Francis Drake's Story! :-

Chapter XIX: The Metamorphoses!

Our visit to London and our audience with Queen Elizabeth at the Palace was unforgettable. It was always a distinctive experience, visiting the great city; the sights and sounds of a population of some 42,000, the crowded streets, the busy markets, and the perpetual smell of horses and unwashed humanity. 

And on this splendid occasion there was, in addition, a brand new sound. It was the bong, bong, bong of huge church bells. They were ringing from the towers of the flourishing Westminster Abbey, and from the great ancient Gothic cathedral of St Paul's, one of the largest cathedrals in Europe - with the tallest spire ever to be built in the country. These two major institutions had engaged a new specialist foundry in the green fields of Whitechapel, just to the east of St Paul's, to cast some bells for them. It wouldn't be long before this new music was pealing from every church-tower in the land. Today these first innovative cathedral-bells were being rung in honour of our master; a truly significant occurrence.

To my sensitive nostrils the reek of massed humanity, with their unhygienic mid-street sewage systems emptying untreated filth into the river Thames, was somewhat overpowering. A nimble awareness of maids tipping chamber-pots from upstairs' windows without warning, was highly essential. At this unsettled time these undesirable traits were, in spite of everything, supplemented by another more sinister spectacle. At some street corners there were still gibbets on which the bodies of political or religious unfortunates were hanging; left to starkly remind the local populace where there loyalties must lie. These wretched creatures, who had the misfortune to be born in the wrong place, to the wrong parents, worshipped the wrong god, supported the wrong political faction, or had the wrong skin-colour, paid the ultimate price for their 'waywardness'. (Sam said that Francis was fighting for the time when all this bloodshed would be banished to history.)

Eventually we found our way to St James's Palace where we were courteously shown into an ante-room. When the Queen entered the throne room  and was seated we and our treasure chest were ushered in. (I have never seen the Master bow lower!) Then Francis gave Sam the signal, whereupon he beat a handsome drum-roll and tattoo, which he'd been practising for days, to the delight of everyone present. The chest was then opened by Francis and presented to Her Majesty. (I have seldom observed eyes [green or blue] popping wider!) Then a minstrel entered and struck up with a musical 'thank you'. It was an eye-watering moment as we realised that this was no ordinary minstrel; this was our Louis who had deservedly made it to the highest musical rank in the country. Afterwards we greeted each other warmly and he enquired after Liz, wondering if she would oblige them with a recital of her wonderful singing, and possibly bring some of her sketches to show the Queen. This was happily agreed with details to be arranged later

We then settled down in Devon to a fairly stable lifestyle; re-designing and building our small fleet, and spending our wealth on property and other little treats. Some time later Francis was approached by non other than the Earl of Essex to serve Her Majesty in Ireland with our fast newly designed and well armed ships. Drake, always ready to accept a nautical challenge - especially one requested by Queen Elizabeth - accepted the commission with alacrity, 

Walter Devereux, Earl of Essex, had approached Francis on the recommendation of John Hawkins, to use some of his ships and men to help pacify and colonize Ulster. This was a troublesome part of Ireland. Elizabeth's father, King Henry VIII, had instilled in his subjects the necessity to retain control of Ireland as a bastion against foreign invasion (particularly Spanish) on the vulnerable west flank of the British Isles. Drake's most important Irish battle was probably the capture of Rathlin Island - an L shaped island, 3 miles off the north-east coast of Ireland and 13 miles from the Scottish Western Isles, and surrounded by treacherous seas. The island fortress consisted of a castle, high up on sheer cliffs, surrounded by seemingly impenetrable bogs and marshes.

Irish chiefs', including Sorley Boy MacDonnell's, wives and families were sent there to a 'safe haven'. In the evening young women could be heard singing and dancing, believing themselves to be secure from the English invader. [If we listen carefully perhaps we can hear from within the walls (and sing) some MusicSmiles arrangements of two lovely, famous Irish folk songs (Click link < < < to hear - Then Back-button top left to return)] 

Whilst in Ireland Francis met with and befriended a likeable young soldier of high rank called Thomas Doughty. Thomas was an aide to the Earl of Essex and hence not without some influence with the nobility and the Queen - a fact that had not escaped the notice of our politically astute Francis. They immediately became firm friends, a close bond which lasted several years, only broken by later tragic events which we will come to in due course. (I have to say that I wasn't completely taken in by Doughty's over-polite manner and suspected his smooth style of operating. But how could I communicate these idiosyncratic feelings to the Cap'n?)

During the early part of the siege of Rathlin Island, Francis was instructed to land and man two heavy siege guns from his ship to bombard the fortress. It took three whole days and nights of continuous pounding to breach the thick defences. Once these had been ruptured, however, the castle captain came out to surrender and plead for clemency for all the women and children. Drake, true to his own personal disposition, was of the opinion that the surrender of the island castle should earn the civilian inhabitants their unharmed release and transportation to Scotland. However, Norris, who was in charge of the soldiers and land forces, disagreed and ordered Drake to sea to block any future supplies or reinforcements intended for the island. In his absence the result was a blood  bath. Every man woman and child in the castle was ruthlessly put to death. Furthermore all who had escaped to hide in caves and in the marshes were hunted down and murdered. Only the castle captain's family was allowed to go free. The soldiers also seized 300 cows, 3,000 sheep and 100 horses; in addition they confiscated a large quantity of corn - enough to feed 200 men for a year. 

Queen Elizabeth was officially informed of the 'victory' and congratulated the earl on his success - almost certainly unaware  of the full facts and particularly of the gratuitous barbarity of Norris's actions. She had previously cautioned Essex against unnecessary bloodshed. Meanwhile Drake's frigates captured or destroyed 11 Scottish galleys between the Irish island and the Scottish Isles. His ships continued to patrol the Irish Sea, fending off Scottish mercenaries and supplies to Ulster. In so doing he defended the newly established English garrison on Rathlin Island. There was no water-well on the island so even  fresh drinking water had to be imported from the mainland. Drake was also involved in this operation - believing he was servicing the civilian population as well as the garrison. Click thumbnail > > > to see picture of sailing ships - Then Back-button top left to return).

One evening on the way home we called in Belfast to take on water, repair our ships and supplement our supplies. Whilst sitting on the shore of Belfast Lough eating our evening meal an old itinerant Irishman from the north of Antrim joined us. While talking we asked him if he knew anything about the rock formation to the north of  where he lived called The Giant's Causeway. His eyes lit up and this is what he told us . . .

'Once upon a time - long ago in the mists of antiquity there lived a giant called Finn McCool (or, as some called him: Fionn MacCool) with his wife Oonagh. They lived in a castle in the north of Antrim (although it may not have been called that then!) overlooking the sea. And he was reputed to be able to lift one-hundred men with one of his enormous hands. However, a Scottish giant from across the water called Angus (or as some knew him - Fingas Fingal) frequently [at a distance] challenged him to a fight to determine who was the greatest, the most powerful boss giant. Oonagh had told Finn that Fingal was reputedly twice his size and warned him to be careful. Day after day these two giants hurled rocks at each other across the rough and tempestuous sea. and as time went by these formed a causeway that spanned the gap from Ireland to the Scottish Isles. 

At that the Irishman thanked us for our hospitality, got up and and went on his way. We pondered his story for some time. Which was the more plausible - the volcanic eruption or the battle of the giants? (I think I know which explanation carries the most weight, although you may not agree. But then we are all entitled to our opinions on how these phenomena were created) Or, maybe some day someone will come up with the definitive answer . . .

Francis was eventually appraised of the news of Norris's actions. Sickened and appalled by this wanton slaughter of innocents, he withdrew his support for any further involvement in Ireland - a land which he and many others regarded as a most beautiful island and people. He immediately returned to Devon to develop (with John Hawkins) his designs on fighting ships - about which he had learned a great deal in his skirmishes in the Caribbean and the Irish Sea.

Francis Drake's Story! :-

Chapter XX: Globe Trotting!