end of the Spanish invasion
of England. He could not venture without asking first for his mistress's
permission. He knew her nature. He knew that his services at Cadiz would
outweigh his disregard of her orders, and that so far he had nothing to
fear; but he knew also that she was still hankering after peace, and
that without her leave he must do nothing to make peace impossible.
There is a letter from him to the Queen, written when he was lying off
Lisbon, very characteristic of the time and the man.

Nelson or Lord St. Vincent did not talk much of expecting supernatural
assistance. If they had we should suspect them of using language
conventionally which they would have done better to leave alone. Sir
Francis Drake, like his other great contemporaries, believed that he was
engaged in a holy cause, and was not afraid or ashamed to say so. His
object was to protest against a recall in the flow of victory. The
Spaniards, he said, were but mortal men. They were enemies of the Truth,
upholders of Dagon's image, which had fallen in other days before the
Ark, and would fall again if boldly defied. So long as he had ships
that would float, and there was food on board them for the men to eat,
he entreated her to let him stay and strike whenever a chance was
offered him. The continuing to the end yielded the true glory. When men
were serving religion and their country, a merciful God, it was likely,
would give them victory, and Satan and his angels should not prevail.

All in good time. Another year and Drake would have the chance he
wanted. For the moment Satan had prevailed--Satan in the shape of
Elizabeth's Catholic advisers. Her answer came. It was warm and
generous. She did not, could not, blame him for what he had done so far,
but she desired him to provoke the King of Spain no further. The
negotiations for peace had opened, and must not be interfered with.

This prohibition from the Queen prevented, perhaps, what would have been
the most remarkable exploit in English naval history. As matters stood
it would have been perfectly possible for Drake to have gone into the
Tagus, and if he could not have burnt the galleons he could certainly
have come away unhurt. He had guessed their condition with entire
correctness. The ships were there, but the ships' companies were not on
board them. Santa Cruz himself admitted that if Drake had gone in he
could have himself done nothing 'por falta de gente' (for want of men).
And Drake