Raleigh feels it much safer to write “of the elder times.”  But even so, he says there may be people who will think “that in speaking of the past I point at the present,” and that under the names of those long dead he is showing the vices of people who are alive.  “But this I cannot help though innocent,” he says.  Raleigh’s fears were not without ground and at one time his history was forbidden by King James “for being too saucy in censuring princes.  He took it much to heart, for he thought he had won his spurs and pleased the King extraordinarily,” He had hoped to please the King and win freedom again, but his hopes were shattered.

At last, however, the door of his prison was opened.  It was a golden key that opened it.  For Raleigh promised, if he were set free, to seek once more the fabled Golden City, and this time he swore to find it and bring home treasure untold to his master the King.

So once more the imprisoned sea-bird was free, and gathering men and ships he set forth on his last voyage.  He set forth bearing with him all his hopes, all his fortune.  For both Raleigh and his wife almost beggared themselves to get money to fit out the fleet, and with him as captain sailed his young son Walter.

A year later Raleigh returned.  But he returned without his son, with hopes broken, fortune lost.  Many fights and storms had he endured, many hardships suffered, but he had not found the Golden City.  His money was spent, his ships shattered, his men in mutiny, and hardest of all to bear, his young son Walter lay dead in far Guiana, slain in a fight with Spaniards.  How Raleigh grieved we learn from his letter to his wife, “I was loath to write,” he says, “because I knew not how to comfort you; and, God knows, I never knew what sorrow meant till now. . . .  Comfort your heart, dearest Bess, I shall sorrow for us both, I shall sorrow less because I have not long to sorrow, because not long to live. . . .  I have written but that letter, for my brains are broken, and it is a torment for me to write, and especially of misery. . . .  The Lord bless and comfort you that you may bear patiently the death of your most valiant son.”

Raleigh came home a sad and ruined man, and had the pity of the King been as easily aroused as his fear of the Spaniards he had surely been allowed to live out the rest of his life in peaceful quiet.  But James, who shuddered at the sight of a drawn sword, feared the Spaniards and had patched up an imaginary peace with them.  And now when the Spanish Ambassador rushed into the King’s Chamber crying “Pirates!  Pirates!” Raleigh’s fate was sealed.

Raleigh had broken the peace in land belonging to “our dear brother the King of Spain” said James, therefore he must die.

Thus once again, Raleigh found himself lodged in the Tower.  But so clearly did he show that he had broken no peace where no peace was, that it was found impossible to put him to death because of what he had done in Guiana.  He was condemned to death, therefore, on the old charge of treason passed upon him nearly fifteen years before.  He met death bravely and smiling.  Clad in splendid clothes such as he loved, he mounted the scaffold and made his farewell speech to those around.