SIR FRANCIS DRAKE AND THE PLYMOUTH CORPORATION. 493 
rents of the mills were reaping a tardy reward for their patience 
and outlay. Standing on the firm foundation of the Corporate 
Accounts, we can see unmoved the gradual progress of a tradition 
which, by the accretions of generations, uncorrected by reference to 
record, and therefore free to fancy, was to develope into the full- 
blown myth since handed down. 
Those who appeal to tradition against record should consider 
what it involves. The Spaniards said of Drake that he was “a 
devil and no man.” In like manner Peele calls him “ the dreadful 
dragon.” ‘Tradition says of him (and, unsupported by evidence, 
one tradition is as good as another), that he “brought in” the 
water by art magic, compelling a Dartmoor spring to follow his 
horse’s tail into the town; and that as the water ran before his 
door he dipped his scarlet gown therein for joy, which probably 
accounts by imitation for the number of Corporate coat tails im- 
mersed at sundry Fishing Feasts of later date—if wicked rumour 
speaketh truly—after dinner. Tradition avers that he made fire 
ships by throwing chips of wood from the Hoe into the Sound; 
that he “‘shot the gulf” which divided this upper world from the 
antipodes by a pistol, painted in one of his portraits; that he 
threw a poor lad overboard lest the boy should turn out a cleverer 
man than himself; that he fired a cannon ball through the earth 
to save his wife from committing bigamy; that he rises to his 
revels when you beat his old drum at Buckland Abbey; that he is 
the “ wild huntsman” with the ‘“‘ wish hounds” of Dartmoor; and 
that the only reason why Tavistock is not now a seaport is that 
the inhabitants would not grant Drake an estate on which he had 
set his heart! Strange that with all his philanthropy he should, 
if hearsay be true, have tried to drive such a hard bargain with 
his native town. What is the value of unsupported tradition in 
connection with a man whose memory is wrapped in such a cloud 
of legendary lore as thist* Of all the Englishmen who have 
been reputed dealers with the devil, from Roger Bacon to Oliver 
Cromwell, there is not one whose memory has blossomed into such 
exuberant legend as Drake. This water myth is no isolated fancy, 
but has its place as an integral part of one inconsistent whole. 
* Southey, in a letter to Mrs. Bray (Tamar and Tavy, ii., p. 34, 2nd ed.), 
points out that the miracle of leading the water is common in the lives of 
the saints, and that the Irish ones generally led it ‘‘up hill.” 
