their country, and themselves in fighting Catholics. Fleets of these
dangerous vessels swept the Channel, lying in wait at Scilly, or even at
the Azores--disowned in public by their own Governments while secretly
countenanced, making war on their own account on what they called the
enemies of God. In such a business, of course, there were many mere
pirates engaged who cared neither for God nor man. But it was the
Protestants who were specially impelled into it by the cruelties of the
Inquisition. The Holy Office began the work with the _autos da fé_. The
privateers robbed, burnt, and scuttled Catholic ships in retaliation.
One fierce deed produced another, till right and wrong were obscured in
the passion of religious hatred. Vivid pictures of these wild doings
survive in the English and Spanish State Papers. Ireland was the rovers'
favourite haunt. In the universal anarchy there, a little more or a
little less did not signify. Notorious pirate captains were to be met in
Cork or Kinsale, collecting stores, casting cannon, or selling their
prizes--men of all sorts, from fanatical saints to undisguised ruffians.
Here is one incident out of many to show the heights to which temper had
risen.

'Long peace,' says someone, addressing the Privy Council early in
Elizabeth's time, 'becomes by force of the Spanish Inquisition more
hurtful than open war. It is the secret, determined policy of Spain to
destroy the English fleet, pilots, masters and sailors, by means of the
Inquisition. The Spanish King pretends he dares not offend the Holy
House, while we in England say we may not proclaim war against Spain in
revenge of a few. Not long since the Spanish Inquisition executed sixty
persons of St. Malo, notwithstanding entreaty to the King of Spain to
spare them. Whereupon the Frenchmen armed their pinnaces, lay for the
Spaniards, took a hundred and beheaded them, sending the Spanish ships
to the shore with their heads, leaving in each ship but one man to