Cadiz had not yet fallen and Raleigh was determined to go on sh.o.r.e with the troops and witness the taking of the town, in spite of his wound. A litter was prepared for him--he was lowered into one of the boats--rowed ash.o.r.e, carried upon the shoulders of some of his faithful soldiers, and witnessed the furious struggle which now ensued. Cadiz fell. Although the lives of the people were spared; the castle, fortifications and the greater part of the town itself, were burned and demolished. If you go there, to-day, you will still find the marks of this great and stirring strife.

There was nothing left but to put the Spanish prisoners aboard the galleons, collect the plunder, and set sail for England. When the fleet again swung into the little harbor of Plymouth it was received by the people with wildest enthusiasm and delight. All England rang with the praise of the valor and courage of her heroes, for Spain had been stripped of her ability to injure her English rival and England's power was supreme upon the sea. Raleigh and his comrades had done this,--and the descendants of Raleigh and his comrades have continued to uphold the supremacy. Hurrah for Raleigh!

But how about those jealous courtiers? They were still around--Oh, yes!--And Raleigh was greeted at court as coldly as when he had departed with the fleet. He had been deprived of his office of Captain of the Queen's Guard, and even his bravery at Cadiz did not win this back for him. Nor did he receive any of the spoil which had been won by himself and his comrades. Even Queen Bess was angry because her share of the booty taken from Cadiz was not as great as she had hoped for.

"What the Generals have got," wrote Sir Walter, "I know least. For my own part, I have got a game leg, and am deformed. I have received many good words and exceedingly kind and regardful usage; but I have possession of naught but poverty and pain."

Not long afterwards the old Queen was persuaded to write Sir Walter to come to court, and thus he and his wife, whom Elizabeth had also forgiven, appeared daily in the brilliant throng which cl.u.s.tered in the halls and corridors of the Royal Palace. He was restored to his old office of Captain of the Queen's Guard and rode forth again in all the splendor of his uniform, at the side of the sovereign.

The rest of Sir Walter's life can be briefly narrated. With Ess.e.x he took part in a successful expedition to the Azores, where they captured many ships, and with him divided much booty and fame. But Ess.e.x became too ambitious and started a conspiracy to place himself upon the throne of England. It was a failure. He was captured by the Queen's soldiers--a part under Sir Walter himself--was tried, and executed for High Treason.

Queen Bess soon died and was succeeded by a man who disliked Sir Walter from the start. This was James the First of Scotland--a "dour"

fellow--who charged the valorous knight with treason, for it was alleged that he had conspired, with Lord Cobham, to place the youthful Arabella Stuart upon the throne. He was tried, convicted, and thrown into the Tower, where he lived for twelve long, tedious years.

Think of it! A fellow of his venturesome and restless spirit forced to remain in a dungeon-keep for such a time! Weep for brave Sir Walter!

This was fine treatment for a patriot!

But the jealous courtiers did not weep. Oh no! _They_ laughed.

When gallant Sir Walter was thrown into the Tower (for he had not plotted against the King) he was a hale and stalwart cavalier of fifty-two. He was released--after twelve years--when his hair and beard were grizzled, his face worn and wrinkled, his body somewhat bent, and his features grave and sorrowful. With what tearful joy he clasped to his breast his ever faithful wife and his two sons! At sixty-four his brave spirit was still unshaken; his ardent and restless ambition was as keen as ever.

He went forth with the sentence of death still hanging over his head; for King James, although giving a grudging consent to his release, had refused to pardon him. And he went forth with the understanding that he should lead an expedition to the coast of Guiana in South America; there to attack the Spaniards and gain plunder, gold, and jewels. If successful he was to go free. If non-successful, he was to suffer punishment--perhaps death!

The expedition was a failure. The Spaniards and natives were well aware of his coming, for 'tis said that King James, himself, sent them news of the expedition.

"If I go home it's off with my head," said Sir Walter. "But I'll risk it."

Don't you think if you had been Sir Walter, instead of sailing to England where you knew that a headsman's axe awaited you, you would have coasted by the sh.o.r.es of the Chesapeake Bay and dropped off quietly where is the home of the canvas-back and the terrapin! Just stepped into one of the jolly-boats and peacefully drifted ash.o.r.e on a dark night?

I think that you would have been strongly inclined to do so,--but _you_ are not Sir Walter Raleigh. _He_ was a lion-hearted adventurer.

Opportunity after opportunity came to him to escape to the sh.o.r.es of France. He let them go by, but, when he found that his enemies demanded his trial for treason, he thought it high time to get away.

He learned that a French envoy had arranged to get him to France and had a barque for this purpose. A certain Captain King had found a small boat commanded by one of Sir Walter's old boatmen, which lay at Tilbury awaiting his orders. It was arranged by Raleigh's guard--one Stukeley--that he should be rowed to the little lugger on the evening of Sunday, August the 9th, 1618. The latter was sent up the Thames river to Gravesend.

At the hour designated, Raleigh, Captain King, Stukeley and his son Hart, with a page, jumped into two small wherries in order to row to the lugger. They had just shoved off, when keen Sir Walter saw another boat push out from the bank and follow them.

"How's this?" said he to Stukeley.

But silent Stukeley did not answer.

The boat rowed fast, but the pursuing craft moved with equal speed.

The tide was singing and gurgling in a mad flow, and it became doubtful whether the wherries could reach Gravesend under the protection of darkness, for day was breaking, and the whirling water made progress very slow.

At last--seeing that they could not get away--the shallops were forced to turn about and retrace their pa.s.sage. The pursuing boat swung, also--like a shadow of the first. Sir Walter's heart beat tumultuously.

When the fugitives reached Greenwich--Stukeley stood up and appeared in his true colors. Laying a hand upon the shoulder of faithful Captain King, he cried--

"I arrest you in the name of our Monarch, James First!"

Raleigh looked around in anger and dismay.

"Stukeley," he said with heat, "you are a trait'rous cur. These actions will not turn out to your credit!"

But the knave laughed derisively,--so derisively that the common people dubbed him "Sir Judas Stukeley." And it well suited him. Didn't it?

The boatmen rowed directly to the Tower and the boat which had pursued the wherries--which contained a courtier named Herbert (to whom Stukeley had betrayed the projected escape)--followed them close. The soldiers in her (for they had been well hidden) escorted the dejected Sir Walter to the grim walls of the dungeon.

There was now no hope for that gallant adventurer: the man had brought honor and renown to England. He was tried for Treason: condemned: executed.

As he stood waiting for the axe to fall, he said:

"I have many sins for which to beseech G.o.d's pardon. For a long time my course was a course of vanity. I have been a seafaring man, a soldier, and a courtier; and, in the temptations of the least of these there is enough to overthrow a good mind and a good man. I die in the faith professed by the Church of England. I hope to be saved, and to have my sins washed away by the precious blood and merits of our Saviour, Jesus Christ."

A quick shudder ran through the mult.i.tude when Sir Walter had ceased to live, and many groaned aloud at the horrible sight. One stout yeoman cried out angrily, "We have not had such another head to be cut off."

The crowd separated slowly, muttering and crying out against the enemies of the valiant man; while his friends, who were present, parted with tears coursing down their cheeks.

And the jealous courtiers said: "Magnificent!" It was now their turn to shout. And they did it, too.

So, you see, Sir Walter Raleigh's patriotism was paid for by death.

The trouble with him was, he was too much of a man.

_Nowadays_--when a soldier or sailor does something for England--they give him a Hip! Hip! Hurray!

He is appreciated. He is presented with t.i.tles, honors, and a warm reception.

_Then_, when a man did something for England, those in power gave him the cold shoulder; the icy stare.

That's the reason why England's sons will do something for her now. If she had kept treating them as she did Sir Walter Raleigh she wouldn't have many of them around when it came to a fight. _And, some day, she'll need them all!_

So when a fellow does something really great, don't greet him with frozen silence. _Cheer! He needs it! Besides,--it won't hurt you!_

_Give a tiger and three times three!_

THE VANISHED SAILORS

Say, sailors, what's happened to young Bill Jones?

Jones of Yarmouth; the bright-cheeked boy?

Jones who could handle a boat like a man, Jones, who would grapple a smack like a toy?

"_Fell o'er the sea-end with Raleigh. Ahoy!_"

Well, sea-dogs, where's Thompson of Yarmouthport dock?

The chap who could outwit old Hawkins, they say, The man with th' knowledge of charts and of reefs, There wasn't his equal from Prawle to Torquay.

"_Fell o'er the sea-end with Raleigh, to-day!_"