possibly some of it was used for repairing the British squadron which
Hawkins had pronounced as being composed of the finest ships in the
world for him to hand over to Philip, even though they had been
neglected owing to the Queen's meanness. The plausible way in which
the great seaman put this proposition caught the imagination of the
negotiators. They were captivated by him. He had caused them to
believe that he was a genuine seceder from heresy and from allegiance
to the Queen of England, and was anxious to avow his penitence for the
great sins he had committed against God and the only true faith, and
to make atonement for them in befitting humility. All he asked for was
forgiveness, and in the fullness of magnanimity they were possibly
moved to ask if, in addition to forgiveness, a Spanish peerage, and
£40,000, he would like to commemorate the occasion of his conversion
by a further token of His Spanish Majesty's favour. It is easy to
picture the apparent indifference with which he suggested that he did
not ask for favours, but if he were to ask for anything, it would be
the release from the Inquisition galleys of a few poor sailor
prisoners. The apparently modest request was granted. Hawkins had
risked his life to accomplish this, and now he writes a letter to
Cecil beginning "My very good Lord." I do not give the whole of the
letter. Suffice it to say that he confirms the success of the plot so
far as he is concerned, and in a last paragraph he says, "I have sent
your Lordship the copy of my pardon from the King of Spain, in the
order and manner I have it, with my great titles and honours from the
King, from which God deliver me."

The process by which Hawkins succeeded in obtaining the object he had
in view was the conception of no ordinary man. We talk and write of
his wonderful accomplishments on sea and land, as a skilful, brave
sailor, but he was more than that. He was, in many respects, a genius,