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Smile 40@shutterfly.com and send something meaningful this year. See site for more details. It's April 1595, on the mighty Orinoco river in South America. Under a sky filled with the cries of exotic birds, a small fleet of rowing boats, or wherries, cruises along carrying dozens of pale Englishmen. It's a sweltering evening. The expedition leader pulls at his collar, sweating profusely. His crew are exhausted, and tempers are fraying. He angrily swats at a fat mosquito buzzing about his head, although it is hot now. Just a few hours ago, they were caught in a tempest with little protection from the elements. The rapid transitions from pelting rain to baking sun are sapping their energy. These conditions are worse than anything you'd find in an English prison, and he ought to know the challenge is to keep focus on the job at hand. The search for Manoa, or, as the Spanish conquistadors call it, El Dorado, the city of gold, a fabled metropolis dripping with wealth. As the sailors wearily gulp down their rum rations, the wind starts whipping up again. The men squabble over whose turn it is to take the oars, and though they cannot yet see it, they can hear the thumping cascade of a waterfall somewhere up ahead. Still, their leader urges them on. Overhanging branches and vines start to crowd the boats, so he stands, grabbing his sword to cut a swathe through the knots. But then the rugged riverside terrain gives way to beautiful green plains. In the dusky evening light, he can make out deer gamboling through a copse and the stunning colors of the birds swooping high above, a blur of crimson, orange, green, purple and blue. But it's getting late. He scans the bank for somewhere to moor up for the night. By the light of the huge rising moon up above, he notices the misty spray of that great waterfall. It will soon block their progress. Then suddenly he holds up a hand, sniffing the air. A little way inland is a fire, sending smoke swirling into the sky and the sound of barking. A gang of dogs races down to the water, followed by a posse of men in indigenous dress, and further back, a couple of women. Beautiful women, he notices, but as per his orders, entirely off limits to the English, it pays to make nice with the locals. The adventurers have stumbled upon a village, and their reception committee seems friendly. The Englishmen steer their wherries into the shallows, leaping onto the muddy banks and heaving the vessels ashore. The villagers gesture for them to follow, leading them to a feast cooking on the fire. A few hours of refueling and rest await the travelers before they resume their quest. Tomorrow, as he eats by firelight, the explorer does not know if he'll find El Dorado. But perhaps that doesn't matter. He is leading his nation in a long overdue exploration of the New World, bringing glory to his country and its queen, Elizabeth I. Vitally, he is challenging the dominance of the great enemy, Spain, in these parts, too. If he plays this right, it can only add lustre to his own name, that of Sir Walter Raleigh. Walter Raleigh remains one of the most famous figures of the late Tudor and early Stuart period. Many know him as the man who brought the potato and tobacco to Europe, though it's now known that these claims are false. Others may remember the story of him laying his cape across a puddle in service to his beloved queen. Except this, too, is likely a mere legend. Such mythology detracts from the extraordinary narrative of his actual life. Raleigh was variously a soldier, sailor, courtier, writer, politician, explorer and colonialist, depending on your opinion. He was perhaps a pirate and traitor, too, or else a patriot and hero. Although virtually all his grand schemes ultimately ended in failure, he emerged as a symbol of Elizabethan energy and ambition. So how did this perplexing figure rise from comparatively humble beginnings to become one of Elizabeth's favorites? Did he embark on his perilous overseas adventures for the sake of his nation or his own gain? And should we consider him an enlightened imperialist or a man who simply used alternative means to oppress and exploit indigenous communities? I'm John Hopkins from the Noise Network. This is a short history of Walter Raleigh, though the date is uncertain. Raleigh is born in the early 1550s, the son of a Devonshire gentleman also called Walter Raleigh. Little Walter's family is reasonably wealthy, with connections to the famous Drake and Gilbert seafaring families. Strongly Protestant in faith, Walter Sr. Had been at risk of execution for his religion under Mary's reign. But the family fortunes have improved since Queen Elizabeth took the throne in 1558. Nonetheless, young Walter's prospects are uncertain. Dr. Anna Beer has written extensively about the family, including a biography of Walter.
