by Derek Wilson
Davis later denied the charge of desertion. He claimed that it was the flagship which altered course during the night and that he had spent several weeks searching for his leader. But Cavendish’s surmise was certainly correct: the two lost ships did put into Port Desire and they did subsequently make three attempts to sail through the Straits. The temptation for Davis must have been considerable. By slipping into a shallow harbour where the Galleon Leicester could not follow he might rid himself of a commander who was no longer making rational decisions. We shall never know the truth. What is clear is that Cavendish made no attempt to find his errant vessels, but sailed resolutely on for Brazil.
Events rapidly moved from bad to worse. Raiding along the Brazilian coast brought some provisions but Cavendish lost several men. The Roebuck was severely mauled by storms. The crews, now totally demoralised, were anxious to return home while their ships were still intact. Their leader treated them with contempt. He secretly resolved to transfer men, food and gear from the Roebuck to his own ship, burn the consort and then sail once more for the Straits. It was a desperate stratagem and the men, to whom Cavendish must by now have become transparent, would have none of it:
they forthwith openly began to murmur and mutiny, affirming plainly that . . . they would go home.15
Cavendish called the company together and bludgeoned them with his tongue. They should not, he ranted, give way to cowardice and:
go about to undertake any base or disordered course but . . . cheerfully go forward to attempt either to make themselves famous in resolutely dying, or in living to performe that which [would] be to their perpetual reputations.16
This ‘death or glory’ speech did not impress Cavendish’s exhausted men:
. . . forthwith they all with one consent affirmed plainly they would never go that way again, and that they would all rather stay ashore in that desert island than in such case to go for the straits.17
At that Cavendish lost his temper:
. . . one of the chiefest of their faction most proudly and stubbornly uttered these words to my face in presence of all the rest, which I, seeing took this bold companion by the bosom and with my own hands put a rope about his neck meaning resolutely to strangle him, for weapon about me I had none.18
It is not surprising that the Roebuck’s crew took the first opportunity to desert.
Cavendish was now obsessed with thoughts of failure and death. He told his men on one occasion that if they refused to sail for the Straits, ‘I was determined that ship and all should sink in the seas together.’19 From this point he ceased to exercise any effective leadership. The mariners ignored his rantings. The ship steered a zig-zag course across the Atlantic, missed a projected landfall on St Helena, and then made for England. Cavendish, utterly broken, spent most of the time in his cabin, composing a vindication of his actions, writing his will and contemplating suicide:
. . . amongst such hellhounds my spirit was clean spent, wishing myself upon any desert place in the world, there to die, rather than thus basely to return home again, which course I had put in execution, had I found an island which the charts make to be in 8 degrees to the southwards of the line, I swear to you I sought it well with diligence, meaning, if I had found it, to have there ended my unfortunate life.20
Did he, eventually, commit suicide or did he die simply of a lack of desire to remain alive? We shall never know. Somewhere out in the Atlantic his body was consigned to the ocean that had, in the end, defeated him.
4
THE FIRST TRAVELOGUE
The world, or rather the European conception of it, was changing. By 1600, geographers had a roughly accurate knowledge of the principal landmasses of Asia, Africa and the Americas, although the Pacific and any islands and continents it might contain were still mysteries, and existing charts underestimated the ocean’s width. Merchants appreciated the commercial potential of India, China and the Spice Islands and were ready to believe that as yet undiscovered lands might abound in mineral and vegetable wealth. Thus, despite the appalling experiences recorded by long-distance mariners, there was plenty of incentive for ocean voyages to the Orient, using either the eastern or western route.
Political changes also added a spur to voyages of exploration. In the year that Drake returned triumphantly from his circumnavigation, the crowns of Spain and Portugal were united. The overseas interests of these once-rival nations were thus merged into the first truly worldwide empire. With the wealth of both East and West flowing into Philip II’s coffers, he seemed secure and invincible. But this was an illusion. The administrative strains placed upon his government by ruling far-flung colonies as well as the Habsburg dominions in Europe were intolerable. Also, the very extent of his power and the fact that it was used to reinforce and propagate an inflexible Catholicism obliged other nations to challenge the monumental authority of Spain. Predominantly it was the Dutch and the English who sallied forth as champions of Protestantism and it was these nations which also took over as leaders of maritime enterprise for the next two hundred years. In 1588 Philip’s attempt to cower England with his great Armada was frustrated. The following year saw Spain’s final failure to crush the Dutch Republic, which had been wrested from the northern part of the Spanish Netherlands. The conflict continued for a further twenty years but the territory ruled by the States General maintained its independence and even carried the war to the enemy. More than that; there flourished for a few decades in the United Provinces a civilisation rivalled for brilliance only by that of Renaissance Italy. Antwerp became the commercial centre of Europe and its rich burghers patronised artistic geniuses such as Rubens, Van Dyck and Rembrandt. This atmosphere of excited liberty allowed outstanding statesmen and scientists to develop their ideas. It encouraged merchants to conceive and execute bold trading ventures. It was this tiny land, thrust into an aggressive nationhood, which now rapidly developed a breed of truly remarkable seafarers.
In the command of the sea and in the conduct of the war on the water resides the entire prosperity of the country.1
Thus was the strategic position analysed by the Dutch authorities in 1596. Soon they were despatching from their harbours mercantile fleets to challenge the Habsburg monopoly of the Orient trade. Rivalry in the East took on a new professionalism with the formation of mercantile companies. On 31 December 1600 Elizabeth of England granted a charter to ‘the governor and company of merchants trading into the East Indies’. The United Provinces were not slow to follow suit; the United Dutch East India Company was founded in 1602. France, Scotland, Spain, Denmark, Sweden and Austria soon emulated the pioneers. Nor were merchant vessels the only ships leaving Dutch ports. Privateers sailed forth armed with letters of marque to harass Spanish shipping – and explorers began probing new routes to the markets of the East. Between 1598 and 1623 no fewer than five circumnavigation voyages were launched from Dutch ports; as many as had sailed in the whole seventy-nine years which had elapsed since Magellan’s embarkation.
Two expeditions set out in 1598. That of Sebold Van Weert failed and it was that of Oliver Van Noort which gained the accolade as the first Dutch circumnavigation. In July he left Rotterdam with four ships, the Maurice, Concord, Hope and Henry Frederike. Like earlier captains, Van Noort aimed to establish a firm commercial base for trade with the Moluccas. Although he did get home again with a cargo of cloves it was only after experiencing the same difficulties which had beset his predecessors. A year after setting out the convoy was still in the Atlantic, having been delayed by bad weather and a clash with the Portuguese. Inevitably, men and ships were beginning to feel the strain. Several of the crew had already died of fever and scurvy before Van Noort made a landfall on the southern coast of Brazil. The vegetation was sparse but what there was the sailors made good use of:
. . . we found little but herbs and two trees of sour plums, which cured the sick in fifteen days.
The Dutch were the first to make a serious study of scurvy* and its possible remedies, although it was a Spanish monk, Anton
io de la Ascension who wrote the first clear description of the disease and its symptoms, in 1602:
The first symptom they notice is a pain in the whole body which makes it so sensitive to touch . . . After this, all the body, especially from the waist down, becomes covered with purple spots larger than great mustard seeds. Then from this bad humour some strips or bands come behind the knee joints, two fingers and more wide like wales [weals] . . . These become as hard as stones, and the legs and the thighs become so straight and stiff with them that they cannot be extended or drawn up a degree more than the state in which they were when attacked . . . The sensitiveness of the bodies of these sick people is so great that . . . the best aid which can be rendered them is not even to touch the bedclothes . . . the upper and lower gums of the mouth in the inside of the mouth and outside the teeth, become swollen to such a size that neither the teeth nor the molars can be brought together. The teeth become so loose and without support that they move while moving the head . . . With this they cannot eat anything but food in liquid form or drinks, . . . they come to be so weakened in this condition that their natural vigour fails them, and they die all of a sudden, while talking.2
Recommended ‘cures’ ranged from dilute sulphuric acid and mercury to giving up smoking. But the Dutch East India captains were great believers in the efficacy of fresh fruit and vegetables. Thanks to their reports, the Company ordered gardens to be established by their factors at regular ports of call. They even experimented with miniature kitchen gardens aboard their ships but wind and wave soon put an end to such horticultural ambitions. However, the comparative success of the Dutch in warding off the worst ravages of scurvy seems to have made little impact on the policies of other maritime nations and no systematic medical research was done until the mid-eighteenth century. Thus it was almost two hundred years before it was realised that the anti-scorbutic element was most plentifully supplied by citrus fruits and certain vegetables such as onions and sauerkraut.
It was 4 November 1599 before the ships reached Cape Virgins and then the currents and violent, changeable winds prevented them entering the straits for three weeks. On his way through to the South Sea Van Noort met the remnants of Van Weert’s expedition, limping home, having failed to battle their way through the straits against contrary winds. Van Noort pressed on but it took him ten weeks to reach the Pacific. Privation, the sight of their homeward bound countrymen, the loss of thirty-five of their number in a skirmish with some Patagonians, the monotonous burials of the victims of disease, and the forlorn spectacle of that barren coast had a devastating effect on morale. During the passage, the vice admiral tried to persuade Van Noort to turn back. When argument failed, he put himself at the head of all the malcontents and tried to force his superior’s hand. He paid a terrible price for his unsuccessful mutiny; he was marooned on that desolate shore. Van Noort had that strain of brutality that both Drake and Magellan had possessed and which was essential to success on these early voyages.
By February 1600, when he began to work his way up the South American coast, he had already lost one of his ships and half his men. In May he picked up the trade winds and crossed the Pacific. He touched at the Marianas and the Philippines and, six months later, reached Ternate. But his difficulties were far from over. He eventually reached Amsterdam on 26 August 1601 with one ship and a very depleted company.
Thirteen years passed before the next serious attempt was made. It was planned as a privateering-cum-commercial venture in the style of Drake and Cavendish. George Spielbergen, a German in the pay of the Dutch government, left the Texel on 8 August 1614 with six ships. Two had been lost by the time he reached Patagonia but he successfully negotiated the straits and spent several months raiding along the coast of Peru and Mexico before he braved the Pacific crossing. Although he reached home on 1 July 1617 with only two vessels the profits from looting and a cargo of spices more than made up for his losses.
But the most important of these early Dutch voyages was the one which began ten months after Spielbergen’s. Ironically it was an attempt by Dutchmen to escape restrictions imposed, not by Spaniards or Portuguese, but by other Dutchmen. Having broken the Hispano-Portuguese stranglehold on the Orient trade, the East India Company became just as jealously monopolistic as the merchants they had displaced. They proclaimed that the passage of Magellan’s Straits and the Cape of Good Hope was open only to members of the company. Thus, when the enterprising, independent merchant Isaac Lemaire of Antwerp wanted to set forth on an Orient venture he had to think in terms of finding another route to the rich eastern markets. To lead the expedition he chose an experienced sailor who had made three voyages to the Indies, William Cornelius Schouten Van Hoorn. Together the two men organised a carefully planned venture. Isaac’s son, Jacob Lemaire, travelled as supercargo with Schouten in the 360-ton Eendracht and Schouten’s brother John commanded the support vessel Hoore (110 tons).
They left the Texel on 14 June 1615 and touched at the Cape Verde Islands and the coast of Sierra Leone. Interestingly, Schouten took on board 750 ripe lemons there, which he had dried and added to the regular diet of his eighty-seven crew members, as long as they lasted. In this way he avoided scurvy almost completely throughout most of the voyage. One wonders why this lesson was lost on contemporary mariners and why captains experimented over many decades with a variety of foodstuffs such as decoctions of malt and meat extracts, most of which were not as efficacious as the simple lemon. Schouten made straight for Port Desire and there put his ships in order for the next crucial stage of the voyage. For the plan was to find a way into the South Sea, around Tierra del Fuego. Drake had been blown far to the south and found open sea. It was possible, therefore, that South America was not joined onto some southern continent. But even if that were the case, could men and ships survive the storms, fogs and bitter cold of that ice-strewn stretch of water? Certainly, the vessels would have to be in the best possible trim before attempting this ascent to the high south latitude. But even the most carefully-laid plans can come unstuck. While the ships were being careened at Port Desire a few moments’ carelessness almost ruined the entire expedition. Some sailors, burning accretions from the Hoore’s bottom, accidentally set fire to the ship. Despite the efforts of the entire company she was soon ablaze from stem to stern. Fortunately, most of her stores had been unloaded but her loss was, nevertheless, a severe blow.
The Eendracht was under way again early in January 1616 and, on the 24th in 55°50′S the lookout sighted what appeared to be a channel between Tierra del Fuego and another landmass which Schouten presumed to be the Antarctic continent (in reality it is a large island). Schouten sailed through and named the passage Lemaire (modern spelling Le Maire) Strait. The land to the south he called Staten Land, after the States General. He continued south-west in fair weather until 29 January, a historic day. For it was on that Monday that the Eendracht encountered ‘a high, hilly land, covered over with snow, ending with a sharp point, which we called Cape Hoorn’.3 What the Dutchmen had sighted was the Elizabethides discovered by Drake but fog prevented them discerning that they were islands. Thus Cape Hoorn was named after Schouten’s home town and marked on the chart as the southern point of Tierra del Fuego. Later generations would change the spelling to ‘Horn’ and assume that that title derived from the appearance of the granite pinnacle – sic transit gloria mundi. Onward the Eendracht sailed, through open, easy seas, until, on 12 February, Schouten calculated that he could steer a northerly course. It was one of the most important moments in the history of circumnavigation. From then onwards the significance of Magellan’s discovery would gradually dwindle. Passage through the straits could be slow and difficult. Doubling the Horn could be hazardous but, if undertaken at the right time of year, it was faster. More and more bold captains and stout ships would attempt it. Schouten realised, at least in part, how valuable his discovery was. No wonder he and his men celebrated with cheers and an extra ration of wine.
The expedition continued to be
well favoured. The Eendracht made a good crossing of the Pacific and took on a rich cargo of spices in the Moluccas. Schouten lost only three men during the whole voyage. All went well until he reached the East India Company’s factory at Bantam on the coast of Java. There, the governor, Jan Pieterzoon Coen, was outraged at the appearance of ‘interlopers’. He refused to believe the ‘cock and bull’ story of a new route to the East, confiscated the Eendracht and her cargo, and sent Schouten and his men back to Europe under escort. They arrived on 7 July 1617 and became the fastest men to have circled the globe. It was not the kind of homecoming Isaac Lemaire had hoped for. It faced him with a long, but ultimately successful, legal battle for the restitution of his ship and cargo. Also Schouten brought him the sad news that among the voyage’s few fatalities was his son, who had died at Mauritius.
Of the captains who followed Schouten round the Horn in the next few years the most notable was the unfortunate James l’Hermite. In 1623 he led a fleet of eleven ships bent on nothing less than the conquest of Peru. By the time he had reached the Pacific his convoy was already greatly depleted. He had to content himself with raiding Spanish coastal settlements and then making for home via the Dutch factories in the East Indies. Scurvy took a heavy toll of his crew and l’Hermite, himself, died off Java. Only one ship straggled back to the Texel in July 1626.
Now that two clear pathways had been found linking the Atlantic and the Pacific, the number of the mariners who made the round-the-world journey increased. Many of these ventures have left no records. Even if this were not so, it would be tedious to narrate every voyage. What is fascinating from this point onwards is to see what kind of men risked their lives in such a hazardous enterprise and what motivated them to do so. Some were merchants. Some were explorers. Some were pirates. Some were adventurers. And a few do not fit neatly into any of those categories.
