by Giles Milton
Although the return of Middleton's ship was a cause for great joy, the directors of the East India Company were concerned that their licence would be rescinded by King James I. Courtiers and rival merchants were constantly petitioning the King for their own trading licences arguing, like Edward Michelborne, that one company should not be allowed a total monopoly on trade. Queen Elizabeth I's licence had been for fifteen years and would soon expire. Sir Thomas Smythe, aware of the pressure that certain courtiers were placing on the King, decided that to exclude nobles from their enterprise was no longer advisable. Rallying King James's favourites to his cause, he now petitioned the King for a renewal of the Company's privileges, explaining the absolute necessity of retaining a monopoly on trade with the Indies. King James at length accepted their arguments, agreed to their demands and, instead of limiting his licence to a further fifteen years, he now granted them 'the whole, entire and only trade and traffic to the East Indies . . . forever'. There was just one proviso: if the trade 'should not prove profitable to the realm' the licence could be withdrawn, although even in this extreme situation the King would have to give the merchants three years notice.
Smythe and his directors were overjoyed at this extension of their privileges for it instilled a new-found confidence — and increased investment — in the spice trade. But the nobility, who had played such an important role in convincing the King to grant that extension, were not among those who would pour their money into future voyages. Reticent to sully their hands with trade, they preferred instead to be linked by association to this most fashionable of enterprises. It became de rigueur to be a freeman of the East India Company, a title which involved the participant swearing an absurd and solemn oath forbidding him from revealing 'the secrets and privities of the said Company, which shall be given you in charge by the Governor or his deputie to conceale'. It was a stroke of brilliance on the part of the directors, for aristocrats were soon queuing up to become members of what they excitedly saw as a semi-secret society. Acceptance went quite to the heads of some: the Earl of Southampton was so overjoyed when he heard he had been made a freeman that he sent a brace of bucks to the directors 'to make merry withal in regard to their kindness in accepting him of their Company'. The quick-thinking directors prompdy formed a Venison Committee whose sole function was to provide the finest game for banquets at Sir Thomas Smythe's house.
With the King's signature safely on the charter the time was ripe for a new expedition. The Company beadle was sent around London to collect subscriptions and, on his return, it was found he had raised no less than £82,000. With such a vast sum at their disposal, the directors decided to build their own vessel rather than relying upon the inferior ships of previous voyages. At 1,100 tons this new ship was a veritable leviathan, more than double the size of the standard East Indiaman and not exceeded in tonnage until the era of steam. Such a ship could only be launched by the King and so, on 30 December 1609, James I, accompanied by the Queen and Prince Henry, travelled to Deptford for a right royal celebration. The ship was aptly named the Trades Increase and was to be accompanied by two smaller vessels — the Peppercorn and the Darling. The launch was followed by a triumphal banquet served on priceless China-ware and, as desserts were served, the King called Sir Thomas Smythe to his side and slipped 'a greate chaine of golde and a medal about his necke with his own hands'.
This marked the start of a constant flow of gifts between the King and the Company and when the sixth fleet finally set sail it was given instructions to 'carefully keep and reserve for his majesty and the lords all such rare fowles, beasts or other thing as are by you or any of your company brought from those parts'. Mindful, perhaps, of the problems caused by the morose Coree, all three captains studiously ignored these instructions.
The fleet was scheduled to depart London in the spring of 1610 and a rigid timetable was imposed on all involved to ensure it would leave on time. By November the Company was interviewing potential factors and crew, and it is in the list of these new recruits that the name of Nathaniel Courthope first appears. Nothing is known of Courthope's life prior to his joining the East India Company. It is quite possible that he had worked as a trader in London and, like so many of his fellow factors, was lured eastwards by the hope of making his fortune. He certainly made an impression on the sober-minded directors for on 13 November 1609, just five days after petitioning for employment, he was told that his application had been successful. Several of his fellow factors were hired on that same day: 'Benjamin Greene who speaks Spanish, French and Italian [and] Rowland Webb who speaks French and Spanish'. Of Courthope we are told only that the Company 'has an agreement with Nathaniel Courthope for seven years'; two years longer than the other men hired. These extra years were to prove highly significant and would, because of Courthope's bravery, mark a turning point in the history of the Spice Islands.
The fleet sailed in April 1610 under the command of the experienced Sir Henry Middleton with the equally skilful Nicholas Downton in charge of the Darling. The governors decided that the two men should head for the Banda Islands and cement the friendship with the native traders. Middleton was also instructed to exploit the anti- Dutch feeling by 'presenting such gifts to the Governor [of Banda] as in your discretion shall seem fitting; and there provide three hundred tons of nutmeg of the best and soundest that may be gotten, freed from dust and rumps ... also twenty tons of mace, the largest and brightest that may be gotten, but none that is dark coloured red maces, which are feminine maces and here little worth'. Having secured his cargo, he was told to leave a large number of factors on the islands — including Nathaniel Courthope — to prepare for the arrival of future fleets.
Sir Henry was also requested to stop at numerous ports en route, not to buy spices but to continue the search for markets for England's 'wollen comodities' in order that 'we may be able to drive a trade without the transportation of money which is the cheefe scope of our desires.' It was this desire that led Sir Henry, after a tiresome journey around the Cape, to nudge his fleet towards the parched port of Aden on the south-western tip of the Arabian Peninsula.
'Wednesday at sun-setting,' wrote Nicholas Downton in his diary, 'on the sudden we descried Aden, which is situated under the foot of an unfruitful mountain, a place I should scarce have looked for a town, but it is set there for strength, where it is very defencible, and not by any enemy easily to be won. 'The castle reminded him 'of the Tower of London, which is not by enemies to be in haste ascended'.
Middleton, too, was impressed by Aden's fortifications but was more concerned about the welcome he would receive. This corner of Arabia was under the nominal rule of the Ottoman Sultan, but most of the towns lay in the hands of unscrupulous local governors, whilst the mountainous interior had been carved into private fiefdoms by warring Arab tribesmen. Stopping a local craft, Middleton asked the Arabs on board whether the local Pasha was a good man. Their reply was ominous indeed. The last Pasha was 'very bad', the present was only 'a little better', and the Turks in general were 'stark naught'. Middleton's mind was made up; instructing Downton to anchor the Darling off the coast of Aden, he decided to sail to the Red Sea port of Mocha and try his chances there.
It was a decision he would soon come to regret for as he edged the Trades Increase towards the town's harbour the enormous ship stuck fast on a sand bank and could not be moved. This put Middleton in a quandary; the only possibility of refloating her was to unload everything on board, but to land goods without an on-shore factory ran contrary to Company policy. Fortunately the local governor, a renegade Greek named Rejib Aga, was most obliging. When Middleton sent a message explaining that he was an English merchant in need of assistance he received answer that 'if we were Englishmen we were heartily welcome, and should not fail of that we look for.'
There was more good news to follow: Laurence Femell, the expedition's amply girthed chief factor, had struggled ashore in a rowing boat and managed to strike a beneficial trading deal with the governor. To ce
lebrate this deal Rejib Aga invited Middleton to an extravagant banquet at which he heaped honour after honour upon the English commander, which an increasingly embarrassed Middleton felt obliged to accept. After being assured of 'good and peaceable trade', Sir Henry might have hoped that this exaggerated display of Oriental politesse was drawing to a close. In fact Rejib Aga had scarcely begun. After offering a waterfront house for the English to use as a base, 'he caused me to stand up, and one of his chiefe men put upon my backe a vest of crimson silke and silver, saying, I needed not to doubt of any evill; for that was the Grand Seignor's protection. After some few complements I took my leave: I was mounted upon a gallant horse with rich furniture, a great man leading my horse; and so in my new coate with the musicke of the towne, conveyed to the English house.'
The next few days passed most pleasantly. The Aga sent daily messages to Middleton 'willing me to be merry' and promising that as soon as Ramadan had come to an end the two men would ride together in his private pleasure gardens. Middleton's initial scepticism as to the Aga's sincerity evaporated with these sugar-coated pleasantries and — foolishly — he took the Aga's words at face value.
On 28 October 1610, he rowed ashore in order to stretch his legs and stroll around the town. It was a glorious evening; the sky had been cloudless all day and Middleton proceeded to the English house in order to watch the desert sun sink slowly into the Red Sea. 'The sunne being set I caused stooles to be set at the doore where my selfe, Master Femell and Master Pemberton sat to take the fresh aire, suspecting nothing of the present ensuing harm that did befalle us.' At eight o'clock a messenger arrived from the governor but because none of the Englishmen present spoke Arabic he was sent away. Soon after he returned with an interpreter who informed Middleton that Rejib Aga's message was simply that the English should make themselves merry. Taking the governor at his word Middleton uncorked a bottle of Madeira and handed it around to his friends, but they had scarcely had time to toast each other before there was a loud bang on the door: 'My man returnes in great feare telling us we were all betrayed: for that the Turkes and my people were by the eares at the backe of the house.' Middleton dashed inside to warn the crew of the danger and to urge them to fortify the house as quickly as possible:
But whiles I was thus speaking I was strooke upon the head downe to the ground by one which came
behind me. I remained as dead till such time as they had bound my hands behind me, and so straite that the extreame paine thereof brought me to my memorie. As soone as they saw me stirre they lifted me upon my feet, and led me betweene two of them to the Aga, where I found divers of my companie in like taking as I was my selfe. On the way the souldiers pillaged me and tooke from me such money as I had about me, and three gold rings, whereof one was my seale, the other had seven diamonds which were of good worth, and the third a gimmall ring.
This was only the beginning of his misfortune. When all the Englishmen in the town had been captured, including Nathaniel Courthope, they were herded together and clapped in irons; 'my selfe with seven more were chained by the neckes all together: others by their feete, others by their hands.' When this was done, the soldiers left them in the company of two heavily armed guards who 'had compassion for us and eased us of our bands, for the most of us had our hands so straite bound behind us that the blood was readie to burst out at our fingers' end, with pain unsufferable'.
Middleton still had no idea why he had been attacked, but he was soon to learn the scale of the Aga's treachery. Not only had eight of his men been killed in the 'bloudie massacre' and fourteen severely injured, he now heard that a band of one hundred and fifty Turks had put to sea 'in three great boats' with the intention of taking the Darling - now anchored off Mocha — by force. The attack caught the Darling's crew completely unawares. Knowing nothing of the treachery ashore they first realised something was amiss when dozens of Turks were seen boarding the ship, their swords unsheathed. The situation quickly became desperate; three Englishmen were killed outright while the rest of the company rushed below deck to gather their weapons. By the time they had armed themselves the ship was almost lost. 'The Turkes were standing very thicke in the waist [of the ship], hollowing and clanging their swords upon the decke.' It was a quick-thinking crew member who saved the day. Realising their plight was helpless he gathered his strength and rolled a huge barrel of gunpowder towards the Turkish attackers, then hurled a firebrand in the same direction. The effect was as dramatic as it was devastating. A large number of Turks were killed instantly while the rest retired to the half-deck in order to regroup. This hesitation cost them their lives for the English had by now loaded their weapons which they 'set off with musket shot, and entertayned [the Turks] with another trayne of powder which put them in such feare that they leaped into the sea, hanging by the ship's side, desiring mercy, which was not there to be found, for that our men killed all they could fmde, and the rest were drowned, only one man was saved who hid himselfe till the furie was passed, who yielded and was received to mercie'.
The Darling had been saved but Middleton's situation was now even more precarious. Still chained by the neck he was led to the Aga to be told the reason for his arrest. 'He with a frowning (and not his wonted disembling) countenance, asked me how I durst be so bold as to come into this their port of Mocha, so near their holy citie of Mecca.' Middleton remonstrated most strongly, reminding the Aga that it was he who had invited the English to land and persistently invoked them to be merry. The Aga chose to ignore this last remark, telling him that the Pasha in Sana'a had been given orders from the Sultan in Constantinople to arrest all Christians who attempted to land at any of the Red Sea ports. He also told Sir Henry that the only way for him to gain his freedom was for him to send letters to the Trades Increase and Darling ordering them to capitulate. Middleton refused, and when the Aga told him he would starve the ships into submission the English commander gleefully informed Rejib that they had enough supplies to last two years. 'He urged me againe to write to will them to come all ashore and yeeld the ship or he would cut off my head. I bade him doe so; for therein he should doe me a great pleasure for I was weary of my life; but write to that effect I never would.'
This answer did not find favour with the Aga. 'I was taken out of my chaine and coller and a great paire of fetters clapt upon my legges, and manacles upon my hands, and so separated from the rest of my company: they stowed me all that day in a dirty dogges kennell under a paire of stairs . . . my lodging was upon the hard ground, and my pillow a stone, my companions to keepe me waking were griefe of heart and multitude of rats which, if I chanced to sleep, would awake me with running over me.'
Sir Henry would soon find himself longing for that 'dogges kennell'.The Aga instructed him to send a letter to the Trades Increase with the message that all the warm clothing on board should immediately be sent ashore. Middleton was perplexed and, asking the reason for such a strange request, was told that the Pasha in Sana'a wanted to interrogate the men and 'that we should find it very cold in the mountain country'. Middleton, sweltering in the heat of Mocha, scoffed at the Aga's talk of frost and snow and dismissed the request for woollen clothing. And so, on 'the two and twentieth of December, our irons were knockt off all our legges . . . and my selfe and foure and thirtie persons more of us were appointed to goe up for Sana'a, the chief citie of the kingdome where the Pasha is resident.'
One of the men, William Pemberton, managed to give his guards the slip and it was many hours before his absence was noticed. He eventually reached the Trades Increase by trekking back to the coast, stealing a canoe and putting to sea. With no food and nothing to drink except his own urine he rowed for several days through choppy waters until a look-out on the flagship spied him in the far distance and sent a pinnace to the rescue. His arrival was invaluable to Downton for it provided him with information about the guards and sentries travelling with Middleton and enabled him to carry on a regular, though clandestine, correspondence with the commander using secret envoys
and middlemen. Pemberton twice sent letters to Middleton urging him to plan an escape, suggesting that he could easily pass himself off as an Arab if he disguised himself in Oriental dress, cut the hair from his face, and took to 'besmutting' his skin. He added that he had fully intended to 'besmut' himself but decided that his 'pock- eated' face would have given him away.
The correspondence between Downton and Middleton at times betrays the great stress they were under. When Middleton refused permission for Downton to raid local craft on the grounds that his life would be placed in even graver danger, Downton wrote a strongly worded reply suggesting that he alone could judge what was best in the situation. Sir Henry was most upset at the petulance of his erstwhile friend and replied in what Downton described as 'a very carping and most distasteful letter'. But just as relations between the men seemed in danger of rupturing completely, Downton came to his senses and sent a note with the message that while he was hurt by the tone of Middleton's letter he would write no more angry words for their mutual enemies to 'cant, construe and cavil at'. In reply, Sir Henry wrote a 'very kind letter' asking forgiveness for his 'melancholie letter' which, he explained, was written while suffering from acute depression.
That depression was soon to get worse as the weather grew ever colder during the enforced march to Sana'a. Middleton now realised his mistake in refusing the woollen gowns, recording that 'I would not beleeve at Mocha, when I was told of the cold we should have upwards, and that made me go but thinly clothed my selfe.' With the little money he still possessed he now bought his men fur gowns, without which they would all have perished. Few can have expected to see a white Christmas in the blistering Arabian Peninsula but as the English prisoners stumbled into the city of Taiz on Christmas Day 1610, the first few flakes of snow began to fall. William Pemberton's 'boy', who had failed to escape with his master, fell sick from cold and was lodged in the governor's house; the rest continued up into the mountains where 'every morning the ground was covered with horie frost, and ... we had ice a finger thick.'
