought into the most convenient haven without breaking bulk or making any distribution of shares until our further pleasure is known.’
The earl, having a close relationship with the queen by right of rank rather than, as in Ralegh’s case, whim, might well have protested against the stringency of audit as outlined above, for in less than a month he had new documents which instructed him: ‘to weaken the force of those who are hostilely disposed against us and to destroy the forces of the subjects of the King of Spain’, for which service the earl was allowed ‘the value of any prizes taken by them without account saving £10,000 on every carrack bound from Portugal to the Indies or £20,000 on any from the Indies to Portugal.’
Prior to sailing, Cumberland had gained some intelligence as to the timings of the departures of the Indies ships from Portugal, only for him to arrive at Plymouth to discover reports that Hawkins and Drake had stolen a sail on him and had captured just such a carrack, an act and a presence that had led to the cancellation of further sailings that year. Much disgruntled, Cumberland disembarked, sending his squadron on without him. Without his being present, they lacked the drive to achieve much and returned with a limited haul.
In 1596, the year of the Cadiz raid, Scourge of Malice appears to have been employed in a supporting and not rewarding ancillary role, being tasked with investigating shipping movements around Ireland and making a show of force off Calais, which the Spaniards had recently captured. Inactivity or absence from the centre did not appeal to Cumberland and in 1597 he offered to lead a fleet in his flagship to ‘burn the Spanish Navy [or] impeach them divers ways and hinder them from going to Ireland or pursue them thither.’
Whatever the aim, the weather intervened and a few days out Scourge lost her mainmast and had to return to harbour. This assault by the weather should not have surprised observers of Cumberland’s sea career, for he seemed to have drawn storms to him like a meteorological magnet and he needed strong ships to ride them out, as is evidenced in the account of a most frightening gale:
Upon Thursday the seventh of September, the gale began to be very fresh and to keepe the sailes stiffe from the Masts, and so continued all that day. Upon Friday it began to speake yet lowder, and to whistle a good in the shrowdes, insomuch that our Master made the Drablers bee taken off, and before night it had blowne the fore-top-saile in pieces by the terrible board; this was taken for the