When Essex arrived, Ralegh was master of the island. Ralegh's enemies (a great man seldom lacks such enemies) had long been trying to enflame the antagonism between him and Essex, and now they insisted to Essex that Ralegh's success was flat disobedience, and warranted a heavy penalty. A court martial should be called, and should punish him with death. So when Ralegh visited the Earl's vessel to give an official account of the victory, he was surprised to meet with angry looks and the charge of a breach of the orders. But he convinced Essex that he was within his rights. "None should land any of the troops without the General's presence or his order," said Essex. "There is an Article," replied Ralegh, "that no captain of any ship or company, if he be severed from the fleet shall land anywhere without directions from the General or some principal commander upon pain of death. But I take upon myself to be a principal commander under your Lordship, and therefore not subject to that Article." And he proceeded to explain how the delay of Essex made him think that he was adventuring upon some other enterprise, and how his own company began to murmur and hint at fear. Essex was not easily convinced. Weakness dreads to be slighted, where strength relies upon its own authority. Monson observes in his narrative of the Island Voyage, "The act was urged with that vehemency by those that hated Sir Walter that if my Lord, who by nature was timorous and flexible had not feared how it would be taken in England, I think Sir Walter had smarted for it." The incident illustrates Ralegh's address, a quality which was essential at that time for any success in life; that was the time when man dealt immediately with man. The mind must always be alive and on the alert. Here was Ralegh, coming to report a successful and daring exploit, suddenly obliged to defend himself against a trumped-up charge. If he failed to take in the whole situation in a moment, and to stand his own ground, death would result from the failure. Nor could he simply rely upon justice; he must know the man with whom he was dealing, and the men who were poisoning the General's mind. Ralegh's self-control is as amazing as his address. He had need of both. The General was an arrogant, spoiled youth, angry at the knowledge that his subordinate was a better man, angry at his renewed success. A rash word on Ralegh's part would have been his last. And Ralegh had much cause to hate the young man. They were rivals for the love of a magnificent woman whom they served; their rivalry would accentuate the elder man's dislike of the younger's youth. But there is a dignity about Ralegh's conduct and defence which shows no cringing before the reigning favourite, but a superiority to all pettiness, a kind of freedom from what may quickly become the fetters of personality.