Her own fleet was nothing. The safety of the
English shores depended on the spirit of the adventurers, and she could
not afford to check the anger with which the news was received. To
accept the offer of the States was war, and war she would not have.
Herself, she would not act at all; but in her usual way she might let
her subjects act for themselves, and plead, as Philip pleaded in excuse
for the Inquisition, that she could not restrain them. And thus it was
that in September 1585, Sir Francis Drake found himself with a fleet of
twenty-five privateers and 2,500 men who had volunteered to serve with
him under his own command. He had no distinct commission. The expedition
had been fitted out as a private undertaking. Neither officers nor crews
had been engaged for the service of the Crown. They received no wages.
In the eye of the law they were pirates. They were going on their own
account to read the King of Spain a necessary lesson and pay their
expenses at the King of Spain's cost. Young Protestant England had taken
fire. The name of Drake set every Protestant heart burning, and hundreds
of gallant gentlemen had pressed in to join. A grandson of Burghley had
come, and Edward Winter the Admiral's son, and Francis Knolles the
Queen's cousin, and Martin Frobisher, and Christopher Carlile.
Pages:
141
142
143
144
145
146
147
148
149
150
151
152
153
154
155
156
157
158
159
160
161
162
163
164
165