and other places; a Spanish peerage was given him
together with L40,000, which was to be used for equipping
the privateer fleet. The money was duly paid in
London, and possibly some of it was used for repairing
the British squadron which Hawkins had pronounced
as being composed of the finest ships in the world
for him to hand over to Philip, even though they had
been neglected owing to the Queen’s meanness.
The plausible way in which the great seaman put this
proposition caught the imagination of the negotiators.
They were captivated by him. He had caused them
to believe that he was a genuine seceder from heresy
and from allegiance to the Queen of England, and was
anxious to avow his penitence for the great sins he
had committed against God and the only true faith,
and to make atonement for them in befitting humility.
All he asked for was forgiveness, and in the fullness
of magnanimity they were possibly moved to ask if,
in addition to forgiveness, a Spanish peerage, and
L40,000, he would like to commemorate the occasion
of his conversion by a further token of His Spanish
Majesty’s favour. It is easy to picture
the apparent indifference with which he suggested that
he did not ask for favours, but if he were to ask
for anything, it would be the release from the Inquisition
galleys of a few poor sailor prisoners. The apparently
modest request was granted. Hawkins had risked
his life to accomplish this, and now he writes a letter
to Cecil beginning “My very good Lord.”
I do not give the whole of the letter. Suffice
it to say that he confirms the success of the plot
so far as he is concerned, and in a last paragraph
he says, “I have sent your Lordship the copy
of my pardon from the King of Spain, in the order
and manner I have it, with my great titles and honours
from the King, from which God deliver me.”
The process by which Hawkins succeeded in obtaining
the object he had in view was the conception of no
ordinary man. We talk and write of his wonderful
accomplishments on sea and land, as a skilful, brave
sailor, but he was more than that. He was, in
many respects, a genius, and his courage and resolution
were unfailingly magnificent.
I dare say the prank he played on Philip and his advisers
would be regarded as unworthy cunning, and an outrage
on the rules of high honour. Good Protestant
Christians disapproved then, as now, the wickedness
of thus gambling with religion to attain any object
whatsoever, and especially of swearing by the Mother
of God the renunciation of the Protestant faith and
the adoption of Roman Catholicism. The Spaniards,
who had a hand in this nefarious proceeding, were
quite convinced that, though Hawkins had been a pirate
and a sea robber and murderer, now that he had come
over to their faith the predisposition to his former
evil habits would leave him. These were the high
moral grounds on which was based the resolve to execute
Elizabeth and a large number of her subjects, and take
possession of the throne and private property at their