SEARCH FOR A NORTH-EAST PASSAGE
England was now awaking from her sleep--too late to possess the Spice
Islands--too late for India and the Cape of Good Hope--too late, it
would seem, for the New World. The Portuguese held the eastern route,
the Spaniards the western route to the Spice Islands. But what if there
were a northern route? All ways apparently led to Cathay. Why should
England not find a way to that glorious land by taking a northern
course?
"If the seas toward the north be navigable we may go to these Spice
Islands by a shorter way than Spain and Portugal," said Master Thorne
of Bristol--a friend of the Cabots.
"But the northern seas are blocked with ice and the northern lands
are too cold for man to dwell in," objected some.
"_There is no land uninhabitable, nor sea unnavigable_," was the
heroic reply.
"It was in this belief, and in this heroic temper, that England set
herself to take possession of her heritage, the north. But it was not
till the reign of Edward VI. that a Company of Merchant Adventurers
was formed for the discovery of Regions, Dominions, Islands, and
places unknown," with old Sebastian Cabot as its first governor, and
not till the year 1553 that three little ships under Sir Hugh Willoughby
and Richard Chancellor were fitted out for a northern cruise. They
carried letters of introduction from the boy-king of England to "all
Kings, Princes, Rulers, Judges, and Governors of the Earth in all
places under the universal heaven," including those "inhabiting the
north-east parts of the world toward the mighty Empire of Cathay."
Sir Hugh Willoughby, "a most valiant gentleman," hoisted the English
flag on the _Bona Esperanza_, a good little ship of one hundred and
twenty tons. The next in command was Richard Chancellor, "a man of
great estimation for many good parts of wit in him," who sailed the
_Edward Bonadventure_, which though not so fast as the flag-ship, was
slightly larger. So certain were the promoters that the ships would
reach the hot climates beyond Cathay that they had them sheathed with
lead to protect them from worms which had proved so destructive in
the tropics before.
The account of the start of these first English Arctic explorers is
too quaint to be passed in silence. "It was thought best that by the
20th of May the Captains and Mariners should take shipping and depart
if it pleased God. They, having saluted their acquaintance, one his
wife, another his children, another his kinsfolk, and another his
friends dearer than his kinsfolk, were ready at the day appointed.
The greater ships are towed down with boats and oars, and the mariners,
being all apparelled in sky-coloured cloth, made way with diligence.
And being come near to Greenwich (where the Court then lay), the
Courtiers came running out and the common people flocked together,
standing very thick upon the shore: the Privy Council, they looked
out of the windows of the Court, and the rest ran up to the tops of
the towers, and the mariners shouted in such sort that the sky rang
again with the noise thereof. But, alas! the good King Edward--he only
by reason of his sickness was absent from this show."
The ships dropped down to Woolwich with the tide and coasted along
the east coast of England till "at the last with a good wind they hoisted
up sail and committed themselves to the sea, giving their last adieu
to their native country--many of them could not refrain from tears."
Richard Chancellor himself had left behind two little sons, and his
poor mind was tormented with sorrow and care.
By the middle of July the North Sea had been crossed, and the three
small ships were off the shores of Norway, coasting among the islands
and fiords that line that indented kingdom. Coasting still northward,
Willoughby led his ships to the Lofoten Islands, "plentifully
inhabited by very gentle people" under the King of Denmark. They sailed
on--
"To the west of them was the ocean,
To the right the desolate shore."
till they had passed the North Cape, already discovered by Othere,
the old sea-captain who dwelt in Helgoland.
A terrible storm now arose, and "the sea was so outrageous that the
ships could not keep their intended course, but some were driven one
way and some another way to their great peril and hazard." Then Sir
Hugh Willoughby shouted across the roaring seas to Richard Chancellor,
begging him not to go far from him. But the little ships got separated
and never met again. Willoughby was blown across the sea to Nova Zembla.
"The sea was rough and stormy,
The tempest howled and wailed,
And the sea-fog like a ghost
Haunted that dreary coast.
But onward still I sailed."
The weather grew more and more Arctic, and he made his way over to
a haven in Lapland where he decided to winter. He sent men to explore
the country, but no signs of mankind could be found; there were bears
and foxes and all manner of strange beasts, but never a human being.
It must have been desperately dreary as the winter advanced, with ice
and snow and freezing winds from the north. What this little handful
of Englishmen did, how they endured the bitter winter on the desolate
shores of Lapland, no man knows. Willoughby was alive in January
1554--then all is silent.
And what of Richard Chancellor on board the _Bonadventure_? "Pensive,
heavy, and sorrowful," but resolute to carry out his orders, "Master
Chancellor held on his course towards that unknown part of the world,
and sailed so far that he came at last to the place where he found
no night at all, but a continual light and brightness of the Sun,
shining clearly upon the huge and mighty Sea." After a time he found
and entered a large bay where he anchored, making friends with the
fisher folk on the shores of the White Sea to the north of Russia.
So frightened were the natives at the greatness of the English ships
that at first they ran away, half-dead with fear. Soon, however, they
regained confidence and, throwing themselves down, they began to kiss
the explorer's feet, "but he (according to his great and singular
courtesy) looked pleasantly upon them." By signs and gestures he
comforted them until they brought food to the "new-come guests," and
went to tell their king of the arrival of "a strange nation of singular
gentleness and courtesy."
Then the King of Russia or Muscovie--Ivan Vasiliwich--sent for Master
Chancellor to go to Moscow. The journey had to be made in sledges over
the ice and snow. A long and weary journey it must have been, for his
guide lost the way, and they had travelled nearly one thousand five
hundred miles before Master Chancellor came at last to Moscow, the
chief city of the kingdom, "as great as the city of London with all
its suburbs," remarks Chancellor. Arrived at the King's palace, Master
Chancellor was received by one hundred Russian courtiers dressed in
cloth of gold to the very ankles. The King sat aloft on a high throne,
with a crown of gold on his head, holding in his hand a glittering
sceptre studded with precious stones. The Englishman and his
companions saluted the King, who received them graciously and read
the letter from Edward VI. with interest. They did not know that the
boy-king was dead, and that his sister Mary was on the throne of England.
The King was much interested in the long beards grown by the Englishmen.
That of one of the company was five foot two inches in length, "thick,
broad, and yellow coloured." "This is God's gift," said the Russians.
[Illustration: IVAN VASILIWICH, KING OF MUSCOVIE. From a sixteenth
century woodcut.]
To Edward VI. of England the King sent a letter by the hands of Richard
Chancellor, giving leave readily for England to trade with Russia.
Master Chancellor seems to have arrived home again safely with his
account of Russia, which encouraged the Merchant Adventurers to send
forth more ships to develop trade with this great new country of which
they knew so little.
To this end Anthony Jenkinson, "a resolute and intelligent gentleman,"
was selected, and "with four tall, well-appointed ships he sailed on
12th May 1557 toward the land of Russia." He reached Cape North on
2nd July, and a few days later he passed the spot where Sir Hugh
Willoughby and all his company had perished. Anchoring in the Bay of
St. Nicholas, he took a sledge for Moscow, where he delivered his
letters safely to the King. So icebound was the country that it was
April 1558 before he was able to leave Moscow for the south, to
accomplish, if possible, the orders of the Merchant Adventurers to
find an overland route to Cathay. With letters of introduction from
the Russian King to the princes and kings through whose dominions he
was to pass, Master Jenkinson made his way to the Volga, whence he
continued his voyage with a Russian captain who was travelling south
in great style to take up a command at Astrakan with five hundred boats
laden with soldiers, stores, food, and merchandise.
After three months' travelling, and having passed over some one
thousand two hundred miles, the Englishman reached the south. The city
of Astrakan offered no attractions and no hope of trade, so Jenkinson
boldly took upon himself to navigate the mouth of the Volga and to
reach the Caspian Sea. He was the first Englishman to cross Russia
from the White Sea to the Caspian. Never before on the Caspian had
the red cross of St. George been seen flying from the masthead of a
ship sailed by Englishmen. After three weeks' buffeting by contrary
winds, they found themselves on the eastern shores, and, getting
together a caravan of one thousand camels, they went forward. No sooner
had they landed than they found themselves in a land of thieves and
robbers. Jenkinson hastened to the Sultan of these parts, a noted
robber himself, to be kindly received by the Tartar Prince, who set
before him the flesh of a wild horse and some mare's milk. Then the
little English party travelled on for three weeks through desolate
land with no rivers, no houses, no inhabitants, till they reached the
banks of the Oxus. "Here we refreshed ourselves," says the explorer,
"having been three days without water and drink, and tarried there
all the next day making merry with our slain horses and camels." For
a hundred miles they followed the course of this great river until
they reached another desert, where they were again attacked by bands
of thieves and robbers.
It was Christmas Eve when they at last reached Bokhara, only to find
that the merchants were so poor that there was no hope of any trade
worth following, though the city was full of caravans from India and
the Far East. And here they heard that the way to Cathay was barred
by reason of grievous wars which were going on. Winter was coming on;
so Jenkinson remained for a couple of months before starting on his
long journey home. With a caravan of six hundred camels he made his
way back to the Caspian, and on 2nd September he had reached Moscow
safely with presents of "a white cow's tail of Cathay and a drum of
Tartary" for the King, which seemed to give that monarch the greatest
pleasure. He evidently stayed for a time in Russia, for it is not till
the year 1560 that we find him writing to the Merchant Adventurers
that "at the next shipping I embark myself for England."
[Illustration: ANTHONY JENKINSON'S MAP OF RUSSIA, MUSCOVY, AND
TARTARY, PUBLISHED IN 1562.]
While Jenkinson was endeavouring to reach the Far East by land, a
Portuguese named Pinto had succeeded in reaching it by sea. The
discovery of Japan is claimed by three people. Antonio de Mota had
been thrown by a storm on to the island of Nison, called by the Chinese
Jepwen--Japan--in the year 1542. Pinto claims to have discovered it
the same year. It seems that the Japanese were expecting the return
of a god, and as the white men hove in sight they exclaimed: "These
are certainly the Chinchi cogies spoken of in our records, who, flying
over the waters, shall come to be lords of the lands where God has
placed the greatest riches of the world. It will be fortunate for us
if they come as friends."
Now men of the time refused to believe in the travels of Mendex Pinto.
"He should be called Mendax Pinto," said one, "whose book is one
continued chain of monstrous fiction which deserves no credit," while
a hundred and fifty years later Congreve wrote--
"Ferdinando Mendez Pinto was but a type of thee,
Thou liar of the first magnitude."