Journal of History and Classics: Doubting Thomas: Supporting Data: Trial

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II. Thomas Doughtie: the Martyr – The Ugly Trial and Beautiful Death of Thomas Doughtie

By the time they reached San Julian – which was certainly chosen carefully for what Drake the Younger would call the “paire of parallels to be added to Plutarchs” (67), being the site where Magellan quelled a quite definite mutiny, complete with killings and ships being taken over by armed men - Francis Drake had gathered enough “evidence” to conduct his legal lynching of Thomas Doughtie. On June 30th of 1578, Drake convened a court, making it clear that if Doughtie were found guilty he would deserve death. Despite Doughtie’s pleas that he be held for a proper trial in England, Drake stated his intent to impanel a jury. Doughtie then challenged Drake’s authority, demanding to see his commission from the queen.

The question of the extent of the authority granted to Drake by the queen is problematic. It is widely assumed that the queen made numerous secret agreements with privateers; one recent book is based entirely upon this premise (Ronald). It would certainly make sense that Elizabeth would wish plausible deniability if Drake’s fleet was defeated in the course of what was tacitly acknowledged to be an expedition of piracy. In a 1585 letter to Leicester, Sherley quotes her as saying of Drake, “If need be the gentleman careth not if I should disavow him,” (qtd in Sugden 98), which certainly seems optimistic on her part given the proceedings at San Julian. Drake claims to have had an actual written commission during Doughtie’s trial, but conveniently “forgets” to bring it to the sentencing, and, in any case, refuses to show it before the verdict is passed. To argue that he later shows this supposed commission to the Spaniard Don Francesco de Zárate is disingenuous – de Zárate was unlikely to be able to read English (Kelsey 452). However, the authority granted to Drake verbally is different, and Doughtie himself gives contradictory information. When he first takes command of the Pelican, Doughtie’s speech claims that Drake has the authority to execute mutineers (qtd. in Corbett 234-235). But in a later conversation with Sarocold, when the master of the Swan suggests that those who caused trouble in the fleet ought to be hanged, Doughtie is quick to inject that Drake’s authority does not extend that far: “I knowe hs atorytye so well as he him self dothe,” (“Documents” 167), a comment which infuriates Sarocold. It is impossible to determine which statement is true since in both cases, Doughtie would have motivation to lie – on the first occasion to keep restless men under control, and on the second, under the realization that Sarocold’s statement was a not-so-veiled threat. Either way, if the two pieces of testimony are to be trusted, it is a certainty that on at least one occasion Doughtie did lie, and so, upon careful examination of our own hearts and minds, we may triumphantly convict him of being human.

But the extent of Drake’s authority really doesn’t matter. Even if he had the authority to execute a mutineer, the evidence was so slim and the trial conducted in such an unorthodox fashion that Vicarye was outraged. Drake’s response is famous: “I have not to do with yow crafty lawyers, neythar care I for the lawe, but I know what I wyll do” (Cooke 204). Ironically, it is unlikely that any of the men with legal training are actually lawyers; Vicarye, who entered the Inner Temple in 1568, was never called to the bar. Although Drake did what he could to give some semblance of jurisprudence to the proceedings, when the judge began the trial by having Doughtie bound and then delivering a scathing invective against him, it must have been clear to all that impartial justice would not be delivered.

Before Drake proceeded with the real matter of the trial, he accused Doughtie of the ridiculous charge of poisoning the Earl of Essex. Obviously, there was absolutely no way this charge could be proved on the beach of San Julian; a regular court would have struck the remark from the records as prejudicial. Coote argues that everything Drake says or does during the course of the trial is a deliberately orchestrated gesture in a theatre of cruelty intended, after the fashion of the time, to set a morally edifying example rather than get at anything approaching truth (127). Nevertheless, Drake’s statements must have at least the veneer of possibility. As mentioned earlier, when he disavowed Doughtie’s claim to have introduced him to Essex, Drake asserts that he only saw Doughtie in the presence of Devereux once, and that much later than his period of employment. Drake finds it necessary to append this one occurrence to his statement in order to provide an opportunity for Doughtie to have committed his supposed misdeed. But, in a case of overkill, the testimony of Ned Bright also includes the information that John Doughtie had bragged “…he could poyson a man wt a dyamond, that he should be twelve moneths affter or he should dye,” (“Documents” 178). Implied in his statement is that even though the Doughties were nowhere near Ireland when the Earl of Essex died, the possibility of their direct culpability should not necessarily be discounted – is it any wonder that the jury disallowed the testimony of Bright?

Drake was probably relying on the common knowledge of John Doughtie’s imprisonment, and the fact that it was rumored to have something to do with the death of Essex. It is questionable how much Drake knew about this, considering the sequel. For Drake was to be dogged by a rumor exemplified in the slanderous screed “Leicester’s Commonwealth,” that he, in the pay of Robert Dudley, Earl of Leicester, was ordered to kill Doughtie to in order to silence him. It is of note that the first published text to name the gentleman Drake executed on the circumnavigation, William Camden’s Annals, mistakenly says that John Doughtie was killed, and adds “Yet wanted there not some which, thinking themselves to bee men of a deeper reach, gave out that Drake has a charge from Leicester that hee should make away Dougbhtey by any colour whatsoever, for that hee had reported abroad that the Earle of Essex was made away by the cunning practises of Leicester,” (1580 section 20). It is hardly likely that this rumor was true: imagining the impulsive Drake as a secretly hired assassin is difficult even if an autopsy had not determined that Essex had died of natural causes. However, we should not forget that given the will’s instruction to Richard Broughton, it does seem likely that Doughtie did have some damaging information on Leicester, but more likely about his relationship with Lettice Devereaux.

Drake impanels a jury, in Camden’s account a proper English jury of twelve, but according to Cooke, somewhat over 40 of the most influential men on the voyage. He appoints John Wynter foreman, realizing that Wynter, as Doughtie’s friend, would appear to be well-disposed towards Doughtie, making any conviction seem that much more damaging. In all likelihood, Drake also realized that more spine could be found in a dead jellyfish washed up upon the beach than in the perpetually intimidated Wynter. Indeed, on a later occasion, Wynter will testify, “Yf I should have contraryed him or gone about to practice to withstand him in anie parte of this his doings, he would have punished me by deathe,” (Kelsey 110).

The trial consisted of Captain John Thomas reading aloud the accusations to the men who made them, who apparently affirmed they were correct. Most of the serious charges have already been discussed, save for a few to be treated at length below. To summarize the rest, Doughtie is accused of 4 counts of investing in the voyage, 3 counts of advancing Drake’s cause, 3 counts of defending his own innocence, 2 counts of having introduced Drake to the Earl of Essex, 2 counts of threatening action against his tormentors when the fleet returns to England, 2 counts of offering to lend money, 2 counts of saying that Drake should be ashamed of himself, and 1 count of being offered a position as secretary by Lord Burghley. This summary, of course, does not convey the tone of the accusations – the supposed statements by Doughtie are full of arrogance, spleen and pathos. However, the statements are all hearsay, and hearsay collected by a man who was bent on his opponent’s destruction. Because of this, it is doubtful that we can read anything significant into the tone of the wording anyway.

Considering only the subject matter of the accusations, the quality of evidence advanced against Doughtie is so scanty that Vaux believes the documents in question to be fragmentary notes and not the real accusations (xiv). “They are, one and all, the kind of skimble-scamble stuff, vague topics of prejudice or hear-say reports of things said, which ignorant, confused men are likely to mistake for evidence…They may be accurate reports of things said, and therefore may have been signed quite properly by Doughty’s friends; and yet they do not supply among them a scintilla of evidence that he meant to return, or to create a mutiny, or to do any harm to Drake, or that he would have found the least support in the squadron if he had tried to do any of those things” ( Hannay 802). It is hardly any wonder that, as according to Cooke, Doughtie doesn’t bother to deny these statements. Would anyone refute a statement of being “...as honest as any in the companye, or as my lord Burlaye” (173), especially if one had legal training and knew what constituted proper evidence? Doughtie’s statement to Ned Bright to “...chardge me with nothyng but trewthe and spare me not,” reveals both his confidence that he has done nothing illegal, and his naïve belief that Bright is honest and the trial will be fair. Most of the charges are attested to by a handful of the same people: John Sarocold, John Chester, Emanuell Wattkyns, Gregory Cary and, surprisingly considering the sequel, Francis Fletcher. Three charges were attested to by 29 people – most likely these were all things said by Doughtie on the same occasion in a public fit of anger, to wit that he was “not to be charged with the least paringe of a nayle, and that the Captayne knew it well; but that he dissembled to please a sort of cogginge and lyinge knaves wch are about him,” and that he would revenge himself on those who spoke against him upon their return to England (Cooke 169-170). It is significant that Leonard Vicarye’s name is upon the list of witnesses to this outburst; it is also of note that these charges are the only ones to which John Brewer affixes his name.

However, there are still a few more charges to consider of a more substantial nature, most especially including the testimony of Bright and Drake himself. A fascinating series of accusations concern mysterious statements by Doughtie that he knew certain secrets of Drake’s which he would “nevar vttar, allthough he should vse me very hardlye; and yet, sayd he, the vtteringe of them would tuche him muche,” (“Documents” 167). It is obvious that Drake would consider this a threat and a means to undermine him; nevertheless, lacking specifics, the remarks can hardly be considered slander. Indeed, it is equally probable that Doughtie was bluffing or that he did know certain secrets of Drake’s – what these secrets might have been can only be speculated as Doughtie kept his word and took them to his grave. Also, Drake directly testifies concerning an inquiry made by Doughtie about the nature of the chain of command if anything should happen to Drake. It seems likely that Doughtie was trying either to clarify or assert his position by this remark. It also seems obvious that Drake read it, or hopes his audience will read it, or both, as a veiled threat.

The Ned Bright testimony also contains vaguely sinister statements, such as a confidence in Drake’s garden that Doughtie would choose a dozen men or so to “carry the bell away.” Besides the absurdity of the statement - a dozen men seem a rather small number to arrange a mutiny in a company of around 150 – there is the question of why Ned Bright would wait to reveal this important information, a question which is asked by the jury. Doughtie also challenges the veracity of this testimony, saying that he would never have been on such familiar terms with such a man as Ned Bright. Bright’s testimony certainly reeks of egotism – he is at pains to mention how much Doughtie supposedly regards him. And at the end of a long, rambling tale which demonstrates nothing more than is already known, Bright drops several bombshells of such magnitude as to seem absurd in comparison – that Doughtie has claimed the high council and the queen could be corrupted, and that John Doughtie confided (again, to Bright, seemingly oblivious to the man’s ill-will towards his brother) his skills as a poisoner,and that Thomas Doughtie could raise the devil and make him appear in the form of a lion, or a bear, or a man in harness. These almost comical accusations are necessary, of course, if Drake is to get the conviction he really wants – treason, for which death is the clear penalty. “How lyke yow thes gere, syrra?” Bright taunts at the end of his statement (Cooke 203).

These revelations would have a profoundly negative effect upon the mariners; the more educated gentlemen of the jury were, however, unimpressed, eventually disallowing Bright’s testimony as coming from an untrustworthy source. But the damage was done in quite another manner. Sensing the popular hostility against him, Doughtie is finally pushed to defend himself. Perhaps intending to prove that he is no traitor at all, he reveals that he told the true purpose of the voyage to Lord Burghley. It hardly seems likely that if he were a spy and master schemer, he would so stupidly incriminate himself or betray the object of his true loyalties. But Drake seizes upon this with such fervor, claiming that the queen specifically forbade disclosure of the voyage to Burghley, that the company is entirely convinced.

There is a difficulty inherent in this story. If Drake is telling the truth when he speaks of being called into a secret meeting with the queen, a meeting where he discloses a plan of his own design to annoy the King of Spain, then obviously Doughtie was not present at that meeting. It is just possible that Drake withheld the queen’s confidences from Doughtie; in fact, if, as Drake claims, Doughtie had no authority at all and no responsibility for Drake's advancement, why bother to tell him? If Doughtie was ignorant of the queen’s admonition to Drake, both Doughtie’s imprudent revelation and Drake’s panicked outrage at Doughtie’s disclosure are logical reactions. This attitude might be inferred from the snippet of conversation that Cooke gives us. After the revelation is made that Burghley knows the plot of the voyage, Drake’s immediate response is to deny it – “No, he hath not.” His first reaction is not to accuse Doughtie of the misdeed, perhaps because he is more afraid that he himself will be accused of letting slip something the queen expressly forbade him to do. But Doughtie does not let the point go, insisting that Burghley does know, and it is only when Drake asks him how Burghley got the information that he reveals that he himself told the lord. If Doughtie was Burghley’s agent or knew that telling Burghley was forbidden, he had ample opportunity to allow the matter to drop, but he pushes the issue as though it will justify, not condemn him.

And why should it condemn him? This matter is not only left unexplored at the trial, but has scarce received critical attention in the histories. Lord Burghley was a peer of the realm, a member of the Privy Council, and still in the favor of the queen, who often did listen to his conservative advice counseling caution in foreign affairs. It is hardly as if Doughtie had spoken to Mendoza, the Spanish ambassador, revealing the route of the voyage after the queen confiscated Drake’s records of his exploration – as John Brewer did (Cummins 125). The revelation need not be the sinister occurrence it is made out to be. Burghley was a man who made a career out of gathering information – Doughtie was a man, as we have seen, who amongst his many gifts did not count discretion. Burghley may have plumbed him for knowledge of this adventure – with Hatton, Leicester and Walsingham as supporters, is it likely that the old intelligencer would be completely in the dark that so many of his fellows were up to something? As Williamson says, “He had an efficient staff of secret agents and informers, and a project that was being elaborated by his fellow-ministers and the Navy officials would almost certainly have come to his ears,” (171). If Burghley did offer Doughtie a position as secretary, surely Doughtie felt a need to give a reason for refusing the post – and going on a spice expedition to Alexandria is hardly a plausible one.

At this point in the trial, sensing that he has made a fatal misstep, Doughtie tries to plea bargain, offering to admit to the charges if he is guaranteed his life. It is clear that Drake knew both that he had the advantage, and that if Doughtie were allowed to live, the charges would almost certainly be overturned in England, the document signed under duress considered worthless. Drake presses for the vote; Vicarye objects, first on legal grounds and then on the grounds that the jury is not comfortable with deciding on a death sentence. If Cooke’s account is correct, Drake prevaricates, saying the jury has only to decide whether Doughtie is guilty. Vicarye is no fool: “Then there is, I trust, no matter of death,” he presses. To this, Drake responds with a boldfaced lie: “No, no Mastar Vicarye,” (Cooke 204).

Cooke describes Vicarye as a “very and assured frend vnto Mastar Thomas Dowghtie;” this agrees with Doughtie’s own description in the codicil to his will, “I give and bequeathe to my affirmed good friende Leonard Vicarie of the Inner Temple of London gentleman in consideration of his faithfull and true friendshipp and great travaile by him sustained in this voyag. the some of fortie poundes.” With friends like Vicarye and John Wynter on the jury, why did it vote against Doughtie “without any dowbte or stop made” excepting to disallow Bright’s evidence? Since the codicil was written in the day following the trial, Doughtie clearly did not hold the verdict, or even the death sentence against his friend. Cooke is quick to remark that certain members of the jury felt terrified of Drake, fearing that they would be next after Doughtie. As will be seen, these fears were not entirely unfounded.

But there is another reason why Doughtie’s friends would convict so immediately. Rejecting Bright’s testimony, they also reject the greater charge of treason, and convict Doughtie of the lesser charge of mutiny. Drake has already assured them, falsely, that the death penalty is not in question. Seeing that Drake impaneled the jury, there are most certainly enemies of Doughtie upon it as well as his friends, men who would vote against him no matter the circumstances. Following a parody of English law, if the jury locks, sooner or later there will be a mistrial, and Drake will have the chance to form yet another jury, a second jury perhaps not so well disposed towards Doughtie, one more likely to convict on the truly damning charge. The irony of a mutiny conviction is, of course, that which Samuel Johnson laments: “What designs he could have formed, with any hope of success, or to what actions, worthy of death, he could have proceeded without accomplices, for none are mentioned, is equally difficult to imagine” (118).

The jury miscalculates badly, of course, and Drake, through a scathing combination of rhetoric and intimidation, gets his death sentence. Significantly, the sentence is decided upon by everyone in the company except the two Doughties; Drake, previously desiring the sense of propriety a jury trial would give him, takes no chances with the sentence, manipulating the common sailors to exert pressure of numbers upon the gentlemen. The sailors are overawed with documents Drake produces from various noblemen, all very impressive but completely non sequitur. If the testimony of the Portuguese navigator Nuno de Silva is to be accepted, Drake’s performance is a drama intended to impress: “Placing himself in a more elevated position than the others, he took out some papers, kissed them, put them on his head, and read them in a loud voice.” (qtd. in Kelsey 452 n58). Cummins notes that Drake presents the men with a “spurious” either-or choice: if Doughty is executed the success of the voyage and enrichment of the men is assured, but if they do not, the fleet will have to slink home in disgrace to England (83). It is a measure of the force of Drake’s personality that no one, not even Vicarye, points out the complete lack of logic in this formulation.

The jury may have rejected the testimony of Ned Bright, but all present have nevertheless heard it; convicted of mutiny by some of his closest friends, how difficult is it to imagine that many have convicted him in their minds of treason and witchcraft also? Ridiculous as it might seem to the modern mind, the charge of witchcraft may have been the most damning against Doughtie when he was sentenced. Witch trials at sea have a tendency to become lynchings; in three documented cases between 1654-58 (Katherine Grady, Mary Lee and Elizabeth Richardson) the captains were called to account, but no decision was ever rendered (in Richardson’s case, Captain Prescott’s accuser could not appear in court, and the case was dismissed on the technicality.) Mary Lee’s case in particular dramatizes the sort of insane paranoia that can happen aboard a storm-tossed ship; in order to maintain order, Captain John Bosworth absents himself, allowing the crew to hang her while denying culpability (Rutman 209-210). In all cases, the accusation of witchcraft had the same basis: the summoning of storms. Doughtie’s case stands out in several respects: usually the accused is female, usually the accused is an outcast lacking social connections (although there were exceptions, and a number of prominent people were executed for witchcraft), and the climate of the Americas in the mid-seventeenth century was much more favorable to witch persecutions than that of Elizabeth’s England. It is doubtful that Drake would have escaped repercussions if Doughtie, a gentleman of note, had been executed solely on the basis of a witchcraft accusation.

The scene now changes from black comedy to surrealism. Drake suddenly decides that he will spare Doughtie, if only someone can make a suggestion how to do so and yet assure the safety of the fleet. Does Drake feel a sudden stab of remorse, or is he toying with Doughtie? According to Cooke, Doughtie himself argues to be abandoned in Peru, but Drake says only that he cannot answer to the queen if he does so. This is a statement which has been interpreted in numerous ways, including that Drake fears Doughtie will reveal their plan to the Spanish, or Drake believes it inhumane to leave Doughtie among the heathen “cannibals.” The latter fear, as absurd as it seems to the modern mind, was certainly considered by Sir Francis the Younger, who has Doughtie rejecting Drake’s offer to abandon him for just such a reason. Then Drake suggests that he will let Doughtie live if only someone is willing to vouch that he will not endanger the crew. Doughtie turns to John Wynter, who immediately makes such an offer.

If Cooke’s observations are accurate, Drake is flummoxed, but only for a moment. Perhaps, riding his triumph, he didn’t expect anyone to have the courage to stand up for Doughtie, and decided to push his luck to demonstrate both the extent of his fairness and Doughtie’s utter alienation. The plan backfires. Drake then begins to impose absurd conditions: Doughtie must be imprisoned by being nailed up under the hatches. The voyage must be canceled and the fleet must return home to immediately. Of course, a number of the men, who have suffered so much for the sake of the treasure they might win, immediately object. Doughtie’s fate is sealed. Drake gives Doughtie a day to arrange his affairs, “always promisonge that his continuall prayers to God shuld not cease that it would please God to put into his heade how he might do hym good. But he had so often afore sworne that he would hange hym, that I think at thes present he ment to do hym little good,” (Cooke 207).

There are, of course, other versions of the story, even contemporary ones. Some of accounts try to say as little as possible about the incident: Cliffe simply reports, “The lst of June M. Thomas Doughty was brought to his answere, was accused, and convicted of certaine articles, and by M. Drake condemned. He was beheaded the 2 of July, 1578, whose body was buried in the said Island,” (Cliffe 279). The log of Francis Pretty goes into slightly more detail:

In this port our General began to enquire diligently of the actions of Master Thomas Doughty, and found them not to be such as he looked for, but tending rather of contention or mutiny, or some other disorder, whereby, without redress, the success of the voyage might greatly have been hazarded. Whereupon the company was called together and made acquainted with the particulars of the cause, which were found, partly by Master Doughty's own confession, and partly by the evidence of the fact, to be true. Which when our General saw, although his private affection to Master Doughty, as he then in the presence of us all sacredly protested, was great, yet the care he had of the state of the voyage, of the expectation of her Majesty, and of the honour of his country did more touch him, as indeed it ought, than the private respect of one man. So that the cause being throughly heard, and all things done in good order as near as might be to the course of our laws in England, it was concluded that Master Doughty should receive punishment according to the quality of the offence.

Nothing can really be derived from this sketchy account about the real guilt of Thomas Doughtie, but a point of interest is that Pretty reports Drake’s protestation of affection to Doughty, a fact neither reported by Cooke nor Fletcher, but one that will be of enormous import in The World Encompassed.

This account first appeared as an insert to Hakluyt’s Voyages with no identification of the source. Hakluyt’s original account had been suppressed – Quinn argues that this was not due to any lingering secrecy concerning the path of the voyage, but due to Drake’s disfavor with the Queen at the time the Voyages was published (35-36). There has been considerable debate as to whether the additional pages were included when the book was first printed or inserted at a later time. Kelsey makes a persuasive argument that Hakluyt’s version of the circumnavigation was not available until 1595 (178). The Hakluyt story is often attributed to Francis Pretty – indeed, has been repeatedly published under that name. Although Francis Pretty did compose a narrative of circumnavigation, he was actually on Cavendish’s expedition of 1588. It seems that Hakluyt compiled his version from a number of the sources already mentioned – including Fletcher and Cooke (Kelsey 177). For example, the rather unique and detailed description of the coconut is plagiarized directly from Cooke (compare Cooke 190 to Haykluyt 230). However, the above version of the Doughtie story does not appear in any other known account. Where did Hakluyt get this information?

It is possible that the story comes from some unknown source entirely lost to us. Another possibility is that this version of the story came directly from Drake. Hakluyt was Walsingham’s secretary, and would likely have had access to his subject. In this case, the account is hardly unbiased. But this narrative also covers the return home to England, which is in neither Cooke’s, Cliff’s nor Fletcher’s manuscripts. There are details included which are distinctly unfavorable to Drake, so it is unlikely Drake was the sole source for the whole account. A likely possibility is that it is derived from the lost second half of Fletcher’s journal. Supporting this hypothesis is that the embarrassing incident of Fletcher’s excommunication is not included in Hakluyt’s narrative (it comes to us from a document which lists a number of rather short and disjointed memoranda on the journey - Harl. mss. 280, fol. 81). If Fletcher’s missing journal is the source of this material, then it becomes likely that this version of the Doughtie incident is a complete fabrication on the part of Hakluyt (or whoever put together this part of his text.). No matter which possibility is true, the only contemporary version of the Doughtie execution which is entirely favorable to Drake is called into question, a fact which has never deterred Doughtie’s detractors.

The best analysis of the primary source documents concerning the trial is found in David Hannay’s 1898 article, “The Case of Mr. Doughty.” To sum, there are four voices in favor of Doughtie – Cooke, Fletcher, Wynter and John Doughtie (as expressed through his lawsuit and subsequent arrest.) Of these, two – Cooke and Fletcher – give rich amounts of detail. There is only one – Pretty, as quoted above – that seems in favor of Drake, but does not go into enough detail to allow the reader to form any opinions about the merit of the case. Then there are two – Cliffe and de Silva – who mention the trial and execution, but refrain from any comment on the ethics of the proceedings. Hannay analyzes each in depth, asserting that Wynter might have had an ulterior motive (he was trying to defend himself against the charge that he abandoned Drake), but Cooke and Fletcher had no real reasons to lie. He finds the evidence overwhelmingly in favor of Doughtie. Sadly, this clear-sightedness did Doughtie little good when he was condemned.

And was there ever a mutiny brewing in the fleet? The first hint of trouble is found in Doughtie’s original address as he assumes command of the Pelican, “There have been great travails, fallings out and quarrels among you, and that every one of you have been uncertain whom to obey,” (qtd. in Bawlf 88). A perceptive reader will note two ironies 1) Doughtie is trying to quell a potential mutiny, not start one and 2) the trouble on the Pelican is already present – had been fomenting under Drake’s leadership. There is no evidence of any suspicious activity on any of the ships after that, save one – the Elizabeth, a ship which Doughtie never commands and, in fact, is not a passenger upon until the near the end of his life, when he is held a prisoner, forbidden to read or speak to the men. It is on the Elizabeth that he is offered shelter after his trial; it is on the Elizabeth that someone kindly offers him a cabin during his imprisonment – as opposed to his abominable treatment on the Swan, where he was an officer. It is the Elizabeth that harbors the majority of the dissenters, such as Cooke and Vlysses, and it is on the Elizabeth that Drake threatens to hang half the crew. Hannay theorizes that Drake killed Doughtie to make an example of him, but chose him in particular precisely because he was not a ringleader of the men and did not have influential friends at home (exactly the opposite of the story usually told of him). While this vision of a calculating, manipulative and Machiavellian Drake is hard to swallow, consider that there was a man so well-connected that Drake might have thought him untouchable, a man who happened to be captain of the ship where so many of the troubles originated – John Wynter. And if Drake’s aim in executing Doughtie was to scare Wynter, judging from Wynter’s later depositions, he succeeded masterfully. The ploy, however, backfired, for Wynter does exactly the thing of which Doughtie has been accused in so many histories (and did not do!): turns tail and runs for England.

Various reasons for these discontented stirrings have been proposed. The one most often given is tension between the gentlemen and the mariners provoked by the refusal of the gentlemen to work. Indeed, in so many Drake biographies the haughty conduct of the gentlemen is described in such detail (see especially Sanderlin 65 which slips from quoting source documents into a totally fictive account), it comes as a shock to realize that the evidence of this in source documents is almost non-existent. There is only Drake’s famous speech after Doughtie’s execution, the famous one in which he says that he wants the gentlemen to "haul and draw with the mariners.” Even Drake’s statement is ambiguous: its context is a discussion of the "controversies" between the sailors and gentlemen which might well be about other things - such as Doughtie's execution. The standard reason assumed for the conflict is that the gentlemen would not "haul and draw." However, it could be read that they would not do so with the mariners - that is, not work alongside them because the two sides hated each other so bitterly. Examining Drake’s words (as reported by Cooke, but oft quoted as though they were the gospel of naval history):

I would know hym that would refuse to set his hand to a roape, but I know there is not any suche heare; and as gentlemen are verye necessarye for governments sake in the voyadge, so have I shipte them for that, and to some farthar intent, and yet thwghe I knowe saylars to be the most envyous people of the worlde, and so vnruly without government, yet may I not be without them. (Cooke 213)

Interestingly, Drake seems to come down more strongly against the mariners than the gentlemen, which may indicate an attempt to be conciliatory towards his social superiors. It may also reflect a surprising truth: while there may be a lack of evidence of bad faith on the part of the gentlemen, there is a lot of evidence that the mariners did everything in their power to make these men miserable. Resentment over the privileged status of the gentlemen at home seems to have erupted into a conscious program of harassment most evident on the Swan, centered on the hapless Doughtie but also encompassing Captain Chester (no friend of Doughtie’s) and “some other gentlemen.” The same type of thing seemed to be happening on the Mary, where Cooke was located: “a sorte of badd and envious people, as saylers and such lyke” in Drake’s entourage encouraged the mistreatment of these men, no doubt feeding into Drake’s own insecurities about his humble origins.

Other possibilities for the source of trouble have been raised. John Wynter seems to have protested that what was a voyage of trade and discovery was circumvented into a pirate raid. His statement, however, was made when he testified during the Portuguese claim for restitution concerning the capture of the Santa Maria (Mary), and he might have been stretching the truth to excuse his own behavior. From this, a number of historians have drawn the conclusion that there was a “peace party” in the fleet with Doughtie and Wynter at the head. Andrews has argued persuasively that in Doughtie’s case, at least, this could not have been true (725-26). It seems clear from his actions that he knew the intent of the mission and, initially, at least, supported Drake. The claim has also been made that Doughtie wished to take the fleet into northern waters for the purpose of piracy, mostly based upon the captured hidalgo de Zarate’s secondhand report of Drake’s own words. But this charge is never brought against Doughtie at his trial, and it seems likely, given that Doughtie’s most trivial remarks were used against him, that if he had suggested something of such import, it most certainly would have been mentioned on that occasion.

Most likely the discontent arose from a combination of tension between the mariners and the gentlemen, Drake’s initial dishonesty over the destination of the voyage, hardships such as bad weather and scurvy, and the continuing lack of substantial profit which continued from the Atlantic crossing through the Straits of Magellan well into 1579. It seems unlikely that something so organized as a mutiny was planned, and certainly not under the direction of Doughtie, who could not marshal enough support to keep his neck from the axe. Nevertheless, and despite the fact that no fellow collaborators are ever indicted, Thomas Doughtie is found guilty of mutiny, the perpetuator of an absurd one-man conspiracy, and condemned to die.

Thus ends the part of Francis Drake’s story concerning the mutiny of Thomas Doughtie. And, in one of the most stunningly elegant rhetorical moves of all time, thus begins the story of Thomas Doughtie, martyr. With one day left to live, Doughtie dazzles all present with his courtesy, piety and wit. It has been said that in death, Doughtie showed a poise that he never proved capable of during his life – “whatever was good in Doughty assumed command of him,” (Benson 134). But men do not live their lives in disconnected pieces. Whatever quality Doughtie possessed on his last day, it was likely to be present all his days. There was only one difference on Doughtie’s last day – he finally has the opportunity to act out his own script.

Fletcher, as seen, stressed Doughtie’s spiritual leanings in his description, and at the moments of death the language soars into flights of mysticism. “...long before his death he seemed to be mortified and to be ravished with the desire of God’s kingdom; ye to be dissolved and to be with Christ, in whose death so many virtues were cutt off, as dropps of blood were shed,” (Drake 63 Fletcher note). Of course this area would be of particular concern to the chaplain, and, as we have seen, Fletcher has a tendency towards the histrionic. John Cooke, however, is a different story. Cooke himself shows little interest in religion or religious language until the death of Doughtie. He reports that Doughtie spent a little time to set his affairs in order, mainly distributing the property he had with him (which was probably the substance of his investment in the voyage). This must also have included writing the codicil to his will canceling his burial arrangements in England and redistributing the money he had allocated for such in pensions to those of his soldiers who remained upon the voyage – and a substantial bequest to Vicarye, who by this time he must have perceived as his closest friend. Cooke tells us that the rest of Doughtie’s remaining day and a half was spent in prayer until Drake commanded that he prepare to die.

“Then Mastar Dowghtye, with a more cherefoll countenance then evar he had in all his lyfe to the showe, as one that dyd altogether contempne lyffe, prayed hym that ere he dyed he might receive the sacrament,” (Cooke 208). Not to be upstaged, Drake offers to take it with him. Doughtie receives this rather tactless offer not only with grace, but enthusiasm. But before they do so, Drake asks Doughtie how he would die. Doughtie chooses the axe, probably with some relief that he is not to suffer the disgrace of being hanged. Perhaps at this point, Drake realizes that he is walking the edge of propriety with his treatment of Doughtie, and that it is important to be perceived as behaving magnanimously. He then offers to shoot Doughtie himself so that the condemned might die “of the hands of a gentleman.” Doughtie’s response to this is not recorded, but he obviously declined, and with no recorded loss of good humor for the content of this morbid conversation – indeed, perhaps some amusement at Drake’s pretensions of class.

During the communion, Cooke continues to be astonished at Doughtie’s pious resolve: “...he sure shewed hym selfe to have all his affiance and onely trust in God, he shewed hym selfe so valiant in this extremities as the worlde myght wonder at, he semed to have conquered deathe it selfe, and it was not sene that of all this daye before his deathe that evar he altered one jot his countenaunce, but kept it as stayed and fyrme as yf he had had some message to delyvar to some noble man,” (Cooke 208). Fletcher adds that before communion, Doughtie swears upon his soul that he is innocent of the charges against him, a statement he repeats at the moment of the execution.

The condemned man must have a last meal, but Drake, now caught in the theatre of the whole affair, decides to throw a banquet which he shares with the condemned. The scene of piety and chivalry that follows is of such haunting beauty that Robert Southey in his Life of Drake accuses Sir Francis the Younger of making the whole thing up. Corbett points out that Southey did not know of the manuscript of Cooke’s account, which confirms the details in a light much less friendly to Drake than the story in The World Encompassed (260). Of note is that the agreement between the two stories would indicate that the second Sir Francis had indeed read Cooke’s manuscript. Following the dinner, an intriguing incident takes place. Doughtie asks to speak alone to Drake, which Cooke records as taking “halfe a quarter of an howre.” No one knows what passed between the two men, adding to the mystery of the surrealistic scene.

Ready to die, Doughtie kneels in prayer, asking God to protect the queen and to assure the safety and profit of the voyage. He then addresses his farewell wishes to his friends in England, most especially to be remembered to Sir William Wynter. At this point in the drama, one can almost feel John Wynter cringe. Then Doughtie turns to Drake and jokes, “Nowe, truly, I may say, as dyd ser Thomas More, that he that cuts of my heade shall have little honestie, my necke is so shorte,” (Cooke 209). Corbett points out that this detail in particular indicates Cooke’s version is probably an honest attempt to remember what exactly happened and not a fabrication devised solely to slander Drake – or else why misquote More when the actual quote would have been readily available (260)?

But why did Doughtie quote More in the first place? The jocularity fits his mood (although he is about to broach a most serious subject, as will be seen). Perhaps he also wanted to draw a parallel between his situation and More's as innocent men condemned out of malice and political expediency. Perhaps in his own mind, he sees himself martyred, like More – he has assuredly conducted himself in such fashion. The parallel is strained, certainly, and it is interesting that More is a Catholic. It has been speculated that Doughtie had Catholic sympathies, supposedly coming from a Catholic family. The connection is sometimes even strained to include the accusation that Doughtie was working for the Spaniards, but even Corbett rejects this, pointing out that the Spanish ambassador Mendoza had no idea where Drake was going when the fleet left port in 1577 (226).

Reading over Doughtie’s will, it is clear that the Catholic theory is completely unfounded. While the Anglican formulae concerning death and the hereafter contained therein are commonplace, Doughtie’s will stands out in the sheer volume of religious platitudes produced before he gets down to business. No wonder Fletcher liked him – they shared a taste for spiritual effusiveness. In any case, it is untenable to believe that Doughtie was Catholic in any regard, but the content of the will does reinforce the sincerity of the drama at San Julian. Doughtie was indeed a man who took his religion seriously. In all likelihood, he did have some sort of epiphany the night before his death; his good cheer is not just a façade to upstage Drake, nor is it merely an example, as is oft repeated, of an Elizabethan gentleman demonstrating that he could lose with grace.

Doughtie next addresses the company, begging their forgiveness if any have suffered on his account, in particular Hughe Smythe and Thomas Cuttle. Smythe then begs Doughtie to assure Drake that he was not part of a conspiracy against the captain general. Again, Doughtie protests his innocence. There was no conspiracy; no one plotted with him against Drake, and he, himself, never thought ill of his tormentor. Perhaps shamed into compliance, Drake promises Smythe that for Doughtie’s sake, he will not be harmed although Drake had planned to cut his ears off. Drake does seem to keep this promise to Smythe; it will be seen how far he forgives the other Doughtie sympathizers.

The end having arrived, Doughtie embraces Drake, and, on July 2nd, 1578, in the beautiful words of The World Encompassed, "he came forthe and kneeled downe, preparing at once his necke for the axe, and his spirit for heauen," (67). The Portuguese navigator Nuno de Silva is much less prosaic; in his journal entry for the day he writes simply: "They cut off his head." Drake displays the gruesome object to the company with the famous line, “Loo, this is the end of traytors.” Cooke’s disgust at Drake’s theatrical disrespect of the dead man is manifest (210). According to Fletcher, Doughtie is buried with two men who had died as a result of an attack by Patagonians several days earlier. Fletcher claims to have set up a stone with the names and dates engraved himself; according to The World Encompassed it is the remains of an old grinding stone the men had found upon the island. Drake names the place of Doughtie’s burial, “the Isle of True Justice,” but Fletcher reports that among the men, in respect of what passed with both Magellan and with Drake, the place is called “the Isle of Blood.”

The World Encompassed is effusive on the subject of Doughtie’s death, assuring that he has redeemed himself by the “worthie manner of his death (being much more honorable by it, then blameable for any other of his actions)” (67) – certainly a strange sentiment considering this text’s earlier claim that Doughtie intended to murder Drake! It goes on to say that all stain on his character is nullified by his beautiful death, and that he “left vnto our fleete a lamentable example of a goodly gentleman, who in seeking advancement vnfit for him, cast away himselfe; and vnto posteritie a monument of, I know not what…” (67). The younger Francis Drake wants to draw some great moral lesson from the incident, but in the end, he must admit his confusion as to the significance of the events. Predictably, the conclusion Cooke draws is much more definite: Drake “mordered hym that yf he had well loked into himself had bene a more sure and stedfast frend vnto hym than evar was Pythias to his frind Damon,” (202).

Next page - Thomas Doughtie: the Martyr - Repercussions at Sea and at Home

This article is a working preliminary draft, NOT yet submitted for peer review. Leave your comments on the discussion page (talk page) or contact the First Author, Scaine, at their talk page or by email.