CHAPTER 19 Sir Humphrey Gilbert He sat upon the deck. The book was in his hand. Do not fear. Heaven is as near, he said, by water as by land. Longfellow Elizabeth had been queen of England for twenty years before any steps were taken to colonize the New World, towards which all eyes were turned. But while she and her adventurers were dazzled by dreams of gold in the frozen regions of the North, one of her subjects was watching the English fishermen on the coast of Newfoundland and planning homes for them in America. This man was Sir Humphrey Gilbert. Year by year ships came from Spain and Portugal, England and France, to the shores of this Newfoundland, and here it was that Gilbert planned a little colony of his own countrymen. His most faithful friend and advisor was his stepbrother Walter Raleigh, who was hereafter to play a large part among Elizabeth's seamen. Both were Devonshire men, like Drake and Hawkins, but Gilbert was among the first Englishmen to see that the love of adventure, which was leading so many at this time to annoy the Spaniards, might be turned to a better account. England, he thought, was playing an ignoble part, instead of taking the lead in voyages of discovery as she might have done, with the best of ships and sailors, she had given herself up to plundering the treasure ships of Spain. Drake was the hero of the hour. The Queen herself had shared his ill-gotten plunder. The cry of Elizabeth's England was for gold. So when Gilbert undertook the task of carrying English colonists to the shores of the New World, Elizabeth tried to turn him from his purpose. He was willing to brave the displeasure of his royal mistress. There was no gold to be got out of his lofty scheme, but he stood firm. He had dreams of making his colony a starting point for the Northwest Passage. He was no common adventurer. He had a great mind and a great soul. He is not worthy to live at all, that, for fear or danger of death, Shuneth his country's service and his own honor. Seeing death is inevitable, and the fame of virtue immortal. He used to say when pleading for the Arctic voyage. In 1578, when Drake was sailing round the world in his little pelican, and Frobisher was fighting his way amid the frozen seas of the North, Sir Huntfrey Gilbert was collecting ships and men to plant his colony over the seas. With eleven ships and some five hundred men he sailed across the Atlantic Ocean to Newfoundland. But from the very beginning the expedition was a failure. One of the ships was lost, and misfortune after misfortune compelled the rest to return. Undaunted he tried again. With Walter Raleigh's help he fitted out a second expedition. In 1583 the little fleet left England with a parting gift from the Queen in the shape of a golden anchor. But again a series of disasters overtook the expedition. Two days after leaving Harbour the largest ship in the fleet deserted. Angrily Gilbert sailed on without it, arriving in safety on the shores of Newfoundland. Summoning Spanish and Portuguese together he raised a pillar with the arms of England engraved on it, and formally took possession of the country in the Queen's name. But it was not easy to keep order. The sailors, after the manner of their day, were lawless adventurers, pirates, and drivers. They only wanted to make their fortune. They had no industry, perseverance, or endurance, qualities needed for all colonization. Everything went wrong, and at last the would-be colonist begged to be taken home. Only two ships were left, the Squirrel and the Golden Hind. Gilbert commanded the Squirrel, the smallest of the two, and totally unfit to pass through the Ocean Sea at that season of the year. But I will not forsake my little company going homeward, with whom I have passed through so many storms and perils, said their commander. The weather was very wild. The oldest sailor on board had never seen more outrageous seas. The Squirrel could not weather them, and one night she foundered with all hands. Gilbert was last seen, his Bible in his hand, bidding his terrified companions, be of good cheer. We are as near to heaven by water as by land. He cried as the little Squirrel went down into the deep Atlantic with her brave commander. Though he failed, Sir Humphrey Gilbert was called the father of American colonization, because it was he who first turned men's thoughts from plundering exploits to the higher aims of civilization. The silent ocean of the past, a waste of water weltering overgraves, Cullen Bryant. Though Sir Humphrey Gilbert had laid down his life, his efforts at colonization had not been in vain. His step-brother, Sir Walter Raleigh, now took up his work in something of the same spirit, though his efforts too were doomed to failure. At this time Raleigh was in high favor at the court of Elizabeth, and she readily helped him to follow in Gilbert Steppes and found a colony in America. So on April 27, 1584, two sea captains with their ships left England to find some suitable part of the country with good soil, good water, and possibly gold, as yet unclaimed by Spaniards. The sea captains, following the track of Columbus, sailed to the West Indies, whence they coasted northward some 120 miles and entered a harbor which seemed promising. They knelt down, thanked God for their safe arrival, and took possession of the country in the name of Queen Elizabeth and her courtier, Raleigh. The beauty of the new country filled them with rapture. Wild grapes grew in plenty. The forests were filled with birds. The air was delicious. The growth luxuriant. There was no doubt this would make a grand sight for the first English colony over the seas. Would the native Indians object? Oh, no! said the sea captains when they arrived in England. The natives were most gentle, loving and faithful, void of all guile and treason, and such as lived after the manner of the golden age. Raleigh listened to this glowing account, and decided to begin a colony there at once. This fame rose higher than ever, for he had given to his queen a new country, to which she now gave the name of Virginia, after herself, the Virgin Queen, while Raleigh was to become Lord and Governor of Virginia. Seven ships and a hundred colonists were soon ready, under the command of Sir Richard Grenville, who with Drake, Hawkins, and Frobisher stood in the forefront of Elizabeth's sea-heroes. After eighty days on the high seas, Grenville's fleet arrived on the coast of Virginia. All looked fair and prosperous. It is the goodliest soil under heaven, the paradise of the world, said Sir Richard Grenville with enthusiasm, as he set to work to make the new colony a success. But his little band of Englishmen turned out to be gold seekers rather than colonists. They lived on food furnished by the Indians, while they made search for gold, until the day came that the Indians turned on them. Fighting took place, and the supply of food was stopped. Matters grew from bad to worse. Starvation stared them in the face. Their commander had sailed to England for help. They were in despair when an English ship one day hoved in sight, with Sir Francis Drake on board, bringing aid for the colony. With one accord the would-be colonists begged to be taken home, and Drake could not refuse them. One and all embarked for England, and so perished the next attempt at colonizing Virginia. An old story tells us that these colonists first brought the tobacco plant back to England, for they had learnt to smoke from the Indians. But we know now that Hawkins had already introduced it into England years before this, and that Drake and Raleigh were both great smokers. One day, the story runs, Raleigh sat smoking his pipe, when his servant entered his room with a flask of spiced ale. A guest at seeing smoke coming from his master's mouth, as if he were on fire, he dashed the contents of the flask into Raleigh's face. The first potato is said to have been planted in Ireland by Sir Walter Raleigh, though again Hawkins and Drake had been before him by introducing it into England and Germany. And a German poet, Hein, quaintly remarked, Luther shook Germany to its foundation. But Drake pacified it again. He gave us the potato. Yet once more Raleigh fitted out a colony for Virginia. This time seventeen women were sent to make comfortable the new homes beyond the sea. Under the command of John White they sailed away for the New World. But again they were doomed to failure. The Indians refused help and food, and fighting took place. The only brightness amid the general gloom was the birth of a child, the first English baby born in America, called after the colony, Virginia. Matters grew worse, and John White sailed to England for help. He arrived to find the Spanish Armada threatening the invasion of England. No one had any thoughts for the distant colony in the far west. The Armada came and went before anything was done, and when White at last reached the shores of Virginia he found the place, a desert. Every trace of the colonists gone. Nor was anything ever heard of them again. And so perished Raleigh's second attempt at colonizing an America. He fitted out no more expeditions, and it was many years before anything further was done in this direction. Fall into the hands of God, not into the hands of Spain. Tennison Though Sir Richard Grenville had not succeeded with the first colony in Virginia, yet he was a very able sailor, and Raleigh now sent him on an important expedition to lie and wait for Spanish ships returning laden from the West Indies. Midway between Spain and the West Indies, in the midst of the Atlantic Ocean, is a little group of islands called the Azores. Thither sailed the English fleet, consisting of six battleships only, to obey orders. The ships were lying at anchor under one of the islands, called Floris, one summer day, when a Spanish fleet of fifty sail bore down upon them. It was certain death to fight so large a number, and there was no choice but to sail away as fast as possible and escape. The English ships were soon ready, all save one, the Revenge. She was under the command of Sir Richard Grenville. I have ninety-six men ashore, he said. I cannot, and will not leave them to fall into the hands of Spain. With his own hands he helped to carry the sick men on board as fast as possible, so that he might sail away with the rest. But it took time, and the little Revenge had not sailed far, when the Spanish fleet bore down. By this time the rest of the English fleet had gone, and the Revenge was alone. We will fight our way through the Spanish fleet, or we will die, cried Sir Richard. His men caught the brave enthusiasm, and steered their ship on into almost certain death. The Spanish ships came on, sometimes five at a time, and the Spaniards boarded the little English ship and fought her sailors hand to hand, but each time they were driven back, disabled. All through the long August night the fight continued, but each great Spanish galleon was defeated in turn, until by dawn fifteen had attacked her in vain. Some had been sunk at her side, and others were ashamed to attempt further fighting. And the night went down, and the sun smiled out, far over the sea. Fight on, fight on, cried Sir Richard, though badly wounded himself, and his vessel all but a wreck. Fight on, men of Devon, fight on. But as the day increased, so our men decreased, said Raleigh when he told the story afterwards. At last forty men of the hundred were slain, the masts of the Revenge were broken, the powder spent, and the deck strewn with wounded and dying. The Spanish ships lay round in a broken ring, watching to see what would happen next. They knew she could fight no more, still Grenville would not surrender. No, he cried, rather we will sink the ship, that nothing of glory or victory may remain to the Spaniards. Let us fall into the hands of God, not into the hands of Spain. The gunner was a resolute man, he was ready to do his master's bidding, but it was too much to ask of all. They had wives and children waiting for them at home. Sir Richard now lay dying, and his seamen yielded to the Spaniards. They carried Sir Richard Grenville to the largest of the Spanish ships. If unequal to the English in fighting, the Spaniards were at least their equal in courtesy. They bore Sir Richard to the flagship and laid him by the mast while Admiral and men alike praised his valor and resolution. A few hours later, when the end was fast approaching, Sir Richard cried. Here die I, Richard Grenville, with a joyful and quiet mind, for that I have ended my life as a true soldier ought to do that hath thought for his country, queen, religion, and honor. All England was soon ringing with this story. Sir Richard Grenville was dead. He had lost the fight, lost his men, lost his ship, lost his very life. That he had gained such glory for England, for England's ships, for England's seamen, as the world had never seen before. It is said that the action of this one little English ship struck a deeper terror into the parts of the Spaniards than even the destruction of the Armada herself. Hardly, says a modern historian, if the most glorious actions, which are set like jewels in the history of mankind, are weighed one against the other in the balance, hardly will those 300 Spartans, who in the summer mornings sat combing their long hair for death in the passes of Thermopylae, have earned a more lofty estimate for themselves than this one crew of modern Englishmen. End of Chapter 21 Chapter 22 of The Awakening of Europe This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. The Awakening of Europe by M. B. Singh. Chapter 22 Sir Walter Raleigh God has made nobler heroes, but he never made a finer gentleman than Walter Raleigh. R. L. Stevenson Raleigh had failed with his Virginian colony, but he still had dreams of an English colony elsewhere. The wealth that filled Spain from Mexico and Peru had filled England with envy. To gain a like-rich kingdom for his queen, to extend her power and enrich her treasury, this was Raleigh's dream. With these thoughts in his mind he turned his eyes to Guiana, attractive country in South America, of which dazzling tales had reached his ears. Since the early days of Spanish discovery natives had talked of a city of untold wealth. El Dorado, they called it. It was richer than Peru, they said, and gold was so plentiful that the king was covered with turpentine and rolled in gold dust till he shone with the glory of gold. Expedition after expedition had left Spain for this land of wealth, but all had failed to penetrate the country. No one had yet discovered the fabulous city of El Dorado, though all would journey thither if they could. It was early in the year 1595 that Sir Walter Raleigh left England with five ships for this much-desired land of Guiana. Forty-six days later he reached the island of Trinidad, the port of Spain, as it was called, where he was kindly received by the Spaniards. The early summer found the explorers at the mouth of the river Orinoco, by which they intended to row into the interior of the country. Fortunately for them they fell in with a canoe of Indians. Raleigh, in his eight-ored boat, gave chase and soon made friends with them, taking on board the faithful pilot Ferdinando to guide them up the fast-flowing river into the unknown. "'But for this,' said Raleigh afterwards, I think we had never found the way, either to Guiana or back to the ships. "'Up the Orinoco, mile after mile,' they rowed, but they seemed to get no nearer to El Dorado. Twice they were nearly wrecked, and they were beginning to despair, when suddenly the scenery changed as if by magic. The high banks gave way to low lying plains, soft green grass grew close to the water's edge, and deer came down to feed. Still the strong current continued. Each man had borne his full share of rowing, but the effort of pulling everlastingly against such violence was telling on the staunchest among them. They were now some four hundred miles from their ships, when to add to their troubles a sudden and furious rising of the water took place. "'Whosoever,' says Raleigh, had seen or proved the fury of that river after it began to rise, would perchance have turned his back somewhat sooner than we did, if all the mountains had been gold or precious stones.' Having discovered a good deal about the country from natives, Raleigh turned for home. Wind and stream were with them now, bearing them down with almost alarming rapidity. One day they covered one hundred miles. Raleigh had not found El Dorado, but he returned home enormously impressed with the new country. Guiana is a country that hath yet her maidenhood, he told the queen. The face of the earth hath not been torn. The graves hath not been opened for gold. It hath never been entered by any army of strength, never conquered by any Christian prince. Men shall find here more rich and beautiful cities, more temples adorned with gold than either Cortes found in Mexico or Pizarro in Peru, and the shining glory of this con quest will eclipse all those of the Spanish nation. But this enthusiasm failed to inspire others in England. The queen was growing old, and it was to be many a long year before Raleigh's work was to tell. Twenty-two years passed by, and Raleigh never forgot the glories of Guiana. Elizabeth was dead, and her successor, James, had thrown Raleigh into the Tower of London, where he wrote the beginning of his history of the world, and dreamed his hopeless dreams of colonization. At last he persuaded James to let him go once more to Guiana, where he suggested he could find a gold mine to enrich the English treasury. The rest of the story is sad enough. Storms, desertion, disease, and death followed him from the very first, and ere the expedition had reached the mouth of the Orinoco, Raleigh himself was stricken down and unable to go farther. He sent on his young son, Walter, the little what, of happier days gone by, with a party of men to find the mine, but fighting took place. The wrath of the Spaniards had been roused, young Raleigh was killed, and the Englishman never reached the gold mine. Sadly Raleigh sailed home to England in his little ship, the destiny. For rousing the Spaniards, with whom England was now at peace, he was seized and condemned to die. With the same courtly grace which he had borne through life, he bade farewell to the friends who stood round. With the dignity of a philosopher, the courage of a soldier, the faith of a Christian, he met his death. We have not such another head to be cut off, said one who stood by. Raleigh had failed at the end, and died a broken-hearted adventurer, but his love and faith in the future of England, as the mother of distant empires and the mistress of the seas, have won for him an undying name amid the annals of the world. CHAPTER XXIII. The Fairy Queen. Oh wonder how many goodly creatures are there here! How beautyous mankind is! Oh brave new world, that hath such people ent! Shakespeare. When Sir Walter Raleigh had done chasing the Spanish Armada from Plymouth to the North Sea, he crossed over to Ireland, where he visited his friend Edmund Spencer. That Spencer was a poet of no mean order, Raleigh well knew, but he was hardly prepared for the wonderful new poem that Spencer read to him on this visit, under the name of the Fairy Queen. Here indeed was a poet, the first singer of Elizabeth's newly awakened England, the pioneer of that new glory which burst forth in this marvelous sixteenth century. Elizabeth must hear the poem from the poet's own lips. Together the two men made their way to England and stood before their queen. She listened with rapture. In the Fairy Queen she recognized herself. But the new poem was not for her alone. It was published in 1590 to be received by a burst of welcome, for did it not express the very life of the times. It was the truest picture of the world of mystery and wonder, which was opening before the eyes of the Englishmen. A mixture of the chivalry of the Middle Ages and the new learning which had spread from Italy. Here is one of the stories from the Fairy Queen. In the far-off kingdom of Fairyland stood a splendid city surrounded by a golden wall. Here lived Gloriana, the queen of the fairies, and to her came all noble knights in search of adventure and all persons in distress. One day there arrived a royal maiden named Duna, who had journeyed from the Euphrates, away in the Far East. She had been driven from home by a huge and cruel dragon, which had laid waste the country. The king and queen had fled for safety to a strong castle, and she had come to the Fairy Queen for help. Many a night had tried to slay the monster in vain. It was not long before the young noble, known as the Red Cross Knight, at the palace of Gloriana undertook to go and slay the dragon, if Duna would show him the way.  Soon a storm drove them to shelter in a deep wood, where presently they lost their way. Finding a cave, the young knight dismounted, and in spite of Duna's remonstrances, he looked into a dark hole. By the light of his glittering armor he saw an ugly monster named Error, lying in the cave. After a tremendous struggle he killed the monster and returned to Duna. Fair Knight, you have won glory this day, she said. May all your adventures succeed as well as this. On they went again. But before long the Red Cross Knight was led astray by a false lady, Duessa. Left alone and solitary, Duna wandered through desert and wilderness to find her lost knight. She was lying at rest on the grass, when suddenly a ramping lion rushed out of the wood. With open mouth he rushed at her greedily. But when he saw her nearer he stopped, and instead of devouring her, he kissed her weary feet and licked her white hands. When she rose to go, the lion followed her as her faithful guide. Still searching for her Red Cross Knight, Duna met Prince Arthur, the champion knight of Fairyland. His armor glittered like the rays of the sun. His tunic shone like twinkling stars with precious stones. His helmet was of gold, with a golden dragon. Ever bent on deeds of kindness, Arthur undertook to find for Duna her Red Cross Knight, who was even now languishing in a dark dungeon in the castle of a giant, where dwelt the Fawts Duessa? Horrible to behold was the monster giant, who came forth to meet Arthur. But it was not long before he lay at Arthur's feet. Dead. Then Arthur brought the poor Red Cross Knight, ill and low and weak. Duessa had fled, so they stayed and refreshed themselves at the castle. Then they parted from Arthur, and the knight and his dear Duna went on their way. And at last they arrived at Duna's home. This is the city of the Great King, where eternal peace and happiness dwell. Said an old man, who took the night to a high mountain, from which he could see the Goodly City. The way to it, after long labor, will bring you to joyous rest and endless bliss. And Thou, Fair Knight, dost well to succour this desolate princess, till thou hast rid her of her foe. That done, thou mayest travel this path, which shall lead thee to the Great City. And there, in aftertimes, shout thou be a saint and befriend thine own nation. Saint George of Mary England, shout thou be. His eyes were yet dazzled with the brightness of the distant city, when a hideous roaring sound was heard, that seemed to shake the very earth. It came from a dreadful dragon, stretched on the sunny side of a hill. He was covered with huge brazen scales, which he clashed together with a dreadful noise. His huge tail was wrapped in a hundred folds. His jaws opened like an abyss, showing long ranges of iron teeth. His eyes blazed like fire. Putting Una into a place of safety, the Red Cross Knight advanced fearlessly to his great task. For two days and nights he fought the mighty beast, and at the last he slew it. It was safe now for the King and Queen to appear, for the dragon was slain, and clad in somber robes they came forth, old and hoary with time, to embrace their daughter Una, and to give her in marriage to the conqueror of the dragon, the Red Cross Knight, Saint George of England. The Fairy Queen was the first ideal poem that England produced, the source of her modern poetry. It lifted its readers at once into a clear, pure air. No man can read the Fairy Queen and be anything but the better for it, says a great American writer. The land of Spencer is the land of dreams, but it is also the land of rest. Here may thy storm-beat vessel safely ride. This is the port of rest from Troublas's toil, the world sweetened from pain and weary-some turmoil. End of Chapter 23 Chapter 24 of The Awakening of Europe This is the LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org The Awakening of Europe by M. B. Singh Chapter 24 The Great Dramatist Thou who dits the stars and sunbeams know self-schooled, self-scanned, self-honored, self-secure, dits tread on earth, unguessed at. M. Arnold Of all the great men who added to the glory of Elizabeth's England, William Shakespeare was the greatest, though neither the Queen nor her people realized how great. Of the man himself, the world knows nothing. With his work, the old and new worlds ring even today. Just a poor lad, born of former parents at Stratford on Avon, he made his way to London as an actor and playwriter, and though he became popular, yet no one knew how great he really was till long years after he had died. Now we know that he was one of the greatest world voices, far seeing as the sun, the upper light of the world, one of the greatest men that the world has ever seen. He had little enough book-learning, small Latin and less Greek, but he knew mankind. He understood human nature as rare a gift then as it is now. And by this great gift he could make the people of Elizabeth stay, laugh and cry at will. Men cared about human life.  He tells his hearers of warriors and generals, of old unhappy far-off things and battles long ago. There is a whole play about Julius Caesar and another about Coriolanus. Like Spence or two this poet can take us into the fairy world. His fairy queen is called Titania and the kingdom of the fairies is away in the Indies where the fairy Puck and his comrades circled the earth. These fairies have all the secrets of nature. They dance in the moon-beams and they sleep in the flowers fanned by the wings of painted butterflies. Shakespeare's fun breaks out in the endless blunderings of the comedy of errors as well as in the merry wives of Windsor which he wrote for Queen Elizabeth herself. Though only a country-born lad he called up the spirit of the times and wrote such tragedy and comedy as had not been written since in Greece. Let us take one of his stories and tell it shortly. There was a rich Jew called Shylock living at Venice. There was also a man named Antonio one in whom the ancient Roman honor more appeared than any that drew breath in Italy. There was also a man called Bessaneo a friend of Antonio's who wanted to marry a wealthy lady at Venice called Portia. Would Antonio lend him some money so that he could marry? Now Antonio was expecting some ships back from the east laden with merchandise. So the two friends went to Shylock the rich Jew and asked him to advance some money which should be repaid on the arrival of the ships. Shylock offered a large sum of money making only one condition half ingest, half in earnest that if the money were not paid on the appointed day Shylock should exact a pound of Antonio's flesh to be cut where it pleased him. Antonio signed the bond thinking it was only Mary's sport and took the money so Bessaneo married Portia but that very same day they heard the sad news that Antonio's ships had been lost at sea and that he could never now repay Shylock he had therefore been cast into prison. At once Bessaneo and Portia went in all haste for Venice to save, if possible, the friend who was suffering for them. Portia knew how Bessaneo loved his friend, how he would sacrifice his life itself his wife and all the world for him and she now made a plan. She wrote to her cousin who was going to judge Antonio at the trial and begged to be allowed to plead instead. She dressed up in his robes of law and entered looking round she saw the merciless Shylock. She saw Bessaneo standing by Antonio in an agony of distress. Nobody recognized her and the trial began. Her famous plea for mercy is one of Shakespeare's finest passages, that mercy which dropeth as the gentle rain from heaven upon the place beneath, that Shylock would have no mercy. Antonio's bosom was bared for life, and the scales were ready to weigh the pound of flesh when Portia cried. Tarry a little, there is something else, this bond doth give thee here no jot of blood. The words expressly are a pound of flesh. Now Shylock could not possibly take a pound of flesh without shedding blood. So by her clever action Portia saved the life of Antonio, her husband's friend. Antonio's ships came in after all, and the play ends happily with the joy of Portia and Bessaneo. Shakespeare went on riding long after the death of Elizabeth. His plays grew very serious and thoughtful as life went on. In 1610 he returned from the noisy London theatres to the peace of Stratford on Avon, where a few years later he passed to the undiscovered country from whose born no traveller earns. Shakespeare And what shall we say of this great Queen Elizabeth in whose reign England first rose to be a world power? At the age of twenty-five she had mounted the throne at a moment when the fortunes of the country were low and the mighty Empire of Spain was growing ever more and more mighty. At the age of seventy she died leaving her country united and lost with the power of Spain broken. Though you have had, and may have many princes more mighty and wise sitting in this seat, were her last words to the people, yet you never had anyone that would be more careful and loving. This was true. She had many faults, but she cared for England, and Englishmen rallied round her. With scanty means at her command safely through the dangers which threatened her on every side. Freed from the power of Spain the country began to realize her position with regard to the sea power of Europe. Men awoke to a sense of the great possibilities before their country, and they all worked to make her greater. But it was Elizabeth herself who made it all possible. She who gave to each his opportunity. Thus she had Drake for her captain, Raleigh for her courtier and colonist, Spencer for her poet, and Shakespeare for her dramatist. She herself had been brought up amid the new culture of her father's court. She could shoot and ride. She could dance and play. She was a good Greek scholar and spoke two foreign tongues. Fourteen years old when her father died she had seen her little ten-year-old brother send the throne. On his death six years later she had ridden by the sight of her sister Mary when she was proclaimed queen of England. Mary's marriage with Philip of Spain had brought the country to the verge of war, and it was perhaps well for England that her death five years later set Elizabeth upon the throne. The whole country, now at peace, broke out into world, was poured the wealth of the New World. Spain could no longer keep secret the riches of America. English eyes were strained across the seas. English hands were eagerly grasping the treasure that had belonged to Spain and Portugal for years. For the first time since Vasco de Gama had sailed round the Cape of India and Columbus had discovered America Englishmen dashed aside the curtain drawn by Spain and West in the East and West. Contact with the New World brought commerce. Commerce brought money. Money brought luxury. Personal comforts increased. Carpets replaced the dirty flooring of rushes used up to this time. Pillows came into general use. Wooden plates were replaced by metal or silver. Class windows adorned the new houses and manors which came into the city. With new luxuries and comforts came a love of beauty and display. The queen herself boasted of having three thousand dresses in her wardrobe. Her curdiers fide with one another in the splendor of ruffs and velvet coats. The old ideas of thrift melted before the fortunes made by adventurers sailing to the East or West. Visions of ships laden with sailor while dreams of an El Dorado where everything was made of gold tempted the most indolent beyond the seas. This love of travel quickened men's minds. England was ready for her great awakening. Poets burst forth into song. Writers into prose. The full glory arose with Spencer and his fairy queen. For two hundred years no great poem had broken the silence of English history. It expressed the Elizabethan age as no other poem had done. It did for poetry what William Shakespeare did for the drama representing the very age and body of the time, its form and pressure. So all these men, adventurers, explorers, poets, dramatists, philosophers and statesmen, helped to make Elizabeth's England great, splendid, triumphant fit to take her place in the world's history and to play the great part for which she was destined. With the queen's death in 1603 the golden days ended for a time, but she had fulfilled the prophecy of Shakespeare at her birth. She had showered upon the land a thousand, thousand blessings which time shall bring to rightness. Good had grown with her. Man had sung the merry songs of all his neighbors. Peace, plenty, love, truth, strength. These were her servants. And Shakespeare was but voicing the feelings of the queen when he speaks of this blessed plot, this earth, this realm, this England, this land of such dear souls, this dear, dear land, England bound in with the triumphant sea. End of Chapter 25 Chapter 26 of The Awakening of Europe This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer please visit LibriVox.org The Awakening of Europe by N. B. Singh Chapter 26 First Voyage of the East India Company Whosoever commands the sea commands the trade commands the riches of the world and consequently the world itself. Raleigh Far away in the Arctic regions on a map of the world may be seen the name Davis Straits given to a wide sea between the western coast of Greenland and North America. This sea was discovered by John Davis, one of Elizabeth's most famous explorers, a man who not only did good work at the north but also piloted the first English ship sent by the East India Company to trade with those distant lands henceforth to form so large a part of the British Empire. John Davis was a Devonshire lad like so many of the 16th century sailors. Hunt for Gilbert and Walter Raleigh were his lifelong friends. Hawkins, Drake and Frobisher the inspires of his boyish dreams. Davis saw some time himself when Frobisher sailed forth in the Little Gabriel for the Northwest Passage which attracted so many to that land of ice and peril. But it was not until Frobisher had given up his gallant work to waste his efforts in the search after imaginary gold that John Davis took up his work. To find a shortcut to India by the north by which English ships could reach vessels which haunted the Cape Route this was the dream of Davis. Sailing early in January 1585 in two little ships bearing the romantic names of Sunshine and Moonshine he reached the coast of Greenland and it was Davis who gave the most southern point of that cold land the name of Cape Farewell which it bears today. Three times did he sail to the icy north time reaching a farther point and making fresh important discoveries. To him is due the honor of having rediscovered Greenland which had been lost sight of since the days of the old Vikings two centuries before. He also explored the sea known to us today as Davis Straits. He mapped out the mysterious regions of the north and pointed out the way to those who came after. He lighted Hudson into his bay, but he did more than this by his true hearted devotion to the cause of Arctic discovery by his patient research his dauntless enthusiasm he set an example which became a beacon light to northern explorers of all time. But his last voyage to the north was not successful and the owners of the ships under his charge turned their eyes to India by way of the Cape of Good Hope instead of dreaming of a shorter way by the perilous and ice bound north. The destruction of the Spanish Armada had made the voyage for English ships by the Cape less hazardous than before. England had swept away for a time the fleets of Spain and Portugal and could now undertake safely the long sea route by South Africa in order to bring back rich cargoes from India and the world. These merchant ships had here to fore been fitted out by private people who bought the ships, appointed the commander, and received the reward. Now the merchant princes of England made up their mind to join together in a company to fit out fleets and establish direct trade with India sharing the profits. The queen approved of the arrangement and on the very last day of the sixteenth company, as it was called, was started. Soon a little fleet of ships left England under direction of the company and the chief pilot of the fleet was our old friend of the Arctic Seas, John Davis, on board the Red Dragon. He had but just returned from piloting two Dutch ships, the Lion and the Lioness, under Cornelius Haltman, to Malacca by the Cape of Good Hope for which services he had been ranked. The Dutch had special assistance in their late navigations by the means of Master John Davis, and in return the Dutch do in ample manner required us, acquainting us with their voyages, discoveries, and dangers, both outward and homework. His services were now required by his own countrymen, for this was a memorable voyage, in as much as it laid the foundation of the British East. The ships returned triumphantly from this first expedition under the company, to be received by the news that Queen Elizabeth was dead, that James I was owned the English Throne, and that a Dutch East India company had been formed to rival English trade with India and the East. End of Chapter 26 Chapter 27 of The Awakening of Europe While LibriVox recordings are in the public domain, for more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org The Awakening of Europe by M. B. Singh Chapter 27 The Story of Henry Hudson To achieve what they have undertaken or else to give reason wherefore it will not be Henry Hudson A Dutch East India company had been formed, and one of its neighboring servants was an Englishman, Henry Hudson. His name can never be forgotten, for it is written large on every map of the world. There is a Hudson Bay in North America, Hudson River, on which New York now stands, Hudson Strait, all of which remind us of one of the bravest and ablest seamen that ever lived. The story of his success in the frozen north, his patient endurance of hardships, and his death in the waters of the bay he himself had discovered is a thrilling one in the annals of the sea. Henry Hudson first makes his appearance as a sea captain in 1607, leaving London with the intention of finding a passage to China by the frozen seas of the north. The merchants of London in spite of failure were still bent on finding a northern passage to the lands of spice and gold which were enriching Spain and Portugal. Frobisher and Davis had tried in vain to find a way to the northwest. Other men, notably the Dutchman Barronce and the Englishman Willoughby, had failed to find a passage by the northeast. Now a bolder scheme arose. Was there a sailor daring enough to sail over the mysterious North Pole itself to reach the other side? Yes, Henry Hudson was willing to try. And in a tiny ship with a scanty crew he sailed away on his adventurous voyage to the frozen seas. A fortnight later he had reached Greenland. The weather was thick and foggy and his sails and ropes were soon frozen hard. He tried to sail to the north but a barrier of ice blocked his way. Sailing along this barrier he reached Spitzburgen. Again and again he tried to find a way through the ice and snow to reach the North Pole. But winter was coming on. He had already explored farther north than any one else and he reluctantly turned homewards. Among other pieces of news he brought home information of the whales he had seen in the seas about Spitzburgen, thus starting the whale fishing which was a great source of wealth to England. A second expedition failed to discover any possible passage to China. Though Hudson reached Nova Zimlia and explored that region the sailors brought back a story of how they had seen a mermaid. She came close to the ship's side they said and looked earnestly at them. Then the sea came and overturned her.  As she went down they saw her tail which was like the tail of a porpoise and speckled like a mackerel. What they saw was probably a seal. But the idea took the fancy of the poets and storytellers. Hudson's third voyage was made in the service of the Dutch East India Company. He left Amsterdam in a ship called The Good Hope with a crew of mixed English and Dutch. Failing to get farther to the north Hudson sailed for the shores of North America. Having touched at Newfoundland and seeing a great fleet of Frenchmen at the bank, he sailed along the coast partly looking for the English colony of Virginia partly seeking some passage to the west. While cruising thus he discovered the Hudson River. Here is his own account. The sun rose and we saw the land all like broken islands. We then came to a great lake of water looking like a drowned land. The mouth of that land had many shoals and the sea breaketh on them. It is a very good land to fall in with and a pleasant land to see. At three o'clock in the afternoon we came to three great rivers where we saw many salmon and mullets. Very great. We found a very good harbor and went in with our ship. Then we took our nets to fish and caught ten great mullets and a ray as great as four men could haul into the ship. The people of the country seemed glad of our coming and brought green tobacco. They dress in deerskins. They have a great store of maize whereof they make good bread. We now turned into the river. It is a mile broad and there is high land on both sides. Sailing, rowing and fishing anchoring by night to keep a careful watch on the treacherous natives Hudson went some hundred miles up the river that was to bear his name. The river on which today stands New York the largest city in America. He brought home news too of an opening of the west which he wished to explore farther. Yet a fourth time we find Hudson leaving home. This time in an English ship called the Discovery which brought him safely to the other side of the Atlantic Ocean. It was for the last time. He had intended to strike the coast of America near the Hudson River but contrary winds and icebergs drove the ship out of her course through an unknown strait into a great inland sea. Both of these waters still bear the explorer's name Hudson straight and Hudson Bay. Day after day the little ship sailed on but no opening could be seen by which they could escape from the ice bound sea which they had unknowingly entered. For three months they tried but in vain. Then winter overtook them. The nights were long and cold and the ground was covered with snow. Food was scarce and the sailors grew dissatisfied. The ice broke up at last and Hudson still hoped to find a passage to the west but now the sailors rose in mutiny. We would rather be hanged at home than starved abroad. They cried drearily. In order to make the food last longer they bound their brave captain and a few sick men into an open boat and then amid that ICC far away from friends and home with no food and no human help they cast Henry Hudson adrift. At the last moment the carpenter sprang into the drifting boat resolved to die with his captain rather than desert him. The little boat and its starving crew were never heard of again. Henry Hudson, one of the bravest and most daring of English seaman, must have found a grave in the icy waters of the very inland sea he had discovered. He had done much. He gave to England the fisheries of Spitzbergen and the fur trade of the Hudson Bay as well as the vast tract of country between that bay and the Pacific Ocean. He gave to Holland the colony at the mouth of the Hudson River which they now call New Amsterdam but which under the English name New York, its name today. One more expedition was made some six years later and then for two hundred years the lonely solitude of those ice bound regions remained unbroken. End of Chapter 27 Chapter 28 Of the Awakening of Europe This is a LibriVox recording All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org The Awakening of Europe by M. B. Singh Chapter 28 Captain John Smith To the west to the west to the land of the free where the mighty Missouri rolls down to the sea where a man is a man if he's willing to toil and the umblest may gather the fruits of the soil. McKay Failure after failure at the early efforts of the English to plant colonies in the west still they would not give up. I shall yet live to see Virginia an English nation.  But it was not till the power of Spain had been destroyed that the English could hope to succeed in America. For an infant colony is like an army at the end of a long line of communications. If the line is cut it must perish. Before England could plant thriving colonies in America she had to gain control of the ocean paths leading across the Atlantic. Now this was done. The defeat of the Spanish Armada had made America colonization possible to England. And so in 1606 another infant colony consisting of 105 persons sailed from Mary England for Virginia the paradise of the world as the poets love to call it. Queen Elizabeth was dead but James I was ready enough for a chance of extending his dominions beyond the seas. The immigrants sailed in three small ships which took four long months to reach the shores of America. They had intended to land on the coast of Virginia but a great storm drove them out of their course Bay called by the natives Chesapeake Bay. Landing on the banks of a river which they called James River after the King they decided on a suitable site for a colony which they called Jamestown. They began to build but it was soon evident that the wrong stamp of colonists had come out. Out of the 105 immigrants there were but 12 laboring men. The others were gentlemen unused to toil unfit for hardships. Again and again the Indians attacked them. Then came the old story food ran short disease followed three or four died daily and the survivors were too weak to bury them. At last half the little colony was dead. Among the colonists was a young man called John Smith he was strong and vigorous and he saw something must be done so he undertook to rule them. He first strengthened the town against attacks from the Indians and to get fresh supplies of food he led parties to explore the neighborhood. He cheered the few survivors and all went well for a time till one day Smith himself was attacked and taken prisoner by the Indians. He was led before the chief and doomed to death. For a time he warded off the evil moment by explaining the mariners compass and telling the ignorant native stories. And when I told them the wonders of the earth and sky and spheres of the sun and moon and stars and how the sun did chase the night round the world continually they all stood amazed with admiration said John Smith when he wrote of all his strange adventures with the Indians. But when his stories came to an end all their fury burst forth again and tying him to a tree they prepared their arrows to shoot him. Another moment he would have been a dead man when the chief stepped forward and made them unbind the prisoner who was to be taken before Palhattin the king of the tribe. From one village to another he was now led in triumph the only white man among all the Indians till at length he reached the king. The old chieftain was sitting before a fire on a bench he was covered with skins of animals whose tails hung around him like tassels. Near him sat a row of women their faces and bare shoulders painted bright red. Smith thought he was well received for the queen brought him water to wash his hands and a bunch of feathers to dry them instead of a towel. But preparations to kill him now went forward. Two large stones were brought in on which the unhappy Englishman needed to lay his head. Two dusky warriors stood with clubs upraised waiting the word to strike when suddenly the king's little daughter of ten years old darted forward laid her young head upon his and thus saved his life. The king was deeply touched by this act of devotion on the part of his child Pocahontas. He at once set his prisoner free and sent him back to Jamestown under escort. He found the colonist reduced to forty now and they were in the act of leaving when Smith arrived and once more saved the situation. Thanks to Pocahontas there was now peace with the Indians and food came in regularly. Moreover they taught the colonist many things how to grow maize and how to till the ground. Immigrants now poured over from England. When you send again I entreat you send me thirty carpenters, husbandmen, gardeners, fishermen, and blacksmiths rather than a thousand such as these Smith wrote home pitifully. He made a rule that everyone must work for six hours a day at least. He who will not work shall not eat, he said. But the axes blistered their tender hands till the sound of oaths drowned the echo of the blows. To put down this swearing Smith decreed that every oath should be punished by a can of cold water being poured down the swearer's sleeve which was the cause of much merriment and fewer oaths. So John Smith succeeded where others had failed. He was the first to show that the true interest of England was not to seek gold in Virginia as the early colonists had done but rather by patient toil and unwarying industry to establish trade and commerce. Nothing, he used to say. Nothing is to be expected from thence but by labor. The sequel to this story is interesting. Pocahontas became a Christian and married one of the colonists John Roth at Jamestown and in 1616 she went to England with her husband. She had been the first native in America to become a Christian and her romantic story drew crowds to see her. LaBelle Savage was taken to the court of King James by John Smith himself who was in England at the time but she had not been in England long before she was taken very ill and she died before she could be put on board ship to return to her native country. End of Chapter 28 Chapter 29 of The Awakening of Europe This is a LibriVox recording all LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer please visit LibriVox.org The Awakening of Europe by M.B. Singh Chapter 29 The Founding of Quebec Rowe Brothers Rowe The stream runs fast The rapids are near and the daylights passed. T. Moore Canadian Boat Song While Henry Hudson was sailing up his newly discovered river and the little colony of Virginia was growing daily stronger under Captain John Smith other countries were busy colonizing on the shores of the new world. If there was a new England and a new Holland over the seas there was also a new France. Some 60 years before this time when the spirit of discovery was abroad and all eyes were turned towards the Golden East a French sailor called Jacques Cartier left his native shores to try and find a new passage to India by way of America. His home was at San Malo a seaport in Brittany the nursery of Hardy Mariners such as himself. In the town hall there today hangs his portrait the keen eyes ever searching something beyond the seas that dashed against the shores of his native town. He left France on the shore of 1534 with three small ships and sailed across the Atlantic Ocean to the storm beaten shores of Labrador already discovered by Cabot. Passing through the narrow straits between that coast and Newfoundland he came to a great expanse of water which he named the Bay of St. Lawrence a name he gave later to the Great River which flows into this mighty bay. Undaunted by the dangers of the unknown he, with two young natives, made his way up the River St. Lawrence till he came to some great cliffs standing high above the surging current below. Little did he think, as he looked at those silent heights, that here should be the site of the busy city of Quebec in Canada now full of heroic memories. At this time only a cluster of rude huts crowned the summit of the rock but this little native village was the capital of the forest state so the Indians told the French sailor. On the banks of the river some days journey hints stood the great native town called Hoshilega. In a little boat with fifty sailors Cartier set out for the mysterious city. Forests with trees thickly hung with grapes lined the shores of the river up which they now rode. The water was alive with wildfowl. The air rang with the song of Blackbird and Thrush. As they neared the city Indians thronged the shore. Wild with delight dancing, singing, crowding round the strangers they threw into the boat presents a fish and maize. As it grew dark fires were lit and the Frenchmen could see the excited native still leaping and dancing by the blaze. When day dawned Cartier followed his guides Hoshilega. Beneath the oaks of the forest the ground was thickly strewn with acorns. Before him rose a great mountain at the foot of which lay the Indian town. Swarms of natives now rushed round the white men touching their beards and filling their faces. We will call the mountain here Monroyal said Jacques Cartier and the name survives in Montreal. Today one of the busiest cities in Canada. It would take too long to tell of Jacques Cartier's return down the river how winter came on him suddenly and hemmed him in until the river itself froze over and the whole earth was deeply wrapped in snow. He returned to France in course of time with his account of the two native villages built on the river St. Lawrence. Cartier had discovered it was for another man to build and colonize. This man was Champlain known as the father of New France and he did more than build. He sailed farther up the river and discovered Lake Ontario and the famous rapids now known as the Falls of Niagara Thunder of Waters. In the year 1603 Champlain found himself at the mouth of the St. Lawrence river anxious to examine the native villages of which Cartier had brought their ports. For some unknown reason all was now silent and deserted. He passed under the bear rock of Quebec and made his way to the once populous village of Hoshilega. But all signs of life were gone since the days of Jacques Cartier. As he rode back the rugged charm of the place seized his fancy. He saw the Broad River, the Good Sea Port, and the idea of building cities on the native sites appealed strongly to him. Five years later he was ready and sailed from France with men, arms, and stores for a colony on the banks of the river St. Lawrence. On a level piece of land between the summit of the cliffs and the river where a cluster of native huts had once stood Champlain chose his site. The woodmen were soon engaged in making a clearing and two weeks a pile of wooden buildings had arisen just where the busy city of Quebec now stands. Very soon winter was upon them. They must stand by their colony, though buildings should be impossible through the frost and snow. With twenty-eight men Champlain prepared to hold the settlement. Sadly he watched the many tinted autumn leaves fall from the forest trees. The sunshine of October faded and November brought a bare waste to the country. The river froze over and soon a heavy blanket of snow buried the earth. The winters of Canada are very long and it was may before anything further could be done. By this time twenty men out of the twenty-eight were dead and the others were all suffering from illness when a welcome cell appeared on the river below with help and food. The Mont Royal of Cartier the Montreal of today For twenty-seven years he toiled ceaselessly to build up the New France beyond the seas and the early history of Canada is centered in the life story of Champlain, the father of New France. Quebec and Montreal were active centres of French trade until they passed into English hands and it is but a few years ago that an Englishman unveiled the issue of Champlain in the very heart of the city he had founded nearly three hundred years ago. End of Chapter 29 Chapter 30 of The Awakening of Europe This is a LibriFox recording All LibriFox recordings are in the public domain For more information or to volunteer please visit LibriFox.org The Awakening of Europe by M. B. Singh Chapter 30 Go and in regions far such heroes brinky forth as though from whom we came and plant our name under that star not known unto our north. Michael Drayton Under James I King of England there was a little sect of Protestants known as Puritans who were sorely persecuted. They were very strict in their ideas of worship. They wished everything to be more Lutheran. They thought it wrong to amuse themselves. It was, in their eyes, a sin to hunt, a sin to put starch into a rough, to play at chess. At last a little band of these Puritans made up their minds to sell over to Holland where they heard was freedom of religion for all men. They hoped in a new land among new people to spread their views and at any rate they left in peace. So across the sea to Holland they went, arriving at Amsterdam in the year 1608. For twelve years they lived at Leiden among the Dutch. But they lived as exiles in a strange land, and Puritanism did not spread as they had hoped. So they turned their eyes across the seas to the new world where colonization was now going on apace. There they might preach their Puritan gospel. There, on the shores of the new world, they might start life afresh. Now the Dutch people had grown very fond of the English Puritans. These English, they said, have lived among us for twelve years, and yet we have not anything to say against one of them. It was the summer of 1620 when the Puritans left Leiden for the new world. A crowd was waiting by the shore to see these pilgrim fathers off. In floods of tears the Dutch made farewell to these people they had learnt to love and they were not able to speak for their sorrow. But the tide, which stays for no man, bore the pilgrim fathers away, and with a fair wind the little ship reached Southampton where two larger ships, the Mayflower and the Speedwell, awaited them. Here there were many delays and it was late in the summer before the ships left the shores of England. The Speedwell soon put back and only the little Mayflower with forty-one immigrants in their families was left to face the perils of the great Atlantic Ocean. It was not long before great Gales set in and the long swell of the Atlantic almost washed over the little ship. Still the Mayflower went forward, struggling gallantly with wind and weather. Once or twice the four pilgrims were tempted to turn and go home, so great was the misery of those on board. They were terribly crowded together, sea-sick and frightened at the high waves which broke over the little ship. But still they went forward. So sixty-four days passed away on a voyage which now takes about a week. When early one November morning the pilgrims first caught sight of America. Together they rejoiced and praised God that had given them once again to see the land. The low sand-hills of Cape Cod seemed a very haven of rest to the poor, storm-beaten pilgrims. Their voyage, indeed, was at an end, but the prospect before them was dreary enough. The wintry wind howled through the battered little ship, and its icy blast went through the thin frames of the old pilgrims, worn by ship and sickness. Sixteen of them were put ashore to find a suitable place to settle. These landed and marched wearily about, through sandy woods, sleeping amid forest, but finding no place for a settlement they returned sadly to the ship. Then they explored the coast. The weather grew very cold. The salt spray of the sea frozen upon their clothes, so that they seemed cased all over as in coats of iron. At last they left Cape Cod and landed in Plymouth Bay, so called from the last place they had left in England. There was plenty of fish here, springs of water, and good harbors, so leaving the women and children on board, they began to lay out streets and houses. But the winter was on them, and they had already born all they could. One by one they sickened. One by one they died, till only half the little band was left. At last the warm spring days followed the bitter winter weather, and the pilgrims under their stout-hearted leader, Miles Standish, took fresh hope. They made friends with the Indians. They tilled the soil and planted seeds from England. Then there came a day, nearly four months after their landing, when the Mayflower must go back to England. She had been riding at anchor in the bay, battered and blackened, and warned by all the storms of the winter. Here is the heroism of the story. Not one of the pilgrims went home in her. Old strong hearts and true, not one went back in the Mayflower. No, not one looked back who set his hand to the plowing. With overflowing eyes they stood on the seashore watching the heavy heart the homeward bound ship as she bounded over the waters, leaving them all alone in the desert. Lost in the sound of the oars was the last farewell of the pilgrims. Months and years of hardships followed, but resolutely they worked and toiled, and slowly things grew better. A ship full of friends followed them from England. In ten years there were three hundred settlers. Every year the numbers grew until forty-two years later it became part of that state now known as Massachusetts. In that Plymouth across the seas a statue now stands marking the spot where the pilgrim fathers landed all these long years ago. Their heroism and perseverance were never forgotten. Let it not grieve you that you have broken the ice after," said their English friends, the honor shall be yours to the world's end. End of Chapter 30 Chapter 31 of The Awakening of Europe This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer please visit LibriVox.org The Awakening of Europe by M. B. Singh Chapter 31 Thirty Years of War It is without example in the world's history. Shiller While the pilgrim fathers were building their new homes on the shores of America the eyes of Europe were turned towards Germany where war had broken out. It was destined to be one of the most terrible wars waged in modern times. This feud between the Protestants and Roman Catholics of Germany had long been simmering. But the great armed struggle finally broke forth on May 23, 1618 and continued till it had drawn nearly every European nation into its conflict. Till it had lighted the fires of battle from the Baltic to the Mediterranean seas. To follow the war through all its many phases would be impossible. But two great names stand out from amid the waste of war names among the most famous of the world's history Wallenstein and Gustavus Sadafus. The war had raged for fourteen years when these two great generals met on the battlefield of Lutzen. They had never met in battle before. They were never to meet again. A greater contrast than these two famous commanders never existed. Wallenstein fighting on the side of the Catholics was cold, gloomy, silent. Ambition was the ruling power of his life. I must command alone or not at all, he had once said. All men stood in awe of him. He was a rich landowner and raised armies at his own expense for the emperor. But God helped the land to which these men come set a frightened German who had just watched Wallenstein's troops marching past. Gustavus Sadafus, king of Sweden, was a very different man. Frank and fearless, he was a staunch Protestant and the very idol of his own people. He now came forward to defend the liberty of his country and the Protestant religion, which both seemed in danger from Germany. Landing on the northern coast of Germany in a storm of thunder and lightning he had been the first to leap ashore and to kneel in thanks to God for his safe passage. A good Christian can never be a bad soldier, he said as he led his men forward. As he passed through German territory men flocked to his standard and they even knelt before him struggling for the honour of touching the sheath of his sword or the hem of his garment. This people would make a king of me, he said sadly. My God knoweth that I have no delight in it. Soon enough shall be revealed my human weakness. Nevertheless his march through the Protestant states of Germany was like a triumphal procession, and tears of relief and joy streamed down the cheeks of bearded men as they welcomed this lion of the north who had come to deliver the oppressed Protestants. Gustavus Adolphus had reached the very heart of the nation. No wonder the emperor came alarmed and turned to Wallenstein. The only leader at all capable of measuring swords with the king of Sweden. Wallenstein answered his emperor's call. As if by magic he collected an enormous army. His military fame drew men of all nations to his banner. From north and south from east and west they came. All swarmed to the old familiar long-loved banner yet one sole man can reign this fiery host by equal rule by equal love and fear blending the many nations whole in one. It was in November 1632 that this mixed army under Wallenstein found itself at Lutzen a small town in Germany. The winter was coming on and Wallenstein was moving to winter quarters hoping his rival would do the same when he heard that Gustavus Adolphus was marching on Lutzen indeed that he was near even now. Through the long dark night the Swedish army had been marching till with the first streaks of dawn when they had intended to surprise Wallenstein they found a thick fog hiding everything from view.  Some of his officers begged Gustavus to clothe himself in steel after the custom of the age. God is my armor he cried throwing it aside so he wore only a plain cloth coat and a buff waistcoat which may be seen at Vienna today. Toward eleven o'clock the sun burst forth and the two armies could almost see the battle-light that glowed fiercely in each other's eyes.  It will now be shown whether I or the king of Sweden is to be master of the world said Wallenstein gloomily as he led his men to the battle. They had not fought long when the fog came down once more and Gustavus dashed unawares into a regiment of the enemy. One shot passed through his horse another shattered his own arm and wounded him in the back he fell to the ground. Who are you? asked one of his foes. I was the king of Sweden gasped the dying king and murmuring to himself my God my God As the mournful tidings ran through the Swedish army it nerve the men to fresh effort they cared not for their lives now the most precious life had passed. With the fury of lions they rushed on the foe and when the sun set that November night Wallenstein defeated at last was in full retreat. Gustavus Adolphus the great champion of Protestantism was dead and the victory as he would have had them do they dragged a great stone to the place where their hero fell and on it they wrote the words our faith is the victory which overcomeeth the world. Wallenstein was assassinated two years after this great battle years later peace was made and there has never been a war of religion in Europe since those days. End of Chapter 31 Chapter 32 of The Awakening of Europe This is a LibriVox recording all LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer please visit LibriVox.org The Awakening of Europe by M. B. Singh Chapter 32 The Dutch at Sea To navigate is necessary to live is not motto of the Hanseatic League The Thirty Years War was over a general peace had been made which included most of the nations of Europe. Holland and Spain made peace too after long years of fighting and the king of Spain admitted that Holland was now free no longer dependent on Spain. The little country reclaimed from the sea had never been so great before she made the most of her opportunity and soon rose to the foremost amid all the nations of Europe. Ever a seafaring people it was now to the sea that they again turned. Commerce was almost as necessary to Holland as the religious liberty for which she had fought so long. Since the days when the beggars of the sea had taken brill and the fire-ships of Antwerp had helped in the defeat of the Spanish Armada her sea power had been rapidly growing. If England had formed an East India Company Holland had followed her quickly with a Dutch East India Company and even before the death of Sir Walter Raleigh her ships had outwitted those of England. The Hollander send into France, Spain, Portugal and Italy he cried to his king with Baltic produce about two thousand merchant ships and we have none. They traffic into every city and poured around about the land with five or six hundred ships and we into three towns in their county with forty ships. So the ships of Holland grew and multiplied. They were better and faster than the English. They had ousted the Portuguese from their strong positions in the East. To carry on better their trade with India and the Spice Islands the Dutch had built themselves a town in the island of Java. It was like a miniature Amsterdam with its busy dockyards its crowded wharfs its shaded canals and its huge warehouses. Indeed it was built upon a swamp and called after their old country Batavia. It soon became the headquarters of the Dutch East India Company and is today the center of the Dutch colonial empire. Here at Batavia they shipped the spices which made their country so wealthy. How eagerly our forefathers loved these eastern spices ginger, pepper, maize, nutmegs these were always in great demand and at feast in Europe a seat near the spice box was the seat of honour. The sale of these spices brought untold wealth into Holland as they would let no one else sell them. So the Dutch people bought nutmegs at four pints per pound in the East to sell them at four pints per pound in Europe. Pepper which cost two and a half pints per pound out there was sold at nearly two shillings elsewhere. Not only did they sell to the East but also to the West. One day a Dutch admiral Pete Hine chased some Spanish ships in the Atlantic. They were bringing home to Spain a rich cargo of silver from Mexico all of which Pete Hine captured. His name but great is his fame for the silver fleet he's taken sang his countrymen as they stored their riches at Amsterdam. All their riches and merchandise the Dutch stored at Amsterdam. There they built warehouses supported on piles driven into the swampy soil in which they stowed the treasures of the world until Amsterdam was the most famous city in Europe. Not only was Holland teaching the world the value of the sea but she was teaching them how to make more of the land. As soon as peace had come to the country the people had begun to reclaim more land for cultivation. They pumped and pumped till they had got a great piece of rich meadowland from what had been a vast shallow lake of water. The cattle grazing on this land became the finest in Europe. The produce of Dutch dairies found a ready market in countries. Then too their market gardens were better than any of their neighbors. They cultivated and exported potatoes and turnips nearly a century before England. They discovered the use of clover and improved grasses for fodder. Keen as they were after-profit to be obtained by trade, diligent in working out the resources of their country, they were also distinguished by their culture and painting. They had their artist in Rembrandt and Van Dijk, their poet in Vondel. Toward the end of the 17th century the Dutch were more famous by land and sea than any other nation in Europe. They were also the first to colonize the Cape of Good Hope on the site now occupied by Cape Town. End of Chapter 32 Chapter 33 of The Awakening of Europe by M. B. Sing Chapter 33 The Great South Land We looked upon a world unknown. Whittier At the beginning of the 17th century the vast ocean South of America, Africa and Asia were more famous by land and sea than any other nation in the world. South of America, Africa and Asia was unknown. There was a blank space on the old charts where Australia is now marked. As men in the days of Columbus had guessed at the great country on the far side of the Atlantic Ocean, so now they suspected some large tract of land to lie south of the equator. The Great South Land they called it vaguely, or many a Spaniard had left the shores of Peru in search of it, but up to this time with little result. Now that the Dutch had entered on their career of discovery in the East, it was natural that they in their turn should search for that unknown land. In 1606 a Dutch ship sailed along part of the coast of Australia, but whenever the men landed they were driven away by wild savages with them. They called the headland that marked the limit of their voyage Cape Kierwer or Ternigan, which name it bears today. So ship after ship sailed to the coast of Australia under the Dutch East India Company. In 1642 an expedition was dispatched from Batavia, the headquarters of the company, under the command of Captain Tasman, on a voyage of discovery to the Great South Land. Let him tell his own story. On August 14, 1642 I sailed from Batavia with two vessels, he says in his log book, and on September 5th anchored at Maurice Land, which has a very fine harbor. The country is mountainous, but the mountains are covered with green trees. The tops of these mountains are so high that they are lost in the clouds. The finest ebony in the world grows here. It is a tall, straight tree covered with a green bark, very thick, under which the wood is as black as pitch and as close as ivory. I left this island on the 8th of October and continued my course to the south. The weather was foggy, with hard gales and a rolling sea from the south. On November 24 I discovered land, which I called after the governor of Batavia, and on December 1 I anchored in a bay. I heard the sound of people on the shore, but I saw nobody. I perceived in the sand the mark of wild beast's feet, resembling those of a tiger. We did nothing more here than set up a post, on which everyone cut his name or his mark, and upon which I hoisted a flag. On December 5 I quitted the island and steered east. On the 13th I discovered a high mountainous country. I coasted along the shore and anchored in a fine bay. We found here abundance of inhabitants. They had very hoarse voices and were very large-made people. They durst not approached the ship nearer than a stone's throw, and we often observed them playing on a kind of trumpet. These people were very small. Their hair was long, combed up, and fixed at the top of their heads with a quill. On the 19th of December these savages began to grow a little bolder, in so much that at last they ventured on board in order to trade with one of our vessels. Fearful lest they should surprise the ship, I sent a small boat with seven men to put the sailors on their guard. We saw the savages who killed three and forced the other four to swim for their lives, from which we called that place the Bay of Murderers. This country appeared to us rich, fertile, and well situated, but as the weather was very foul and we had at this time a very strong west wind, we continued our route to the north. On January 4, 1643 we sailed to a cape, where we found the sea rolling in from the northeast, once we concluded we had at last found a passage which gave us no small joy. There was in this strait an island which we called the Three Kings. Here we would have refreshed ourselves, but as we approached it we perceived on the mountain some thirty persons, men of very large size and each with a club in his hand. They called to us in a rough long voice, but we could not understand what they said. They walked at a very great rate and took prodigious large strides. On January 21st we drew near to the coast of two islands, which we named Amsterdam and Rotterdam. Upon the island of Rotterdam we found plenty of hogs, fowls, and other refreshments. The people were good natured, parting readily with what they showed the use of arms. From here Tasman sailed among many small islands, surrounded with shoals and rocks known as the friendly islands, until he returned to Batavia by the northern coast of New Guinea. Not only had he discovered New Zealand, but he had sailed right round the vast unknown island of Australia without knowing it. Some years later, when William III was king of England, the native sea-captain named Dampier was sent to further examine the shores of that great Southland, then known as New Holland. He found the country inhospitable. The natives the most unpleasant and worst featured of any people he had ever seen. After this the shores of Australia seemed to have been forgotten for nearly a hundred years, when Captain Cook made his famous discoveries and discovered New Zealand. And of Chapter 33 Chapter 34 of The Awakening of Europe This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer please visit LibriVox.org. The Awakening of Europe by M. B. Singh Chapter 34 Funrebix Colony All the past we leave behind we debock upon a newer, mightier world, varied world, fresh and strong the world we seize, world of labour and the march, pioneers, oh pioneers. Walt Whitman The Dutch were now the chief carriers of the world, wagoners of the sea, and their ships were constantly passing round the stormy cave on their way to and from Batavia. No longer did the Portuguese sail to and from the east as they had done of old. They had no Vasco da Gama, no Albuquerque, to lead them again to Golden Goa. Portugal, once the pioneer of navigation, now lay quiet, nervous, crushed, and she has never since risen to play any large part in the world's history. But the Dutch ships had much farther to go than had the Portuguese, and for some time past they had been in the habit of sailing again to Table Bay, to take in fresh water on their long voyage to the east. These old Dutch ships, the quickest in the world then, took about 120 days, instead of twenty, to sail from Holland to the Cape, and they stood sorely in need of refreshment at the end of that time. One day in the year 1649 a ship, the Harlem, one of the finest of Dutch sail upon the beach at Table Bay. Her crew managed to save the cargo, but the ship became a total wreck. There was nothing to do now, but to await the Dutch fleet, which would return shortly from Batavia. The crew, under two men, Janssen and Prout, then explored the country, finally encamping on a site near the center of the present city of Cape Town. They had saved some seeds from the wreck, and soon a plot of ground was under cultivation. Cabbage, pumpkins, turnips, onions, and other vegetables grew splendidly. Natives traded in friendship, bringing cattle and sheep. Game fell to their guns, and fish was plentiful. Added to this there was a stream of pure water and the climate was delightful. With the return fleet they sailed home to Holland to tell their countrymen of their experiment. A station was greatly needed somewhere in that region, and two years later a party of colonists left Holland to make a settlement on the shores of Table Bay. Jan van Rebijk was in command. He had been a great sailor and seen many countries, including the Cape. There were three ships, one of which was called the Gouta Hoot, and on Christmas Day in the year the fleet sailed for South Africa. It was Sunday morning, April 7 that van Rebijk and his colonists looked for the first time upon the side of their future home. A suitable spot for the new fort was soon chosen, and building began at once. The new fort, called Good Hope, was in the form of a square with very thick walls of earth round which was a moat. A square tower rose to some height from which the defenders could fire down upon any enemy who might attempt to scramble up the banks of earth. They built a hospital where sick men from the ships could be left to recover and cattle-crawl to enclose the cattle bought from the natives. Such was the original fort, Good Hope, built by the Dutch in 1652 as a halfway house between the mother country and the far east. Like all the other early colonists van Rebijk and his settlers were doomed to suffer. The cold, stormy winter set in about May. The heavy rain poured through their tents bringing sickness in its train and soon out of the original 116 men. Only sixty were fit for work. They could get no fresh meat save hippopotamus. They were as solitary as the Pilgrim Fathers had been a hundred years before on the shores of North America. But with spring dawned a new life. The grass began to grow. Hondrick Boom, the gardener, sowed his seeds and soon there were plenty of fresh vegetables, green grass for the cattle and sheep, and fresh life for the homesick colonists in news from Holland brought by passing ships. One day it was January 18th, 1853. A ship came sailing hastily into Table Bay bringing the news that war had been declared between Holland and England. One can see the eager colonists crowding round the Dutch sea captain as he told them all the news for which they thirsted. They knew there was no king in England at this time but that the country was in the hands of a great man called Oliver Cromwell. It was this Cromwell who had now made the famous navigation act which was aimed against Holland. It decreed that English ships alone might bring goods into England. Thus the trade of England would be increased but at the expense of Holland already supreme in the world of trade and commerce. So the long rivalry of the two sea-going nations had ended in a declaration of war. The little colony at the Cape must strengthen its garrison without delay and the Dutch ship must sail on quickly to Batavia to warn the Dutch there of possible danger. Meanwhile let us see what was really happening in England. End of Chapter 34 Chapter 35 of The Awakening of Europe This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer please visit LibriVox.org The Awakening of Europe by M.B. Singh Chapter 35 In the Days of Oliver Cromwell Cromwell, our chief of men who threw a cloud guided by faith and matchless fortitude, to peace and truth thy glorious way hest plowed. Milton The famous navigation act which brought on the war between England and Holland was one of the last acts in the life of the great Englishman Oliver Cromwell. Before telling the stories of the fine old sea admirals who fought in that war for the power of the seas let us see what this man Cromwell had already done for his country. Oliver Cromwell was a very giant among men the wonder of Europe and the glory of his age. Like the Pilgrim Fathers he was a Puritan steeped in the language of his Bible, intolerant of Roman Catholics. He had a mighty brain and a great soul but he was no perfect hero no spotless saint. He was just a strong man who did what he thought best for his country in a difficult age. The young Oliver was four years old when Queen Elizabeth died and James became King of England.  Another story says that the very year of James's session his little son, Prince Charles was worsted at fisticuffs while playing with Oliver Cromwell who was but a year older than himself. But as the little prince did not speak till he was five and crawled on his hands and knees till he was seven this is not likely. It was a sorry day for England when this same young prince became King on the death of his father in 1625 and the long quarrels were begun which ended only with his execution. Now England was governed by a King and Parliament. This latter consisted of a number of men from all parts of the country who decided on laws and taxes for the good of the land. In this Parliament sat young Oliver Cromwell. No one thought much of him. In and out in a homespun suit took little part publicly and seemed glad enough to return to his farm, his wife and children near Ely in the eastern counties. It was not till Charles had plunged his country into civil war by reason of his unjust taxation that Cromwell rose to play his great part. There was no standing army in England at this time. Troops were raised by private people and Oliver Cromwell found himself in command of a troop of horse. Together with his Parliamentary friends he was present at the first battle against the King. The King, helped by his fiery nephew Prince Rupert fresh over from the Thirty Years' War was victorious. Cromwell knew why. Your troops, he said to one of his friends, are old decayed serving men or gentlemen's sons. Do you think that the spirits of such base and mean fellows will ever be able to encounter gentlemen that have honour and courage and resolution in them? The final result of the whole war lay in these words. Cromwell now chose men for the army who were sternly puritan who had their hearts in the cause who had some conscience in what they did. Every soldier henceforth would undergo a severe training. Cromwell himself, having learned from a Dutchman the art of war, drilled them in until he had a cavalry regiment under his orders so fiery with sill, so well restrained, that nobody of horse could compare with it. No longer was there any thought of flight, none of retreat. Deeds of eternal fame were done endless and infinite. From that day forward they were never beaten. So Cromwell and his iron sides as the soldiers were called advanced to victory Redcoats were warned for the first time in this new model army as it was called. The king was finally beaten and brought to trial in London. Then came the signing of the death warrant by Cromwell and fifty-seven others and preparations for the execution. The dignity which had failed the king in his life came to him in these last days. He was allowed to say good-bye to his young children, a scene among the most pathetic in history. Having taken them on his knee and kissed them again and yet again, he ordered them to be taken away. When they reached the door they flew back to his arms sobbing aloud until the wretched King Charles tore himself away only to fall on his knees in prayer. Firmly he mounted the scaffold. As his head was lifted up to the side of his subjects a groan of pity and horror burst from the crowd. The news was received throughout Europe in silent horror. But the death of the king was a great landmark in history. The old rule was behind and new rule was before. A new life had arisen for England which would affect the history of Europe. Oliver Cromwell was now a king in all but name. Of his campaigns in Ireland and Scotland there is no time to tell. At the age of forty-three he had gird on his sword. At the age of fifty-two he laid it down.  They said to him when he returned from the wars. More would come to see me hanged. He had answered with a careless smile knowing how unpopular he was. The country had been torn by war for ten years. Cromwell now turned his attention to a settlement of affairs. And first and foremost came the act giving to the English increased power at sea with more far-reaching results than even Oliver Cromwell could foresee. End of Chapter 35 Chapter 36 The Awakening of Europe This is the LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org The Awakening of Europe by M. B. Singh Chapter 36 Two Famous Admirals And sweep through the deep while the stormy winds do blow while the battle rages long and loud and the stormy winds do blow. Campbell Cromwell had conquered all upon the land. He now turned to the sea and tried to improve the trade of England by stopping the Dutch ships from bringing so much goods to English shores. No longer now could Dutch ships carry corn from Russia to England. No longer could they fish so freely for herrings off the English coast to take to Germany and other countries. No longer could they be the chief carriers of Europe wagoners of the sea. The ships of England were to take their own share of the world's sea traffic. From olden days England had claimed her right over the English Channel. It is the custom of the English to command at sea, the king used to say with pride. Indeed, up to this time the flags of all other countries had been lowered before the flag of England while sailing through the narrow English Channel. One day it was in the year 1651 a Dutch fleet passed through the channel without lowering the flag in salute to an English ship which it passed. The English admiral asked the reason of this insult and as the Dutch captain refused to explain he captured the flagship. Relations now became very strange between the two countries. War was not yet declared when suddenly one day the Dutch admiral Trump sailed into the English Channel and anchored off the south coast with forty ships. Now this admiral Trump was a great man. He had been born at Brill, the beggars' town and had gone to sea as a very little boy. At the age of eleven he had seen his father murdered on board his ship by English sea-roppers. Later in life the brave sailor Pete Hine who had taken the silver fleet was shot at his side. So Martin Trump had seen a good deal of life and service and he was one of Holland's greatest admirals. But Trump had his equal in the English admiral Blake. Both men had been born in the same year but while Trump had gone to sea as a very small boy Blake had not begun his seafaring career till he was fifty. In those days it was not thought necessary that an admiral or a captain should be a sailor. One man was in command of the soldiers on board the ship another in command of the sailors and the ship herself. There was no uniform such a seamen half today. Each man dressed as he liked. Now as Blake had fought well on land he was put in command of a fleet of ships. He was cruising about the English Channel one summer afternoon in sixteen fifty-two. One story says that he was sitting in his cabin with his officers their swords lying on the table before them when the windows of the ship were suddenly shattered. It is very ill-bred of Trump to break my windows said Blake knowing that the Dutch admiral was not far off. Then Crash came the Dutch flagship into the English one. Guns boomed over the quiet sea. For five long hours the fleets fought fiercely under Trump and Blake and the sun had long since set when disabled and shattered the Dutch ship sailed away for Holland and Blake made his way to Dover to make known to Cromwell what had happened. War now blazed out between the two countries. War for the command of the sea. It was just a year after their first fight when Blake and Trump met again. The Dutch admiral with forty ships and ten fire-ships was sailing about midway between the English and the Dutch coast when he met Blake. But Blake, with forty ships was totally unprepared to encounter such a superior force as now lay before him on the sea. He hastily called his officers together and they resolved to fight though at such a disadvantage. But Trump and his splendid fleet was too strong for them. The Dutch gained the victory and in triumph Trump tied a broom to his mast head and sailed down the channel boasting that he would sweep the sea of every English ship. A few months later a more equal fight took place and this time Blake was triumphant. The war had resolved itself into a duel between these two famous admirals. Now one was victorious now the other. In a later fight Blake was severely wounded and the sea-king, as the English called him was unable to fight any longer. Soon after this Martin Trump, the father of sailors, was killed. I am done for. Maintain the battle, my children. He gasped as he fell mortally wounded on the deck of his ship. When the news of the admiral's death spread through the fleets as if by common consent all stopped firing. A great man had died and the fleets each sailed away in silence. Both countries grew tired of the conflict and were glad enough to make peace in the year 1654. True, the Dutch had to consent to the old tribute to the English flag but they were still supreme on the seas and though England was learning much from them though she was growing stronger every day yet at this time there was no power in Europe which could compete with Holland on the high seas. End of chapter 36