by John Butman
To put together Divers Voyages, Hakluyt was fortunate to have access to Michael Lok’s extensive collection of maps, historical documents, and other items pertaining to the Frobisher voyages, including a sketch of Meta Incognita and the Northwest Passage. In return, Hakluyt went out of his way to praise the merchant, who was still trying to rebuild his reputation after the Frobisher debacle. Hakluyt lauded Lok for his expertise in languages and cosmography, asserting that he was a man capable of doing “his country good” and that he deserved a “good reputation and better fortune.”26
Hakluyt’s work was well received. Walsingham personally thanked him, praising the young scholar for shedding “much light for the discovery of the Western parts yet unknown.” In a letter, he urged Hakluyt to continue his efforts, since this would not only be for the young man’s “own good” but also bring “public benefit of this Realm.” He signed the letter “your loving friend.”27
It seems that Divers Voyages did have the desired effect and stimulated investment in Gilbert’s colonial venture. In November 1582, a few months after its publication, Gilbert was able to launch a new corporation with the self-aggrandizing name “the Merchant Adventurers with Humphrey Gilbert.” The entity was to have a governor, treasurer, agent, and secretary—all four senior officials chosen by Gilbert—and eight assistants or directors chosen by the members. It was to be headquartered in the port of Southampton, where Gilbert had concentrated his fund-raising efforts and where he promised to establish an exclusive staple for the American trade. This was a calculated snub to London’s merchants—specifically those from the Muscovy Company who had previously prevented Gilbert from pursuing his American dream.
For Southampton’s merchants, the draw was land, just as it was for Sidney, Peckham, and Gerrard. Under the terms of Gilbert’s offer, those who put in money, but did not go themselves, were to receive one thousand acres if they sent five men and two thousand acres if they sent ten. Those who went but did not invest cash were to be granted a piece of land according to the equipment they brought with them. For example, the man who came furnished with a “sword dagger and arquebuse” would be granted 120 acres. The adventurer who went himself, recruited others to join him, and bore all expenses, got the best deal. If he brought five men, he would be granted 2,000 acres of land. If he could put together a company of ten, he would receive 4,000 acres.28 To avoid the kind of trouble Michael Lok had got himself into, Gilbert promised to reward investors who delivered their funds up front, in advance of the sailing, with an additional eleven hundred acres.
Just as Gilbert casually dispensed land he knew nothing about, the crown also made an extravagant pledge. The queen, according to a report by Mendoza, promised to dispatch 10,000 people, at the government’s expense, to conquer the new land and inhabit the plantation, just as soon as Gilbert had landed and fortified a suitable place.29 If Mendoza’s information was correct—and it may not have been—this would have been Elizabeth’s biggest commitment to any overseas expedition.
Nearly fifty people from Southampton invested in Gilbert’s venture—cloth merchants as well as the middling sort, including bakers, brewers, and a tailor. Walsingham also invested, putting in a relatively modest fifty pounds. To beef up the list of associates, Gilbert granted free trade rights to those who had invested in his first voyage, including Thomas Smythe, and to a number of “grave and honorable personages,” including Cecil, the Dudley brothers, and Sir Christopher Hatton.30
Although the number of investors sounds impressive, most of the financial commitments were small, with many investments of just five to fifteen pounds. In total, Gilbert raised no more than a thousand pounds. As a result, he had to turn to his relatives for extra funds. Walter Ralegh, Sir Humphrey’s half-brother, contributed the Bark Raleigh, an investment worth upward of two thousand pounds. So, while the rhetoric was lofty, enthusiasm ran high, and the venture had friends in high places, the truth was that it was underfunded—which is never a propitious way to begin.31
EVEN WITH LIMITED funds, Gilbert managed to assemble a fleet of five ships and recruit a company of 260 men. There was just one final hurdle to overcome: Elizabeth’s blessing for him to make the journey. She had denied Ralegh permission to participate in the voyage, even though he had contributed his ship. Also, initially, she had refused Gilbert’s request to sail because he was not, as she delicately put it, “of good hap by sea”—which had certainly been demonstrated in his previous voyage.32 Elizabeth only relented and allowed Sir Humphrey to sail after Ralegh pleaded with her on behalf of his half-brother. As Gilbert prepared to embark, Ralegh wrote to him from Richmond, where Elizabeth was holding court, saying that the queen wished him “as great good hap and safety to your ship as if herself were there in person,” enclosing a gift from her: a pendant bearing “an anchor guided by a Lady.”33
The fleet of the Merchant Adventurers with Humphrey Gilbert set sail from Plymouth on June 11, 1583. Gilbert owned the Swallow and the tiny Squirrel. The bark Raleigh was the fleet’s largest vessel at two hundred tons. The Delight, the admiral of the fleet, was captained by William Winter, son of Sir William, surveyor of the navy. The Golden Hind—no doubt named in honor of Drake’s famous ship—was captained by its owner, Edward Hayes. He was an enthusiastic supporter of overseas expansion, had subscribed to Gilbert’s 1578 voyage, was well known to Cecil and his circle, and had agreed to write an account of the voyage.34 On board were men with the wide range of skills needed for the founding of a colony—including shipwrights, masons, carpenters, and smiths, as well as “mineral men” and refiners.35
Gilbert had originally intended to sail south and then proceed north to Newfoundland. But because they were getting a late start and facing contrary winds, they decided to set sail to Newfoundland first. They set off, but after two days at sea, many members of the Raleigh crew were “infected with a contagious disease,” and the ship turned back for Plymouth. This was a severe blow, but Gilbert kept on.36
En route, the ships encountered bad weather, temporarily separated, but managed to rendezvous in Newfoundland at the beginning of August. They gathered at the entrance to St. John’s harbor, where, by Hayes’s count, thirty-six fishing vessels “of all nations” were at work. Although Gilbert’s little group of ships looked relatively modest in comparison to the vast fishing fleet, he prepared to implement the plan of conquest he had laid out in his treatise, A Discourse How Her Majesty May Meet with and Annoy the King of Spain. He “made ready” to fight any of the ships that might resist him. But confrontation turned out to be unnecessary. The captains of the English fishing fleet came aboard Gilbert’s ships, and when he presented them with his commission from Elizabeth they agreed to support him.
Gilbert went ashore and read his commission aloud to the fishermen. He declared that he thereby “took possession” of St. John’s Harbor and all lands within two hundred leagues of it, in every direction, in the name of the queen. He further explained that the fishermen would henceforward be governed by three new laws. First, all “public exercise” of religion had to conform with the practices of the Church of England; second, anyone who acted against Elizabeth’s right of possession would be prosecuted as if it were a case of high treason; and third, any person uttering words “to the dishonor of her Majesty” would have his ears cut off, his ship seized, and his goods confiscated. Gilbert then laid out the new financial arrangement that would be enforced in Her Majesty’s territory. The fishermen would have to pay a tax for the right to fish along the Newfoundland coast. Also, they would have to pay rent on the plots of land they used for camping and processing fish—even though they had been occupying and using them free of charge for years.37
To complete the act of taking possession, Gilbert and his men erected “a pillar of wood,” engraved in lead with the English coat of arms, much as Drake had done four years earlier on the west coast of America. Now, with Gilbert’s claim of Newfoundland and Drake’s claim of Nova Albion, Elizabeth could claim sovereignty on both
sides of America.
Although Gilbert and Drake’s claims may seem spurious, they were consistent with the widely accepted rules of territorial ownership at the time. These derived from the work of Justinian, the sixth-century Byzantine emperor who vainly sought to restore the fragmented Roman empire to its former greatness. Justinian defined four ways in which one nation could claim sovereignty over another. The first was the physical occupation of land not already under the jurisdiction of another state. In this, Gilbert’s claim to Newfoundland could not be challenged. He had set foot on the territory and no one, no European at least, had prior claim to it. The second was a right of “prescription,” meaning that the claimant has held possession of the place for an extended period of time, even if it has not been occupied. Here again, Gilbert was within his rights if one accepted that Newfoundland had been discovered and claimed by John Cabot nearly a century earlier. The third way of achieving dominion was through the acquisition of a territory by means of a treaty with the current holder of the land. There was no such holder of Newfoundland that Gilbert knew of or might recognize as such. The fourth path to dominion was through “subjugation,” which meant that one nation could take land belonging to another state through conquest. Again, this did not apply to Gilbert’s claim to Newfoundland. He had encountered no resistance and conquered nothing.38
After laying claim to Newfoundland (and evidently taking no account of the rights or views of the native people of the place), Gilbert set about learning as much as possible about the region. Some of his men searched for commodities, others drew “plats” or maps of the harbors and roadsteads. One of the mineral men—a Saxon metallurgist—came across a piece of ore that looked as if it contained silver, and in the mountains they discovered what they thought could be traces of iron, lead, and copper.39
These were promising finds, and after a month in Newfoundland, Gilbert told Hayes that he was ready to sail home. However, he had a duty to his investors to explore farther south. Many of Gilbert’s crew, however, felt no such obligation. They did not mutiny, but some plotted to steal a ship and sail home, others hid in the woods hoping to gain passage aboard some other vessel, and some developed a sudden sickness. In the end, Gilbert agreed to leave the Swallow in Newfoundland to take on provisions and ferry the disaffected and diseased back to England.
Gilbert departed St. John’s on August 20 and headed south with three ships—the Delight, the Golden Hind, and his favorite, the Squirrel. Nine days later, they encountered a storm of “rain and thick mist.” The Delight ran aground, broke apart, and the crew was cast overboard, though some were able to clamber aboard their pinnace. They eventually made their way back to Newfoundland, keeping themselves alive thanks to “no better sustenance then their own urine.”40
Disheartened by the loss of the Delight and with winter coming on, Gilbert and Hayes decided to return to England. Although Gilbert had not identified a suitable location for his colony, he remained optimistic that one could eventually be found. He even expressed confidence to Hayes that Elizabeth would loan him £10,000 for a voyage the following year and he would be able to carry out his grand plan. Although he had lost all his documents, much to his distress, he knew he would be able to draw on Hayes’s written account when preparing a new petition.
But Gilbert did not get the chance. On September 9, the ships ran into another storm. The Squirrel, overloaded with equipment, was top-heavy and unstable.41 Gilbert’s officers entreated him to come aboard the Golden Hind, but he refused. As the little vessel churned alongside the Golden Hind, Hayes saw Gilbert sitting on deck reading a book, which some have suggested was Sir Thomas More’s Utopia. Gilbert called out to Hayes, “We are as near to heaven by sea as by land!”—perhaps paraphrasing More’s comment that the “way to heaven out of all places is of like length and distance.” That night, the lights on the Squirrel flickered out and the ship and its commander were “devoured and swallowed up of the Sea,” never to be seen again.42
“The first great English pioneer of the West,” observed Sir Winston Churchill in his history of the English-speaking peoples, “had gone to his death.”43
12
WESTERN PLANTING
WITH GILBERT LOST, what would become of his patent?
The sorry news of Sir Humphrey’s demise catalyzed a flurry of activity. George Peckham expressed his desire to claim the land that Gilbert had granted to his father and enlisted some big names to support him—Frobisher, Hawkins, and Drake. But his venture went nowhere.1 Then Christopher Carleill, grandson of Sir George Barne and stepson of Walsingham, put out his own tract arguing for the development of “the hithermost parts of America.” The land, he said, was “bigger than all Europe,” and since “the larger part [bent] Northward,” the local people “shall have wonderful great use of our said English Clothes.” At first, leading merchants of the Muscovy Company, which had fallen on lean times, showed some interest. But they would only invest on one condition: he had to secure letters patent from the queen.2
As was her wont, Elizabeth took her time to reach a decision. When, in March 1584, she finally issued new letters patent, they did not go to Peckham, Carleill, or the Muscovy Company. Instead, they went to Sir Humphrey’s half-brother and Elizabeth’s new favorite at court, Walter Ralegh. Seventeen years younger than Gilbert, he was now presented with a thrilling, if daunting, opportunity: to take up his brother’s unfulfilled quest to establish an English presence in America. It caused envy at court, the latest evidence that Elizabeth was besotted with the dashing soldier.
Ralegh had first come to prominence in Ireland four years earlier, distinguishing himself with a mix of valor and violence while serving in an English force sent to quell a Spanish-backed uprising in the rebellious kingdom. Afterward, he was sent to court, where he offered himself as an adviser on Irish affairs. Within a few months, he famously caught the queen’s eye with a memorable display of chivalry. As a later chronicler recounted it, the queen was out walking one day when she came to a “plashy,” puddly place. She hesitated and Ralegh made his move. He lay “his plush new coat on the ground, whereon the queen trod gently.” She rewarded him with “many suits” as recompense for his “free and seasonable tender of so fair a footcloth.”3
It was said Elizabeth came to love Ralegh “in preference to all others.”4 He was just the kind of “proper” man she most admired. Bursting with energy, beautiful in his “white satin doublet, all embroidered with rich pearls,” he was adored by the ladies of the court. Ralegh, too, “loved a wench well,” noted the antiquarian John Aubrey. The young courtier, he wrote, had once squired a queen’s maid “up against a tree in a wood.”
Elizabeth came to rely on Ralegh “as a kind of oracle.”5 Clever and bookish, he was “an indefatigable reader, whether by sea or land.” He “carried always a trunk of books along with him.”6 Like Gilbert, Ralegh had attended Oxford, studying at Oriel College. He went on to the Middle Temple, where he picked up a smattering of law and where he almost certainly came into contact with Richard Hakluyt, the elder.
The queen showered Ralegh with gifts, patents, and benefits. When his military commission had come to an end in 1583—which brought him an annual salary of at least six hundred pounds—Elizabeth granted Ralegh the leases of two fine estates owned by All Souls College Oxford, which he traded for ready money.7 He was awarded not only a patent to license vintners and sell wine but also a license to export undyed woolen broadcloth, giving him a lucrative slice of England’s most important industry. These were generous perquisites that became the bedrock of his wealth.
As icing for this very rich cake, Elizabeth granted Ralegh a grand residence—Durham House—situated on the north bank of the Thames and distinguished by castellated walls, turrets, a water gate onto the river, and a pleasant orchard. Built in the thirteenth century, it became the London residence of the bishops of Durham before being seized by Henry VIII in the 1530s during his assault on the church. By the early 1550s, it had been handed to John D
udley, who no doubt discussed the business of the Mysterie while he lived there.8
At Durham House, Ralegh established a kind of corporate headquarters where, as Aubrey reported, his study, “a little turret,” looked over the Thames, providing a “prospect which is pleasant perhaps as any in the world, and which not only refreshes the eyesight but cheers the spirits” but also “enlarges an ingenious man’s thoughts.”9
Ralegh, following the model set by his half-brother, brought together a number of expert advisers to help him plan a colonial venture. Among them was Thomas Harriot, a twenty-three-year-old mathematician and cosmographer in the John Dee mold. Although humbly born, Harriot had been well educated at St. Mary’s Hall, an Oxford institution later affiliated to Oriel, Ralegh’s alma mater.10 Ralegh engaged the young scholar toward the end of 1583, even before he received the letters patent, and installed him in rooms at Durham House adjacent to his own.
Like Dee before him, Harriot was hired to prepare three men that Ralegh had recruited to lead the first mission of his grand venture, a reconnaissance voyage to America: Philip Amadas, a nineteen-year-old from solid Devon gentry stock; Arthur Barlowe, a seasoned sea captain; and Simão Fernandes, the skilled Azores-born pilot and shipmaster who had sailed with Gilbert on his first voyage. Harriot prepared a navigational manual (now lost) called Arciton, and he conducted classes in cosmography and other new sciences.