The enterprise of Sir Humphrey Gilbert was worthy of a heroic and
patriotic nobleman. It was, nevertheless, doomed to end in disaster and
death. In prosecuting further explorations one of Sir Humphrey's vessels
was wrecked and the whole crew perished. The little fleet had struggled
with contrary winds for many days. Eventually the Delight, the largest
vessel, drifted into the breakers on a lee shore and struck upon a rock.
She went rapidly to pieces. Seventeen of the crew got into the longboat,
and, after seven days, fifteen of them reached port. But the captain,
Morris Browne, refused to leave the ship. "Mounting upon the highest
deck," says the ancient chronicler, "he attained imminent death, so
inevitable." The other vessels stood out to sea and saved themselves. As
winter was approaching and provisions getting low, Sir Humphrey deemed
it wise to steer for England. He had planted his flag on board the
Squirrel, a little cockle-shell of ten tons, and though earnestly
entreated to go on board the larger vessel, the Golden Hind, he refused
to abandon his brave comrades. A great storm overtook them near the
Azores. The Golden Hind kept as near the Squirrel as possible; and when
in the midst of the tempest the crew saw the gallant knight sitting
calmly on deck with a book before him, they heard him cry to his
companions, "Cheer up, lads, we are as near heaven at sea as on land!"
When the curtain of night shrouded the little bark, she and her gallant
crew disappeared beneath the dark billows of the Atlantic.
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