bey him. He was not only an
invincible crusader, but one of those rare personalities who have the
power of infusing into his comrades his own courage and enthusiasm.
The Spanish said he was "a magician who had sold his soul to the
devil." The Spanish sailors, and Philip himself, together with his
nobles, were terror-stricken at the mention of his name. He was to
them an invincible dragon. Santa Cruz warned his compatriots that the
heretics "had teeth, and could use them." Here is another instance,
selected from many, of the fanatical superstitions concerning Drake's
irresistible power. Medina Sidonia had deserted the Andalusian
squadron. Drake came across the flagship. Her commander said he was
Don Pedro de Valdes, and could only surrender on honourable terms. The
English commander replied, "I am Drake, and have no time to parley.
Don Pedro must surrender or fight." So Don Pedro surrendered to the
gallant captain of the _Revenge_, and lavished him with praise,
evidently glad to have fallen into the hands of so famous and generous
a foe. Drake is said to have treated his captive with elaborate
generosity, while his crew commandeered all the vast treasure. He then
sent the galleon into Dartmouth Harbour, and set off with his
prisoners to chase Medina Sidonia.

In the whole range of Drake's adventurous career there does not appear
to be any evidence of his having been possessed with the idea of
supernatural assistance, though if perchance he missed any of Philip's
treasure-ships he complacently reported "the reason" to those in
authority as "being best known to God," and there the incident ended.
On the other hand, the Deity was no mystery to him. His belief in a
Supreme Power was real, and that he worked in harmony with It he never
doubted. When he came across anything on land or sea which he thought
should be appropriated for the benefit of his Queen and country, or
for himself and those who were associated with him in his piratical
enterprises, nothing was allowed to stand in his way, and, generally
speaking, he paralysed all resistance to his arms into submission by
an inexorable will and genius. The parsimonious Elizabeth was always
slyly willing to receive the proceeds of his dashing deeds, but never
unduly generous in fixing his share of them. She allowed her ships to
lie rotting when they should have been kept in sound and efficient
condition, and her sailors to starve in the streets and seaports.
Never a care was