Westward Ho! Or, The Voyages and Adventures of Sir Amyas Leigh, Knight, of Burrough, in the County of Devon, in the Reign of Her Most Glorious Majesty Queen Elizabeth by - (best books to read for self development TXT) 📕

face, works is the trade!” with a nudge in Amyas's ribs. “Faith can't save, nor charity nether. There, you tell with him, while I go play bowls with Drake. He'll tell you a sight of stories. You ask him about good King Hal, now, just—”

And off waddled the Port Admiral.

“You have seen good King Henry, then, father?” said Amyas, interested.

The old man's eyes lighted at once, and he stopped mumbling his sugar.

“Seed mun? Iss, I reckon. I was with Captain Will when he went to meet the Frenchman there to Calais—at the Field, the Field—”

“The Field of the Cloth of Gold, gramfer,” suggested the dame.

“That's it. Seed mun? Iss, fegs. Oh, he was a king! The face o' mun like a rising sun, and the back o' mun so broad as that there” (and he held out his palsied arms), “and the voice of mun! Oh, to hear mun swear if he was merry, oh, 'tas royal!—Seed mun? Iss, fegs! And I've seed mun do what few has; I've seed mun christle like any child.”

“What—cry?” said Amyas. “I shouldn't have thought there was much cry in him.”

“You think what you like—”

“Gramfer, gramfer, don't you be rude, now—

“Let him go on,” said Amyas.

“I seed mun christle; and, oh dear, how he did put hands on mun's face; and 'Oh, my gentlemen,' says he, 'my gentlemen! Oh, my gallant men!' Them was his very words.”

“But when?”

“Why, Captain Will had just come to the Hard—that's to Portsmouth—to speak with mun, and the barge Royal lay again the Hard—so; and our boot alongside—so; and the king he standth as it might be there, above my head, on the quay edge, and she come in near abreast of us, looking most royal to behold, poor dear! and went to cast about. And Captain Will, saith he, 'Them lower ports is cruel near the water;' for she had not more than a sixteen inches to spare in the nether overloop, as I heard after. And saith he, 'That won't do for going to windward in a say, Martin.' And as the words came out of mun's mouth, your worship, there was a bit of a flaw from the westward, sharp like, and overboard goeth my cap, and hitth against the wall, and as I stooped to pick it up, I heard a cry, and it was all over!”

“He is telling of the Mary Rose, sir.”

“I guessed so.”

“All over: and the cry of mun, and the screech of mun! Oh, sir, up to the very heavens! And the king he screeched right out like any maid, 'Oh my gentlemen, oh my gallant men!' and as she lay on her beam-ends, sir, and just a-settling, the very last souls I seen was that man's father, and that man's. I knowed mun by their armor.”

And he pointed to Sir George Carew and Sir Richard Grenville.

“Iss! Iss! Drowned like rattens. Drowned like rattens!”

“Now; you mustn't trouble his worship any more.”

“Trouble? Let him tell till midnight, I shall be well pleased,” said Amyas, sitting down on the bench by him. “Drawer! ale—and a parcel of tobacco.”

And Amyas settled himself to listen, while the old man purred to himself—

“Iss. They likes to hear old Martin. All the captains look upon old Martin.”

“Hillo, Amyas!” said Cary, “who's your friend? Here's a man been telling me wonders about the River Plate. We should go thither for luck there next time.”

“River Plate?” said old Martin. “It's I knows about the River Plate; none so well. Who'd ever been there, nor heard of it nether, before Captain Will and me went, and I lived among the savages a whole year; and audacious civil I found 'em if they 'd had but shirts to their backs; and so was the prince o' mun, that Captain Will brought home to King Henry; leastwise he died on the voyage; but the wild folk took it cruel well, for you see, we was always as civil with them as Christians, and if we hadn't been, I should not have been here now.”

“What year was that?”

“In the fifteen thirty: but I was there afore, and learnt the speech o' mun; and that's why Captain Will left me to a hostage, when he tuked their prince.”

“Before that?” said Cary; “why, the country was hardly known before that.”

The old man's eyes flashed up in triumph.

“Knowed? Iss, and you may well say that! Look ye here! Look to mun!” and he waved his hand round—“There's captains! and I'm the father of 'em all now, now poor Captain Will's in gloory; I, Martin Cockrem! . . . Iss, I've seen a change. I mind when Tavistock Abbey was so full o' friars, and goolden idols, and sich noxious trade, as ever was a wheat-rick of rats. I mind the fight off Brest in the French wars—Oh, that was a fight, surely!—when the Regent and the French Carack were burnt side by side, being fast grappled, you see, because of Sir Thomas Knivet; and Captain Will gave him warning as he ran a-past us, saying, says he—”

“But,” said Amyas, seeing that the old man was wandering away, “what do you mind about America?”

“America? I should think so! But I was a-going to tell you of the Regent—and seven hundred Englishmen burnt and drowned in her, and nine hundred French in the Brest ship, besides what we picked up. Oh dear! But about America.”

“Yes, about America. How are you the father of all the captains?”

“How? you ask my young master! Why, before the fifteen thirty, I was up the Plate with Cabot (and a cruel fractious ontrustful fellow he was, like all they Portingals), and bid there a year and more, and up the Paraguaio with him, diskivering no end; whereby, gentles, I was the first Englishman, I hold, that ever sot a foot on the New World, I was!”

“Then here's your health, and long life, sir!” said Amyas and Cary.

“Long life? Iss, fegs, I reckon, long enough a'ready! Why, I mind the beginning of it all, I do. I mind when there wasn't a master mariner to Plymouth, that thought there was aught west of the Land's End except herrings. Why, they held them, pure wratches, that if you sailed right west away far enough, you'd surely come to the edge, and fall over cleve. Iss—'Twas dark parts round here, till Captain Will arose; and the first of it I mind was inside the bar of San Lucar, and he and I were boys about a ten year old, aboord of a Dartmouth ship, and went for wine, and there come in over the bar he that was the beginning of it all.”

“Columbus?”

“Iss, fegs, he did, not a pistol-shot from us; and I saw mun stand on the poop, so plain as I see you; no