
Roger Pocock's work presents Sir Walter Raleigh as the defining figure of the sixteenth century, embodying both its deepest shames and its highest glories. A half-brother of Gilbert and thirteen years his junior, Raleigh was also a kinsman of Drake, Hawkins, and Grenville, all men of Devon. Raleigh played many brilliant public roles throughout his life. He was a dashing young gallant who butchered Irish prisoners of war, a leader in the second sack of Cadiz, and a knight errant in the Azores who alone stormed the breached walls of a fort. He pursued the dream king El Dorado and the mythical golden city of Manoa on a wild quest up the Orinoco. He performed the part of Queen Elizabeth's adoring lover with theatrical extravagance, letting it be known that his jeweled shoes had cost six thousand pieces of gold. He wrote some of the noblest prose in the English language as well as most exquisite verse, invented a method of distilling fresh water from the sea, and paid for the expeditions that founded Virginia. In private, however, Raleigh fell short of the heights of manliness he could see but dared not climb, and was by turns a sneak, a toady, and a whining hypocrite. His public life remains one of England's greatest memories, and his death was of almost superhuman grandeur. When James the Cur took the throne of great Elizabeth, his courtiers had Raleigh tried and condemned to death on a charge of treason, specifically of taking Spanish bribes, which was among the few failings absent from Raleigh's long list of peccadillos. James, acting as lick-spittle and flunkey-in-chief to the king of Spain, kept Raleigh waiting fifteen years in the Tower of London for his execution. Raleigh eventually appealed to the avarice of the court, reviving talk of Manoa and El Dorado, and offered to fetch gold from the Orinoco. He was granted leave to sail once more for the Indies as a prisoner on parole. The myth of El Dorado is said to be based on a curious mirage of a city that in certain weather may still be seen across Lake Maracaibo. Raleigh and his men found nothing but mosquitoes, fever, and hostile Spaniards. The voyage was a failure, and Raleigh came home, true to his honor, to face execution. On the scaffold he told the assembled company that he had a long journey to take and must bid them farewell. The headsman knelt to receive his pardon. Raleigh tested the edge of the ax with his finger, then lifted and kissed the blade, saying with a smile that it was a sharp and fair medicine to cure him of all his diseases. When the executioner lost his nerve, Raleigh demanded of him what he feared and commanded him to strike. The work closes with the celebrated passage from Raleigh's own writing on the power of Death, whom he addresses as eloquent, just, and mighty, the one force that could persuade where none could advise, that dared what none had dared, and that cast out of the world those whom all the world had flattered, drawing together all the far-stretched greatness, pride, cruelty, and ambition of man and covering it over with the two narrow words Hic jacet.
By Roger Pocock · First published 1899 · Genre: Biography, Historical Fiction, Adventure · 649 words
A. D. 1603
To its nether depths of shame and topmost heights of glory, the sixteenth century is summed up in Sir Walter Raleigh. He was Gilbert's young half-brother, thirteen years his junior, and a kinsman of Drake, Hawkins and Grenville, all men of Devon.
biography · historical figure · Elizabethan era · English history · exploration · colonization · naval history · Renaissance · court politics · adventure · 16th century · British Empire
Sir Walter Raleigh is listed on Textopian as an article by Roger Pocock, dated 1899 CE.
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