THE ROUTE TO THE EAST
I want in this chapter to call your attention to a very gallant English
captain named James Lancaster, whose grit and endurance in the time of
hard things, whose self-effacing loyalty to duty, show that there were
giants afloat in those days in the ships which were to voyage to the
East.
The account of the first of these voyages I have taken from Hakluyt,
who in turn had obtained it by word of mouth from a man named Edmund
Barker, of Ipswich. Hakluyt was known for his love of associating with
seamen and obtaining from them first-hand accounts of their experiences
afloat. And inasmuch as Barker is described as Lancaster’s lieutenant
on the voyage, and the account was witnessed by James Lancaster’s
signature, we may rely on the facts being true. Hakluyt was of course
very closely connected with the subject of our inquiry. When the East
India Company was started he was appointed its first historiographer,
a post for which he was eminently fitted. He lectured on the subject
of voyaging to the Orient, he made the maps and journals which came
back in these ships useful to subsequent navigators and of the greatest
interest to merchants and others. And when he died his work was in
part carried on by Samuel Purchas of _Pilgrimes_ fame. The second of
these voyages, in which Lancaster again triumphs over what many would
call sheer bad luck, has been taken from a letter which was sent to
the East India Company by one of its servants, and is preserved in the
archives of the India Office and will be dealt with in the following
chapter. But for the present we will confine our attention to the
voyage of those three ships mentioned at the end of the last chapter.
After leaving Devonshire the _Penelope_, _Marchant Royall_ and _Edward
Bonaventure_ arrived at the Canary Isles in a fortnight, having the
advantage of a fair north-east wind. Before reaching the Equator
they were able to capture a Portuguese caravel bound from Lisbon for
Brazil with a cargo of Portuguese merchandise consisting of 60 tuns of
wine, 1200 jars of oil, about 100 jars of olives and other produce.
This came as a veritable good fortune to the English ships, for the
latter’s crews had already begun to be afflicted with bad health. “We
had two men died before wee passed the line, and divers sicke, which
tooke their sicknesse in those hote climates: for they be wonderful
unholesome from 8 degrees of Northerly latitude unto the line, at that
time of the yeere: for we had nothing but Ternados, with such thunder,
lightning, and raine, that we could not keep our men drie 3 houres
together, which was an occasion of the infection among them, and their
eating of salt victuals, with lacke of clothes to shift them.” After
crossing the Equator they had for a long time an east-south-east wind,
which carried them to within a hundred leagues of the coast of Brazil,
and then getting a northerly wind they were able to make for the Cape
of Good Hope, which they sighted on 28th July. For three days they
stood off and on with a contrary wind, unable to weather it. They had
had a long voyage, and the health of the crew in those leaky, stinking
ships had become bad. They therefore made for Table Bay, or, as it was
then called, Saldanha, where they anchored on 1st August.
The men were able to go ashore and obtain exercise after being cramped
for so many weeks afloat, and found the land inhabited by black
savages, “very brutish.” They obtained fresh food by shooting fowl,
though “there was no fish but muskles and other shel-fish, which we
gathered on the rockes.” Later on a number of seals and penguins were
killed and taken on board, and eventually, thanks to negro assistance,
cattle and sheep were obtained by bartering. But when the time came
to start off for the rest of the voyage it was very clear that the
squadron, owing to the loss by sickness, was deficient in able-bodied
men. It was therefore “thought good rather to proceed with two ships
wel manned, then with three evill manned: for here wee had of sound
and whole men but 198.” It was deemed best to send home the _Marchant
Royall_ with fifty men, many of whom were pretty well recovered from
the devastating disease of scurvy. The extraordinary feature of the
voyage was that the sailors suffered from this disease more than the
soldiers. “Our souldiers which have not bene used to the Sea, have
best held out, but our mariners dropt away, which (in my judgement)
proceedeth of their evill diet at home.”
So the other two ships proceeded on their way towards India: but not
long after rounding the Cape of Good Hope they encountered “a mighty
storme and extreeme gusts of wind” off Cape Corrientes, during which
the _Edward Bonaventure_ lost sight of the _Penelope_. The latter, in
fact, was never seen again, and there is no doubt that she foundered
with all hands. The _Edward_, however, pluckily kept on, though four
days later “we had a terrible clap of thunder, which slew foure of our
men outright, their necks being wrung in sonder without speaking any
word, and of 94 men there was not one untouched, whereof some were
stricken blind, others were bruised in their legs and armes, and others
in their brests, so that they voided blood two days after, others
were drawn out at length as though they had bene racked. But (God be
thanked) they all recovered saving onely the foure which were slaine
out right.” The same electric storm had wrecked the mainmast “from
the head to the decke” and “some of the spikes that were ten inches
into the timber were melted with the extreme heate thereof.” Truly
Lancaster’s command was a very trying one. What with a scurvy crew, an
unhandy ship, now partially disabled, and both hurricanes and electric
storms, there was all the trouble to break the spirit of many a man.
Still, he held determinedly on his way whither he was bound.
But his troubles were now very nearly ended in one big disaster. After
having proceeded along the south-east coast of Africa, and steering in
a north-easterly direction, the ship was wallowing along her course
over the sea when a dramatic incident occurred. It was night, and while
some were below sleeping, one of the men on deck, peering through
the moonlight, saw ahead what he took for breakers. He called the
attention of his companions and inquired what it was, and they readily
answered that it was the sea breaking on the shoals. It was the “Iland
of S. Laurence.” “Whereupon in very good time we cast about to avoyd
the danger which we were like to have incurred.” But it had been a
close shave, and though Lancaster was to endure many other grievous
hardships before his days were ended, yet but for the light of the
kindly moon his ship, his crew and his own life would almost certainly
have been lost that night.
But this was presently to be succeeded by the luck of falling in with
three or four Arab craft, which were taken, their cargo of ducks
and hens being very acceptable. They watered the ship at the Comoro
Islands; a Portuguese boy, whom they had taken when the Arab craft were
captured, being a useful acquisition as interpreter. But the master of
the _Edward Bonaventure_, having gone ashore with thirty of his men to
obtain a still further amount of fresh water, was treacherously taken
and sixteen of his company slain. It was just one further source of
discomfort for Lancaster now to have lost his ship’s master and more
of his crew. So thence, “with heavie hearts,” the _Edward_ sailed for
Zanzibar, where they learnt that the Portuguese had already warned the
natives of the character of Englishmen, in making out that the latter
were “cruell people and men-eaters, and willed them if they loved
safetie in no case to come neere us. Which they did onely to cut us off
from all knowledge of the state and traffique of the countrey.”
The jealousy of the Portuguese was certainly very great: they were
annoyed, and only naturally, that another nation should presume to
burst into the seas which they had been the first of Europeans to open.
Off this coast, from Melinda to Mozambique, a Portuguese admiral was
cruising in a small “frigate”—that is to say, a big galley-type of
craft propelled by sails and oars. And had this “frigate” been strong
enough she would certainly have assailed Lancaster’s ship, for she came
into Zanzibar to “view and to betray our boat if he could have taken at
any time advantage.”
It was whilst riding at anchor here that another electric storm
sprung the _Edward’s_ foremast, which had to be repaired—“fished,” as
sailors call it—with timber from the shore. And, to add still more
to Lancaster’s bad luck, the ship’s surgeon, whilst ashore with the
newly appointed master of the ship, looking for oxen, got a sunstroke
and died. But the sojourn in that anchorage came to an end on 15th
February. The progress of this voyage had been slow, but it had been
sure. Relying on what charts he possessed, and then, after rounding
the Cape of Good Hope, practically coasting up the African shore until
reaching Zanzibar, he had wisely remained here some time. For this was
the port whence the dhows traded backwards and forwards across the
Indian Ocean and the East, and it must be remembered that the Arabs
were skilled navigators and very fine seamen, who had been making these
ocean voyages for centuries, whilst Englishmen were doing little more
than coasting passages. Zanzibar was clearly the place where Lancaster
could pick up a good deal of valuable knowledge regarding the voyage to
India, and, incidentally, he took away from here a certain negro who
had come from the East Indies and was possessed of knowledge of the
country.
From Goa to Zanzibar the Arabian ships were wont to bring cargoes of
pepper, and it was now Lancaster’s intention to cut straight across
the Indian Ocean and make Cape Comorin—the southernmost point of the
Indian peninsula—as his land-fall. He then meant to hang about this
promontory, because it was to the traffic of the East what such places
as Ushant and Dungeness to-day are to the shipping of the West. He knew
that there was plenty of shipping bound from Bengal, the Malay Straits,
from China and from Japan which would come round this cape well laden
with all sorts of Eastern riches. He would therefore lie in wait off
this headland and, attacking a suitable craft, would relieve her of
her wealth. But the intention did not have the opportunity of being
fulfilled as he had wished it. “In our course,” says Lancaster, “we
were very much deceived by the currents that set into the Gulfe of the
Red Sea along the coast of Melinde”—that is to say, from Zanzibar along
the coast known to-day as British East Africa and Somaliland. “And the
windes shortening upon us to the North-east and Easterly, kept us that
we could not get off, and so with the putting in of the currents from
the Westward, set us in further unto the Northward within fourescore
leagues of” Socotra, which was “farre from our determined course and
expectation.”
Therefore, as they had been brought so far to the northward of their
course, Lancaster decided that it were best to run into Socotra or
some port in the Red Sea for fresh supplies; but, luckily for him, the
wind then came north-west, which was of course a fair wind from his
present position to the south-west coast of India. Being a wise leader
he of course now availed himself of this good fortune and sped over
the Indian Ocean towards Cape Comorin, when the wind came southerly:
but presently the wind came again more westerly, and so in the month
of May 1592 the Cape was doubled, but without having sighted it, and
then a course was laid for the Nicobar Islands in the Bay of Bengal.
But though they ran on for six days with a fair wind, and plenty of it,
“these Ilands were missed through our masters default for want of due
observation of the South starre.” It would be easy enough to criticise
the lack of skill in the Elizabethan navigators, but it is much fairer
to wonder rather that they were able to find their way as well as they
did over strange seas, considering that until comparatively recently
it was to them practically a new art. Excellent seamen they certainly
had been for centuries: but it was not till long after Prince Henry the
Navigator had taught his own countrymen, that this new sea-learning
of navigation had reached England and “pilots-major” instructed our
seamen in the higher branch of their profession. They were keen, they
were adventurous, and they knew no fear: but these mariners were
rude, unscientific men, who could not always be relied upon to make
observations accurately. They did the best they could with their
astrolabes and cross-staffs, but they lacked the perfection of the
modern sextant. The most they could hope for was to make a land-fall
not too distant from where they wanted to get, and then, having picked
up the land, keep it aboard as far as possible. Thus they would
approach their destined port, off which, by means of parleying with
one of the native craft, they might persuade one of the crew to come
aboard and so pilot them in.
As the _Edward Bonaventure_ had missed the Nicobar Islands, it was
decided to push on to the southward, which would bring them into the
neighbourhood of Sumatra. There they lay two or three days, hoping
for a pilot from Sumatra, which was only about six miles off. And
subsequently, as the winter was approaching, they made for the Islands
of Pulo Pinaou, which they reached in June, and there remained till
the end of August. Many of the crew had again fallen sick, and though
they put them ashore at this place, twenty-six more of them died. Nor
were there many sources of supplies, but only oysters, shell-fish and
the fish “which we tooke with our hookes.” But there was plenty of
timber, and this came in very useful for repairing masts. When the
winter passed and again they put to sea, the crew was now reduced to
thirty-three men and one boy, but not more than twenty-two were fit
for service, and of these not more than one-third were seamen: so the
_Edward_ was scarcely efficient.
But those which remained must have been of a resolute character, for in
a little while they encountered a 60-ton ship, which they attacked and
captured, and, shortly after, a second was also taken. Needless to say,
the cargoes of pepper were discharged into the _Edward_, and even the
sick men were soon reported as “being somewhat refreshed and lustie.”
Lancaster had not by any means forgotten the fact that richly laden
ships from China and Japan would pass through the Malacca Straits, and
having arrived here he lay-to and waited. At the end of five days a
Portuguese sail was descried, laden with rice, “and that night we tooke
her being of 250 tunnes.” This was a big ship for those days, and so
Lancaster determined to keep her as well as her cargo. He therefore put
on board a prize crew of seven, under the command of Edmund Barker.
The latter then came to anchor and hung out a riding-light so that
the _Edward_ could see her position. But the English ship was now so
depleted of men that there were hardly enough men on board to handle
her, and the prize had to send some of the men back to help her to make
up the leeway. It was then decided to take out of the prize all that
was worth having, and afterward, with the exception of the Portuguese
pilot and four other men, she and her crew were allowed to go.
But it was not long before the _Edward_ fell in with a much bigger
ship, this time of 700 tons, which was on her way from India. She had
left Goa with a most valuable cargo, and a smart engagement ended in
her main-yard being shot through, whereupon she came to anchor and
yielded, her people escaping ashore in the boats. Lancaster’s men
found aboard her some brass guns, three hundred butts of wine, “as
also all kind of Haberdasher wares, as hats, red caps knit of Spanish
wooll, worsted stockings knit, shooes, velvets, taffataes, chamlets,
and silkes, abundance of suckets, rice, Venice glasses,” playing-cards
and much else. But trouble was brewing in the _Edward_, and a mutinous
spirit was afoot. Lancaster’s men refused to obey his orders and bring
the “excellent wines” into the _Edward_, so, after taking out of her
all that he fancied, he then let the prize drift out to sea.
From there the _Edward_ sailed to the Nicobar Islands, and afterwards
proceeded to Punta del Galle (Point de Galle, Ceylon), where she
anchored. Lancaster’s intention was again to lie in wait for shipping.
He knew that more than one fleet of richly laden merchantmen would
soon be due to pass that way. First of all he was expecting a fleet
of seven or eight Bengal ships, and then two or three more from
Pegu (to the north-west of Siam); and also there ought to be some
Portuguese ships from Siam. These, he had learned, would pass that way
in about a fortnight, bringing the produce of the country to Cochin
(in the south-west of India), where the Portuguese caracks, or big
merchantmen, would receive the goods and carry them home to Lisbon.
It was a regular, yearly trade, the caracks being due to leave Cochin
in the middle of January. A fine haul was certain, for these various
fleets were bringing all sorts of commodities that were well worth
having—cloth, rice, rubies, diamonds, wines and so on.
But Lancaster was again bound to bow to ill-luck. First of all, he had
brought up where the bottom was foul, so he lost his anchor. He had
on board two spare anchors, but they were unstocked and in the hold.
This meant that a good deal of time was wasted, and meanwhile the
ship was drifting about the whole night. In addition, to make matters
worse, Lancaster himself fell ill. The current was carrying the ship
to the southward, away from her required position, so in the morning
the foresail was hoisted and preparations were being made to let loose
the other sails, when the men mutinied and said they were determined
they would remain there no longer but would take the ship to England
direct. Lancaster, finding that persuasion was useless and that he
could do nothing with them, had no other alternative but to give way
to their demands: so on 8th December 1592 the _Edward_ set sail for
the Cape of Good Hope. On the way Lancaster recovered his health, and
even amused himself fishing for bonitos. By February they had crossed
the Indian Ocean and made the land by Algoa Bay, South Africa, where
they had to remain a month owing to contrary winds. But in March they
doubled the Cape of Good Hope once more, and on 3rd April reached St
Helena. And here an extraordinary thing happened. When Edmund Barker
went ashore he found an Englishman named Segar, like himself of
Suffolk. He had been left here eighteen months before by the _Marchant
Royall_, which you will remember had been sent home from Table Bay on
the way out. On the way home he had fallen ill and would have died if
he had remained on board, so it had been decided to put him ashore.
When, however, the _Edward’s_ men saw him this time, he was “as fresh
in colour and in as good plight of body to our seeming as might be, but
crazed in minde and halfe out of his wits, as afterward wee perceived:
for whether he were put in fright of us, not knowing at first what we
were, whether friends or foes, or of sudden joy when he understood we
were his olde consorts and countreymen, hee became idel-headed, and for
eight dayes space neither night nor day tooke any naturall rest, and so
at length died for lacke of sleepe.”
[Illustration: THE EAST INDIAMAN “KENT,” 1,000 TONS.
(By courtesy of Messrs. T. H. Parker Brothers)]
On 12th April 1593 the _Edward_ left St Helena, and the mutinous
spirit was not yet dead on board. Lancaster’s intention was to cross
the Atlantic to Pernambuco, Brazil, but the sailors were infuriated
and wished to go straight home. So, the next day, whilst they were
being told by the captain to finish a foresail which they had in
hand, some of them asserted determinedly that, unless the ship were
taken straight home, they would do nothing: and to this Lancaster was
compelled to agree. But when they were about eight degrees north of the
Equator the ship made little progress for six weeks owing to calms and
flukey winds. Meanwhile the men’s victuals were running short, and the
mutinous spirit reasserted itself strongly. They knew that the officers
of the ship had their own provisions locked away in private chests—this
had been done as a measure of precaution—and the men now threatened to
break open these chests. Lancaster therefore determined, on the advice
of one of the ship’s company, to make for the Island of Trinidad in
the West Indies, where he would be able to obtain supplies. But, being
ignorant of the currents of the Gulf of Paria, he was carried out of
his course and eventually anchored off the Isle of Mona after a few
days more.
After refreshing the stores and stopping a big leak, the _Edward_ next
put to sea bound for Newfoundland, but a heavy gale sent them back
to Porto Rico, the wind being so fierce that even the furled sails
of the ship were carried away, and the ship was leaking badly, with
six feet of water in the hold. The victuals had run out, so that they
were compelled to eat hides. Small provisions were obtained at Porto
Rico, and then five of the crew deserted. From there the ship went to
Mona again, and whilst a party of nineteen were on shore, including
Lancaster and Barker, to gather food, a gale of wind sprang up, which
made such a heavy sea that the boat could not have taken them back to
the _Edward_. It was therefore deemed wiser to wait till the next day:
but during the night, about midnight, the carpenter cut the _Edward’s_
cable, so that she drifted away to sea with only five men and a boy
on board. At the end of twenty-nine days a French ship, afterwards
found to be from Dieppe, was espied. In answer to a fire made on shore
she dowsed her topsails, approached the land, hoisted out her ensign
and came to anchor. Some of the _Edward’s_ crew, including Barker and
Lancaster, went aboard, but the rest of the party to the number of
seven could not be found. Six more were taken on board another Dieppe
ship and so reached San Domingo, where they traded with the people for
hides. Here news reached them of their companions left in Mona. It was
learnt that, of the seven men there left, two had broken their necks
while chasing fowls on the cliffs, three were slain by Spaniards upon
information given by the men who went away in the _Edward_, but the
remaining two now joined Lancaster by a ship from another port.
Eventually Lancaster and his companions took passage aboard another
Dieppe vessel, and arrived at the latter port after a voyage of
forty-two days. They then crossed in a smaller craft to Rye, where they
landed on 24th May 1594.
What good, then, had this expedition done? In spite of losing two out
of the three ships, in spite of the losses of many men and the whole
of the rich cargoes which had been obtained by capture, Lancaster and
his companions had returned to England with something worth having.
How had English trade with India been benefited? The answer is simple.
If nothing tangible had been obtained, this expedition had been a
great lesson. If it had brought back no spices or diamonds, it had
brought much valuable information. Once again it showed to the English
merchants that there was a fortune for all of them waiting in the
Orient, and it showed by bitter experience the mistakes that must be
avoided. The voyage had been begun at the wrong season of the year;
it would have to be better thought out, and better provision would
have to be taken to guard against scurvy. The route to India was now
well understood, and it was no longer any Portuguese secret. England
was just on the eve of sharing with the Portuguese their fortunate
discovery, which eventually the latter were to lose utterly to the
former.