of Cape Verde, and a month later that of the Azores. On May 14, 1556,
both his vessels dropped anchor at Bristol after a most prosperous
voyage. Apparently not one man died in either crew. He does not give the
total amount of the treasure secured, but a reckoning up of the various
daily takings mentioned shows a total of about fifty tusks and 130 lb.
of gold. Considering the small size of the two ships employed, and
consequently of the general working expenses, this must have yielded an
excellent return on the outlay.

The successful return of the _Hart_ and the _Hind_ was the signal for
renewed preparations for further Guinea adventures, and for a fresh
outburst of activity on the part of the Council, ostensibly intended to
frustrate the same. On July 7, 1556, orders were sent to all customers,
&c., not to permit any one to ship goods for ‘Mina, Guynye, Bynney or
any other place thereabouts within the King of Portingales dominions’;
and on the 28th the command was repeated with instructions for warning
to be given to all merchants. Again on August 8 the Council addressed a
letter to Anthony Hussey, Governor of the Merchant Adventurers in the
Low Countries, to the effect that they had heard that Miles Mordeyne, a
London merchant, had prepared a cargo in Flanders to be sent to Bristol
and thence to Guinea. Hussey was to make search for the wares and
sequester them until further orders, sending particulars as to their
condition and value. On the same date they also sent word to the Mayor
and Customers of Bristol to arrest and unload two ships which certain
merchants contemplated setting forth for Guinea. The cargoes had been
secretly conveyed to the Welsh coast to be loaded. Miles Mordeyne, who
was apparently at Bristol, was to be sent before the Council. On
September 22 Giles White and Thomas Chester were held to bail in £500 as
a guarantee of their appearance when called upon in the matter of
sending two ships from Bristol to Guinea.[284]

These measures give the impression that the Council was actually in
earnest; but the fact remains that, in spite of them, Towerson and
others were able to sail once more for Guinea in this same autumn. If
there had been any genuine desire to put a stop to these enterprises
nothing would have been easier than to imprison the adventurers on their
return and to confiscate their spoils. The fact that this was never done
leads to the conclusion that the Council was merely making a show of
zeal to deprecate Philip’s anger.

Towerson, on his second expedition,[285] had to use more precaution than
formerly in order to get safely away. The _Tiger_, of 120 tons, his
principal ship, was equipped at Harwich, and sailed from thence to
Scilly on September 14, 1556. At Scilly he was to meet the _Hart_ and a
pinnace of 16 tons which had been prepared at Bristol. These may have
been the two vessels which the Council professed itself so anxious to
arrest. The _Hart_ and the pinnace failed to appear at the rendezvous,
at which the _Tiger_ arrived on the 28th. After waiting for some time
Towerson in the _Tiger_ put back to Plymouth, being joined there by his
consorts shortly before the middle of November, and on the 15th of that
month the whole squadron set sail for Africa nearly two months after the
intended time of departure. The nature of the intrigue which finally set
them at liberty can only be imagined, as no clue has survived, but it is
difficult to suppose that they departed otherwise than with the
knowledge and connivance of the Council.

As was usual, a fairly quick outward passage was made, the Guinea coast
being sighted on December 30. The inaccuracy of the prevailing methods
of calculating longitude is illustrated by the fact that the River of
Sestos, the intended landfall, was overshot by some 150 miles. Shortly
after reaching the coast the sails of three ships and two pinnaces were
seen to windward. The English prepared for action, manœuvred to recover
the wind, and then gave chase. The strangers likewise cleared for action
and, when ready, offered battle ‘very finely appointed with their
streamers and pendants and ensigns, and the noise of trumpets very
bravely’. When within hailing distance, however, it was discovered that
the opposing fleet was manned, not by Portuguese, but by Frenchmen,
bound upon the same errand as the English; and, instead of fighting, an
alliance was struck up, both sides agreeing to trade without cutting
prices and to support each other against the Portuguese. The French
ships were from Havre, Rouen, and Honfleur, under the chief command of
Denis Blondel. He informed Towerson that they had been six weeks upon
the Grain Coast with very little result, apparently fearing to push on
to the Gold Coast on account of reports of a Portuguese armed fleet at
Mina. They had fallen upon a single Portuguese vessel of 200 tons in the
River of Sestos, and had burned her, only three or four of the crew
being saved. Blondel seemed extremely glad of the presence of the
English, and offered to share his victuals with them and act under their
orders in all things.

For the first fortnight of January 1557 they all proceeded slowly along
the Ivory Coast, arriving at Cape Tres Puntas on the 14th. A small
quantity of ivory was picked up on the way, but for the most part the
negroes were shy of trading. At one point they attempted elephant
hunting on their own account, without success. Their methods certainly
read as if they were designed rather for the assault of a city than of
an elephant: thirty men were landed, ‘all well armed with harquebusses,
pikes, long-bows, cross-bows, partizans, long swords, and swords and
bucklers: we found two elephants, which we stroke divers times with
harquebusses and long-bows, but they went away from us and hurt one of
our men’.

At a native town where they were well received the negroes told them
that they had witnessed a fight of two ships against one a month before;
and further on they received definite intelligence of the presence of
another English ship on the coast, which had brought back one of the
negroes kidnapped by Robert Gainsh two years previously. The Frenchmen
also asserted that they knew of five other French vessels making the
same voyage.

The combined squadrons were now past Cape Tres Puntas and doing daily
business with the inhabitants of the Gold Coast, who seem at this time
to have been in a state of hostility towards the Portuguese. On January
25, while they were anchored off Samma with most of the ships’ boats and
merchants ashore, five Portuguese ships suddenly appeared. Guns were
fired, the crews hastily embarked, and anchors were weighed; but by this
time night had fallen and nothing could be done but prepare for action
on the following day. In the morning it was seen that the Portuguese had
anchored near the shore; the English and French did likewise, ‘within
demiculverin shot of them’. It was not for them, in their rôle of
peaceful traders, to commence hostilities, but the challenge was
sufficiently obvious. Night again came on without further developments
taking place.

Next day both sides made sail, but the allies gained the wind of the
Portuguese and gradually bored them in towards the shore until they were
forced to tack and make for them. The allies tacked also and stood out
to sea ahead of the enemy; then, when they had sufficient room to fight,
they took in their topsails and waited. The Portuguese came up one by
one, the first being a small bark well armed and very fast, which
exchanged broadsides and then passed on ahead. Next came a caravel,
which did some damage to the French admiral’s ship. After her came the
Portuguese admiral in a large ship, whose fire was ineffective owing to
the guns being carried too high, followed by two caravels more. Towerson
says that the _Tiger_ ‘was so weak in the side, that she laid all her
ordinance in the sea’, which seems to mean that the wind laid her over
so much that sufficient elevation could not be given to the guns. The
Portuguese, being to leeward, were just as badly off, since they could
only fire over their enemies’ heads. Accordingly the _Tiger_ and the
_Espoir_, Denis Blondel’s ship, made an attempt to board the Portuguese
admiral. The _Espoir_ missed her and fell astern, missing also the two
caravels which followed. The other two Frenchmen stood aloof, and the
_Hart_ was far behind. Nevertheless, the Portuguese made no offer to
stop and fight Towerson, but stood on out to sea. He chased them for two
hours, and they then turned shorewards again, hoping to catch the French
admiral, who for some unexplained reason was close to the land. He was
caught under the lee of the whole Portuguese squadron, received all
their broadsides, and would have been boarded but that the _Tiger_ stood
in to his assistance. The _Hart_ and the other two French ships
meanwhile looked on and did nothing. The French admiral was still full
of fight and, with the _Tiger_, regained the wind of the enemy and
chased them till nightfall.

Next day the whole fleet reunited, with the exception of one Frenchman
who had fled. The master of the _Hart_ excused himself, saying that his
ship ‘would neither rear nor steer’. The French admiral had half his
crew sick or dead, and the other Frenchmen said they could do no more
fighting. The English pinnace had to be burnt owing to her bad state of
repair. However, the Portuguese had likewise had enough of it, and
troubled them no more.

Trade was now resumed, and the allies sailed slowly down to the eastern
part of the Gold Coast, where the natives were more amenable and the
greater part of the profits of the voyage were obtained. Business went
on throughout the month of February, entirely undisturbed by the
Portuguese. The English kept to the leeward or eastward of the French,
doubtless skimming the cream off the trade; and when one of the
Frenchmen attempted to push on ahead of them he was fired on and reduced
to obedience. After this incident Towerson makes no further mention of
the French, and it is evident that the allies parted company here or
soon afterwards. At the end of February a native chief called King Abaan
sent friendly messages, inviting them to make a settlement and build a
fort. His town was said to be as large in circuit as London, and with
1,000 ricks of corn outside the walls. After doing business at this
place they began to retrace their course along the coast, passing a fort
where they saw the five Portuguese ships at anchor. Next day they were
surprised at anchor by a new fleet just out from Portugal, consisting of
a ship of 500 tons, another of 200, and a pinnace; but they were able to
escape without fighting. The _Hart_ was badly handled, and her captain
was reproved by Towerson.

The new arrivals brought the enemy up to a strength of seven fighting
ships against the English two, and it was folly to expect that any more
undisturbed trading could be done. Towerson therefore sailed for England
on March 4. On the 18th the _Hart_ parted company, intentionally as was
thought, her master having taken offence at his reproof. The _Tiger’s_
perils were not yet past; on April 23, when nearing English waters, they
were set upon by a Frenchman of 90 tons, who, judging them weak from a
long voyage, laid them aboard and commanded them to strike sail.
‘Whereupon’, to quote Towerson’s words, ‘we sent them some of our stuff,
crossbars and chain shot and arrows, so thick that it made the upper
work of their ship to fly about their ears, and we spoiled him with all
his men, and tore his ship miserably with our great ordinance, and then
he began to fall astern of us, and to pack on his sails and get away:
and we, seeing that, gave him four or five good pieces more for his
farewell; and thus we were rid of this Frenchman who did us no harm at
all.’ On April 29, 1557, having failed to double the Land’s End for
Bristol, they arrived instead at Plymouth after an exceptionally quick
passage. The daily takings of gold on the coast for this voyage amounted
to 76 lb., but the figures for some of the trading are not given, so the
total must have been actually greater.

There is no record of any official notice being taken of Towerson’s
return, nor of further proclamations being issued against African
voyages. The Government was preoccupied with other things; a war was
beginning with France (formal declaration, June 7), and Philip’s
influence and pretensions were becoming more and more unpopular in the
country. It was therefore not a fitting time to punish Englishmen for
distant trading adventures. The difficulty in obtaining large ships,
caused by the war, may have been the reason that Towerson did not begin
his third voyage until January 30, 1558[286], instead of setting out in
the autumn as was usual. In the winter most of the vessels of the fleet
were put out of commission, a piece of economy which resulted in the
loss of Calais; and Towerson sailed for Guinea with the _Minion_, the
_Christopher_, the _Tiger_, and the _Unicorn_, a pinnace. The Count of
Feria, Philip’s representative in England, wrote to his master that two
of the above were queen’s ships and among the best she had, and that
they sailed with the knowledge and approval of William Howard, the Lord
Admiral. He added that the adventurers gave out that they were going to
Barbary, and distributed 3,000 ducats in bribes, being in reality bound
for Guinea.[287]

The day after leaving England they fell in with two Danzig ships coming
from Bordeaux with wines. They examined them strictly on suspicion of
carrying French-owned cargo, and, in spite of denials, convicted them.
But considering the lateness of the season they did not think well to
take them back as prizes to an English port, and, having despoiled them
of such goods as they needed, including eight guns, they let them go. On
February 12 they entered the roadstead of Grand Canary to repair the
pinnace, which had broken her rudder. While they were there a Spanish
fleet of nineteen sail, bound for the Indies, came in. Compliments were
exchanged, but afterwards a misunderstanding arose owing to the English
refusing to strike their flag. The Spaniards fired upon them, but the
Admiral apologized, declaring that it had been done without his orders.

On March 10 they arrived at Rio das Palmas on the Grain Coast. Going on
from thence to the River of Sestos they heard news of six French ships
on the coast, and decided at once to make for the Mina region lest the
French should spoil their trade. Picking up some ivory on the way, they
reached Hanta on the Gold Coast on March 31. Next day five Portuguese
ships were sighted, but no action took place till after dark, each side
cautiously manœuvring to get to windward of the other. In the night
Towerson in the _Minion_, having got the wind of the Portuguese admiral,
fought with him for about two hours, shooting him several times through
the hull, while the Portuguese were only able to fire into the
_Minion’s_ rigging. After this the Portuguese sheered off and attacked
the _Christopher_ without doing much damage. Next morning the enemy were
nowhere to be seen; it was decided to seek for and fight them before
continuing to trade, but after two days’ fruitless search the plan was
given up and the squadron returned to the coast.

Here they heard that some French ships were in the vicinity, and,
England and France being now at war, decided to attack them. On April 5
they saw three Frenchmen and gave chase. They were successful in
capturing one of 120 tons, the _Mulet de Batuille_, and in her 50 lb. 5
oz. of gold. Arriving at Egrand, the easternmost place on the Gold
Coast, they found the French prize to be leaky, and were obliged to
spoil and sink her. Towerson now proposed to go on to Benin, but the
majority of the company refused. The fleet then separated to trade at
various places on the coast, agreeing to rally on the _Minion_ if
attacked. At this time the men began to be sickly, and six died. Having
sold all her cloth at Egrand the _Minion_ sailed westwards on May 10,
picking up the _Christopher_ and the _Tiger_ on the way. Both reported
little trade, and the negroes in general seemed hostile and suspicious.
For another six weeks they continued on the coast, trading at some
places and being repulsed at others, until victuals began to run short.
The crews of the _Tiger_ and the _Christopher_ were willing to attack
the Portuguese ships at Mina and so supply themselves, but the
_Minion’s_ men would not consent for fear of hanging when they should
reach home. At Samma the natives refused to supply either gold or food,
having made an agreement with the Portuguese, and the English therefore
burned the town. Next day, June 25, they set sail for England.

Great difficulty was experienced in getting away from the coast. Six
days after sailing they again sighted land and found themselves 18
leagues to leeward of the place they had started from, owing to the
extraordinary strength of the current. It was now decided to head
southwards as far as the equator before attempting to beat to the
westwards, and on July 7 they arrived at the Island of St. Thomé. A stay
of nearly a month was made at this island before, on August 3, a fresh
start was made and the homeward passage was begun in earnest. The
shortage of victuals became more serious, and on the advice of a Scot,
taken prisoner in the French ship, they called at the Isle of Salt, one
of the Cape Verde group. They obtained a few goats and a quantity of
fish and sea-birds. The Scot went ashore on the island and was not seen
again: it was supposed that the inhabitants found him asleep and carried
him off. On August 24 the master of the _Tiger_ reported his ship leaky
and his men too weak to keep her afloat. There were now only thirty
sound men in the whole fleet. A fortnight later the _Tiger_ had to be
abandoned in mid-ocean, in latitude 25° N. Still the long voyage was
protracted, and the latitude of Cape St. Vincent was not reached until
October 6. The _Christopher_ being now very weak, it was agreed to put
into Vigo and send for more men from England. But a fair wind sprang up,
and Towerson decided to make one more effort to reach home, fearing
that, once in Vigo, the treasure would never be allowed to go out again.
Two guns were fired to warn the _Christopher_, and the _Minion_ sailed
on. The _Christopher_ appeared to be following, but, the next morning
being foggy, they lost sight of her. Towerson mentions that he concluded
at the time that she had either outsailed them or gone back to Vigo, but
he strangely omits to state which supposition turned out to be correct,
and we are left quite in the dark as to the _Christopher’s_ fate. At the
time they parted company there were only twelve men in health in the two
ships. After losing most of her sails in a great south-westerly gale,
the men being too weak to handle them, the _Minion_ arrived at the Isle
of Wight on October 20, 1558.

The total amount of gold and ivory obtained on this voyage cannot be
stated owing to want of clearness in the account, but it would appear
that it was not nearly such a successful venture as the previous ones,
although more capital was involved. The truth was that, between the
French and the English, the Guinea trade had been somewhat overdone, and
the huge profits of the first adventurers could not be expected to
continue. The Portuguese had hitherto restricted their own trade on the
coast for this very reason, but now the negroes were becoming spoiled
and inclined to play off one competitor against the other. One new thing
was certainly revealed by these voyages, and that was that the
Portuguese were impotent to make good their boasted monopoly. A simple
process of reasoning led Englishmen to ask if the Spaniards were in the
same case; and it was not long before an affirmative answer was to be
supplied by Hawkins and Drake.

-----

Footnote 262:

  Hakluyt, vi. 136.

Footnote 263:

  vi. 138.

Footnote 264:

  Reprinted in Hakluyt, vi. 141–52.

Footnote 265:

  Strype, _Memorials_, ii. 504. Strype says the two ships were lent to
  Wyndham and his associates in 1552, and were intended for the voyage
  in search of the North-East Passage.

Footnote 266:

  Stanford’s _Compendium_ (1907) says that the ‘grains’ of this coast
  were pepper. Eden, although he describes them as ‘a very hot fruit’,
  speaks of pepper as a distinct article further on.

Footnote 267:

  Probably the Niger.

Footnote 268:

  Eden speaks of having seen the _Primrose_ after her return, hence it
  must have been the _Lion_ which was abandoned.

Footnote 269:

  Reprinted by Hakluyt, vi. 154–77.

Footnote 270:

  See Towerson’s first voyage, and marginal note to Eden’s account of
  the present voyage.

Footnote 271:

  _Acts of the Privy Council_, v. 162.

Footnote 272:

  _Venetian Cal._ vi, No. 251.

Footnote 273:

  _R. O., S. P. Dom., Mary_, vol. xiv, Nos. 4 and 5 (erroneously
  calendared under date 1558).

Footnote 274:

  _R. O., S. P. For., Mary_, vol. vii, No. 448.

Footnote 275:

  This evidently refers to John Locke’s voyage, and tallies with Eden’s
  account, except that the latter does not mention the offer of land for
  a settlement.

Footnote 276:

  This would seem to relate to Wyndham’s visit to Benin. No other
  place-name is mentioned in any of the voyages which bears any
  resemblance to ‘Bynne’. If such is the case, it throws a fresh
  complexion on Eden’s story of the abandonment of the merchants.

Footnote 277:

  _R. O., S. P. For., Mary_, vii, No. 449.

Footnote 278:

  _Cal. For. S. P., Mary_, p. 198.

Footnote 279:

  _R. O., S. P. Dom., Mary_, vi, No. 83.

Footnote 280:

  _A. P. C._, v, p. 214.

Footnote 281:

  _R. O., S. P. For., Mary_, vii, No. 450.

Footnote 282:

  _Venetian Cal._ vi, No. 327.

Footnote 283:

  Hakluyt, vi. 177–211.

Footnote 284:

  _A. P. C._, v. 305, 315, 322, 358, 384.

Footnote 285:

  Hakluyt, vi. 212–31.

Footnote 286:

  The date of this voyage is given, by a misprint, in the 1598–9
  editions of Hakluyt as 1577. Modern reprints have perpetuated the
  mistake. The date is correctly given in the 1589 Hakluyt as 1557, that
  is 1558 by our present style of beginning the year on January 1.

Footnote 287:

  Kervyn de Lettenhove, _Les Pays-Bas et l’Angleterre_, i. 152: ‘Los
  navios ... eran dos de la Reyna y los mejores que Su Majestad tenian.’

                              CHAPTER XII

            THE NORTH-EAST PASSAGE AND THE WHITE SEA

Shortly after the death of Henry VIII there reappeared in England that
mysterious and elusive figure which has so often flitted across the page
of this history—Sebastian Cabot. Although he had passed thirty-five
years in the service of Spain, had received high pay and honour, had
been appointed to the command of an important expedition, and had been
forgiven for his mistakes and incapacity on his return, he was never
really content, and was for ever ready to plot and intrigue that he
might skip from the service of one master to that of another. But
Sebastian Cabot was not the subtle and calculating villain that he has
often been painted. The key to his unending restlessness was nothing
more nor less than an egregious vanity, a never-satisfied desire to be
praised, looked up to, consulted, a morbid fear that he was falling in
the esteem of his fellows. Hence his offers to betray secrets which he
never possessed, his boasts of exclusive knowledge in astronomy and
navigation which he never revealed, and his tacit acquiescence in the
attribution to him by contemporary historians of the honour of being the
original discoverer of North America. Yet with all his hollowness he was
a useful man: he probably knew as much of the scientific side of
navigation and geography as any man living, although he professed to
know much more; and in the course of his long career he could not have
failed to acquire a very perfect knowledge of the details of Spanish
methods of exploration and discovery.

For some ten years at least he had been contemplating the
re-transference of his services to England. In November 1538 he
approached Sir Thomas Wyatt, Henry VIII’s envoy in Spain, with a request
to be recommended to the king. Wyatt’s memorandum runs: ‘To remember
Sebastian Cabote. He hath here but 300 ducats a year, and he is
desirous, if he might not serve the King, at least to see him, as his
old master.’ This touching manifestation of affection failed of its
effect. Henry showed no inclination to outbid the emperor for Cabot’s
expensive talents, and no more is heard of the intrigue until 1547. On
October 9 of that year, some eight months after the accession of Edward
VI, the Council made out a warrant for £100 ‘for transporting one Shabot
a pilot to come out of Hispain to serve and inhabit in England’.[288]
The sum was far too large for the expense of the journey alone; possibly
some bribery was needed to get Cabot out of the country. The affair was
still not cleared up nearly two years later when an entry occurs
relative to this same sum of £100, the warrant for which was to be
‘taken up by exchange’ by Henry Ostrich, a member of a business house
which had dealings in Spain.

The date of Cabot’s flight can only be approximately stated. It almost
certainly took place in the summer or autumn of 1548. On the 6th of
January of the following year King Edward, or rather the Protector
Somerset, granted him an annual pension of £166 13_s._ 4_d._, payable
quarterly, the first instalment to date from Michaelmas, 1548; which
date was doubtless near the commencement of his service in England.[289]
Cabot had probably given out that he had travelled to England on private
business. He certainly made no resignation of his office of Pilot Major
of Spain. Consequently more than a year elapsed before the emperor
troubled to ask for his return. In November 1549 Sir Philip Hoby wrote
from Brussels that the emperor had expressed a desire for Cabot to be
sent back. Five months later the Council replied that they were not
detaining him in England, but that he refused of his own accord to
leave; and that as he was an English subject they could not compel him.
With this the matter dropped. Cabot was frequently described by writers
of the latter half of the sixteenth century as an Englishman by birth,
although there is little doubt that he first saw the light in Venice. He
himself lied freely on the point as occasion demanded, and at this
period it was obviously to his interest to pose as an Englishman.

His position and occupations in England at this time are obscure.
Hakluyt states that he was ‘Grand Pilot’ of England, but there is no
other evidence that such an office then officially existed. The
adventurers of the Council doubtless entertained schemes of diverting
some of the wealth of the new worlds into the coffers of their own
State. The long stagnation of the English mind on such subjects was at
last breaking up, as many contemporary events indicate; and mid-century
England was virgin ground for the boastings and mystifications of the
old intriguer, who revelled in the impression he produced on the
unsophisticated islanders. The esteem in which he was held is proved by
several passages in Eden and Hakluyt. But the only project, prior to
that of the north-east voyage to Cathay, of which even a hint survives,
is that referred to in a letter from Cabot to Charles V, informing him
of a design of the Duke of Northumberland to fit out an expedition to
Peru in co-operation with the French.[290] Needless to say, the scheme
was never put into execution. Cabot was simply amusing his credulous
hosts while at the same time ingratiating himself with the emperor by
betraying them. It almost looks as if he had in view at this time yet
another change of employers. His one real achievement during his
declining years did not take shape until the last year of Edward’s
reign.

The general progress of discovery and the growth of English manufactures
led to the project of finding a passage to Cathay by the north-east.
Theoretically there were four ways of reaching from Europe the shores of
eastern Asia, which were still regarded as the most desirable mercantile
goal in the world. The most practicable route, via the Cape of Good
Hope, had been discovered and monopolized by the Portuguese, and no ship
of any other nationality had yet traversed it. The Spaniards had opened
up the corresponding western voyage through the Straits of Magellan or
South-West Passage, although they did not use it to anything like the
same extent, preferring to reach the Pacific by transhipment across the
isthmus of Panama. Frequent attempts, English for the most part, had
ended in nothing but discouragement for those who dreamed of a
North-West Passage through the ice-strewn gate of Davis Straits. The
fourth method only then, through ‘the north east frostie seas’, remained
to be tried. Few practical men could at this stage have put any trust in
the facile theory of Robert Thorne that it was possible to sail due
north over the Pole itself. But the coast-line of northern Russia and
Siberia was entirely unexplored, and, on the principle of _omne ignotum
pro magnifico_, it seemed to offer a glorious solution of the great
problem. Some expansion of the field of England’s commerce was
imperatively needed, for the old European markets were now being
exploited to the fullest possible extent, and the increasing luxury of
living, coupled with the industrial unrest due to the transformation of
the land system, rendered an extension of oversea trade essential to the
salvation of the country. The new England of the Renaissance, seething
with restless energies which waited to take shape and direction, was
incapable of living in a state of economic isolation from the rest of
the world.

In the months preceding the spring of 1553 a strong combination of
capitalists, courtiers, and merchants was formed for the prosecution of
the Cathay enterprise. It included the Marquis of Winchester, the Earls
of Arundel, Bedford, and Pembroke, Lord William Howard, Sir William
Cecil, Sir John Gresham, Thomas Gresham, Sir George Barnes, and about
two hundred others.[291] None of the documents relating to the Company
prior to the first voyage are now known to exist with the exception of
Sebastian Cabot’s ordinances for the guidance of the commanders. From a
reference in the latter, however, it is evident that a charter of
incorporation was granted by Edward VI, and that the government of the
Company was regularly constituted. Article 20 of the ordinances,
relating to the disposal of merchandise, provides that an inventory
shall be ‘presented to the Governor, Consuls and Assistants in London,
in good order, to the intent the King’s Majesty may be truly answered of
that which to his Grace by his grant of incorporation is limited’. It
would appear by this that in return for granting a monopoly the king was
to have a share of the profits. Sebastian Cabot acted as chief expert
adviser to the new company, and, in consideration of his services, he
was appointed its first Governor, in which position he was confirmed by
the subsequent charter granted by Philip and Mary in 1555. His dimly
reported adventures in search of the North-West Passage under Henry VII
were no doubt supposed to give weight to his opinions on the North-East,
although in reality he was as ignorant as was every one else on the
subject. The Company raised, for the setting out of the first voyage, a
capital of £6,000 divided into £25 shares. The subscribing of a single
share entitled an investor to membership.

It is important to emphasize the fact that this new company of
‘Merchants Adventurers of England for the discovery of lands,
territories, isles, dominions and seignories unknown’ was an
organization quite distinct from and independent of the old Merchant
Adventurers who exported cloth to the Low Countries. The term ‘merchant
adventurers’ was of general and not particular application, although,
during the time when there was only one such society in London, it had
naturally tended to be used as a proper noun. The fact that by force of
circumstances the name of the new combination was soon changed, and that
it came to be called the Russia or Muscovy Company, has perpetuated the
error as to its origin, from which serious misconceptions have arisen.
One of these is the story that Sebastian Cabot was Governor of the Low
Countries Merchant Adventurers, and that, in that capacity, he took a
leading part in the struggle with the Hansa which ended in the abolition
of that society’s privileged position in England. This supposition,
first advanced in Campbell’s _Lives of the British Admirals_, and
repeated by subsequent writers, is unsupported by any contemporary
evidence, and is manifestly absurd. The Governor of the Low Countries
Merchants had to reside at Antwerp, their head-quarters. Antwerp being
Imperial territory, Cabot would not have dared to set foot in it after
1548. Moreover, the names of the Governors of the old Merchant
Adventurers during Cabot’s presidency of the new company are traceable
in the State papers of the time: from 1548 to 1558 Thomas Chamberlain,
William Dansell, and Anthony Hussey successively filled that office.
They were London merchants, intimately acquainted with the cloth trade,
and exercising administrative control over the business of their fellows
in Antwerp. It is obvious that Cabot lacked the qualifications for such
a duty. The whole legend falls to the ground when it is realized that
there were now two companies of Merchant Adventurers.

From a crowd of eager applicants Sir Hugh Willoughby was selected to be
Captain-General of the first expedition, mainly on account of his good
record of war service and his commanding appearance. Richard Chancellor,
a protégé of Sir Henry Sidney, was appointed chief pilot and second in
command. Little is known of Willoughby’s previous career, except that he
had served on land in the Scottish wars. Chancellor was a professional
seaman who had been with Roger Bodenham in the adventurous voyage of the
_Bark Aucher_ to the Mediterranean in 1551. At the same meeting at which
these appointments were made it was decided that the voyage must begin
before the end of May in case the way should be barred by ice before the
passage had been effected. It is evident that both the length of the
Arctic winter and the distance to be traversed before the eastern flank
of Asia should be turned were grossly underestimated; otherwise the
voyage would certainly have been postponed till the next year. But none
of the geographical factors of the project were known, and, after a vain
attempt to extort information from the dense stupidity of two Tartar
stableboys who had somehow found their way to London, and who were
interrogated before the assembled adventurers, the issue had to be left
to the fates.

The fleet consisted of the _Bona Esperanza_, 120 tons, the _Edward
Bonaventure_, 160 tons, and the _Bona Confidentia_, of 90 tons. Each
ship was accompanied by a pinnace and a boat. Willoughby sailed in the
_Esperanza_, having with him six merchants, including his kinsman
Gabriel Willoughby, and a crew of thirty-one, of whom three were
discharged at Harwich before clearing from the English coast. Chancellor
was captain of the _Edward Bonaventure_, with Stephen Borough as master
and John Buckland mate. His crew numbered thirty-seven, among whom were
William Borough and Arthur Pet, both in the forecastle. He had also with
him ten landsmen—merchants, gentlemen adventurers, and a chaplain. The
_Confidentia_ was commanded by Cornelius Durforth, with three merchants
and twenty-four officers and men. The pinnaces were manned by drafts
from the ships to which they were attached.

Cabot’s ordinances[292] contain many interesting details. They embody
the experience gained in more than half a century of Spanish
exploration, with modifications suitable for the special circumstances
of the voyage. Loyalty and goodwill in executing orders are prominently
insisted upon. The Admiral is to submit all important matters to the
decision of a Council of Twelve in which he is allowed a double vote.
The fleet is to be careful to keep together and the commanders are to go
on board the Admiral’s ship as often as he shall require. Logs are to be
kept by every person capable of writing and to be compiled into a common
ledger to be preserved for record. The Admiral and Council have power to
reduce in rank inefficient officers and to set delinquents on shore in
any English port. Morning and evening prayers are to be read daily, and
no blasphemy, swearing, lewd talk, dicing, card-playing, or other
devilish games to be permitted. The merchants are only to trade with the
consent of the captains, councillors, and head merchants, or a committee
of four of them. Petty merchants must show their accounts to the head
merchants, and all goods must be carefully packed and not opened until
the end of the voyage. No person may engage in private trade until the
Company’s interests are first satisfied. In dealing with strangers all
must be careful not to enter into any discussion about religion. Persons
may be enticed aboard the ships to give useful information, but no
violence must be used, although it is recommended to make them drunk if
possible. Strangers must not be offended by arrogance or ridicule. If
invited to festivities the landing party should go in force and well
armed. News is to be sent home whenever possible, especially in the
event of the passage being found. The last article contains an
impressive warning against ‘conspiracies, partakings, factions, false
tales, and untrue reports’, and an exhortation to behave always as loyal
and honourable men, ‘with daily remembrance of the great importance of
the voyage, the honour, glory, praise, and benefit that depend ... upon
the same, toward the common wealth of this noble realm, the advancement
of you the travailers therein, your wives and children’.

The twelve councillors were Sir Hugh Willoughby, Richard Chancellor,
George Burton, head merchant, Richard Stafford, minister, Thomas
Langlie, merchant, James Dalabere, gentleman, and the masters and mates
of the three ships.

No better planned and equipped expedition had ever before left an
English port on a voyage of discovery. The commander was a man of rank
and good repute, while the chief navigator was a practical seaman and no
mere book-learned amateur. The crews were of the best that could be
found, and acted up to the spirit of their instructions; there is no
hint of insubordination in any accounts of the voyage, although the
bitterest hardships were encountered. In addition to Chancellor there
were in the _Bonaventure_ alone three men who afterwards rose to
eminence in their profession and commanded important expeditions. The
ships were the largest that could conveniently be used, for, although
greater tonnage was common in the navy, big vessels were not yet a
success for trade and exploration, being too unhandy for navigation on
uncharted coasts. The Admiral was furnished with letters of friendship
and recommendation from Edward VI to all princes and potentates
inhabiting the north-east parts of the world as far as the empire of
Cathay. For reasons obvious enough now, the attempt to force a passage
to Asia was foredoomed to inevitable failure, but that failure was due
to no fault in the promotion or execution of the voyage. It resulted
from a want of the knowledge which was only to be obtained from actual
trial and experience.

All preparations being complete, the fleet departed from Ratcliff on May
10, 1553. The next day, towing down the river, they passed Greenwich
with great pomp, the mariners all attired in their uniform of sky-blue
cloth, kept for such occasions, and the ships discharging their ordnance
in a salute to the king, who was then lying sick in the palace. The
Privy Councillors looked out from the windows, ‘the courtiers came
running out, and the common people flocked together, standing very thick
upon the shore ... but, alas, the good King Edward, in respect of whom
principally all this was prepared, he only by reason of his sickness was
absent from this show, and not very long after the departure of these
ships the lamentable and most sorrowful accident of his death followed’.

Proceeding in leisurely fashion out of the estuary and along the East
Anglian coast, it was not until the 23rd of June that the voyage fairly
commenced with a final clearance from Orford Ness. After getting well
away from the land, a course was steered due north until the 27th. Then,
westerly winds preventing them from touching at Shetland, after much
‘traversing and tracing the seas by reason of sundry and manifold
contrary winds’, they came to the southern end of the Lofoten
Archipelago on the coast of Norway. Touching at various points they
arrived on August 2 at the island of Senjen in latitude 69½°. A skiff
put off from the land and informed them of their whereabouts, promising
also that a pilot should be furnished next day to conduct them round the
North Cape to Vardo, the Danish stronghold which marked the furthest
outpost of European civilization in the North-East. Beyond Vardo all was
unknown.

Before the promised pilot could come aboard a sudden and violent storm
arose and scattered the fleet far out to sea. The night came on and the
wind so increased that Willoughby was forced to heave to. In the morning
he was rejoined by the _Confidentia_, but the _Edward Bonaventure_,
Chancellor’s ship, was nowhere to be seen. At this point the story of
the expedition forks into two, for Chancellor and Willoughby never met
again. It will be convenient first to follow to their conclusion the
fortunes of the latter.

As it had been agreed that in case of a separation Vardo should be the
rendezvous, Willoughby, with the _Esperanza_ and the _Confidentia_, set
about finding his way thither. The gale abating on August 4, he sailed
north-east by north, but soon found that he was quite out of his
reckoning and that his charts were incorrect. With frequent changes of
direction owing to varying winds, but all the time making headway
eastwards, he sailed on until August 14, when land was discovered in
latitude 72°. His course cannot with any certainty be laid down; on some
days the distance traversed is not stated in the log, the eccentricities
of the compass in northern latitudes render untrustworthy the bearings
given, there was then no accurate method of calculating longitude, while
such factors as currents and leeway caused serious errors in an attempt
to estimate the distance by dead reckoning. The one certain datum is the
fact that the land discovered lay in 72°. Latitude was then usually
ascertainable within a degree of correctitude; William Borough’s chart
of these regions, drawn up a few years later, contains no error greater
than ¾°, and only one in any way approaching that. Therefore it is
evident that Willoughby, on August 14, 1553, discovered Novaia Zemlia,
probably in the neighbourhood of Moller Bay.[293] Between it and
Greenland there is no other land in latitude 72°. Willoughby’s error in
longitude may be judged from the fact that he thought it to be 480 miles
east by north from the island of Senjen on the coast of Norway; actually
it is about 700 miles. The prospect was desolate in the extreme: ‘Early
in the morning we descried land,’ he says, ‘which land we bare with all,
hoising out our boat to discover what land it might be: but the boat
could not come to land, the water was so shoal, where was very much ice
also, but there was no similitude of habitation.... Then we plyed to the
northward the 15, 16 and 17 day.’ There was no occasion here for the use
of the king’s friendly letters to princes and potentates, but the
explorers did not lose heart. The last quoted phrase seems to imply that
Willoughby took this land to be a promontory of the continent and that
he was seeking to find the passage round it to the northward, having by
this time given up the idea of meeting Chancellor at Vardo. However,
after three days’ ‘plying’ or beating to windward, the _Confidentia_ was
found to be leaking, and, putting about, they ran 70 leagues before the
wind to the south-south-east to seek a harbour for her repair.

From hence onwards the actual course is altogether conjectural; the
daily distances are seldom given, and no more latitudes are mentioned.
But the general direction was now westwards, and it is evident that the
quest for the passage had been given up for that year. The object was
now to return to some safe wintering place on the coast of Norway. On
August 23 land was sighted on a west-south-westerly course, low-lying
and deserted, and running west-south-west and east-north-east. This was
probably the coast to the west of Cape Ruskoi and the Petchora River.
After coasting westwards for some distance they drew off into the sea,
and seem next to have sailed south-westwards into Cheska Gulf. Land was
again seen on the 28th, barren as before and running north-eastwards to
a point, after which it turned to the west. This can only be identified
with Kaninska Island, the eastern arm of the entrance to the White Sea.
The explorers landed in a neighbouring bay and saw signs of human
habitation, although no one appeared. On September 4 they lost touch
with the coast by reason of contrary winds, but regained it on the 8th.
It was probably during this interval that the entrance to the White Sea,
where Chancellor had already found safety, was passed and missed. From
September 8 to the 17th they coasted north-westwards along the dreary
shore of Lapland, and finally, turning back for a short distance, they
entered on the 18th a haven known as the River Arzina, which they had
noted a day or two before. It was some six miles long by one and a half
wide, and was full of seals and large fish, while on the land were seen
bears, deer, foxes, and other beasts, but no sign of man. After spending
a week in this place they decided to winter there as the weather had
become too bad to admit of further exploration. Groups of men were sent
out in three directions to search for inhabitants, but all alike
returned ‘without finding of people or any similitude of habitation’.
With these words closes the log of Sir Hugh Willoughby, written by his
own hand, and found a year later by Russian fishermen in the cabin of
the _Bona Esperanza_.

The details of the sufferings and death of the sixty-three men who
formed the crews of the _Esperanza_ and the _Confidentia_ are
unrecorded: not one of them survived the long Arctic winter. The only
other document besides the log of which we have any record was a will
made in January 1554 by Gabriel Willoughby, from which it was evident
that Sir Hugh and most of his crew were still alive in that month. The
will came into the possession of Samuel Purchas, by whom it was kept as
a relic, but it has long since disappeared. They certainly did not die
of starvation, for, when the ships were visited in 1555 by agents of the
Company, a considerable quantity of provisions was recovered. Henry
Lane, writing from Russia many years afterwards, ascribed their fate to
‘want of experience to have made caves and stoves’. At that we must
leave it. A wildly imaginative description by Giovanni Michiel, the
Venetian agent in London, forwarded to his Government in 1555, says:
‘The mariners now returned from the second voyage narrate strange things
about the mode in which they (i.e. Willoughby and his men) were frozen,
having found some of them seated in the act of writing, pen still in
hand, and the paper before them; others at table, platter in hand, and
spoon in mouth; others opening a locker, and others in various postures,
like statues, as if they had been adjusted and placed in those
attitudes. They say that some dogs on board the ships displayed the same
phenomena.’ Other statements in the same letter are demonstrably false,
and it need only be said that the above account is extremely unlikely to
be true.

Chancellor, in the _Edward Bonaventure_, had better fortune. After
losing sight of Willoughby in the storm of August 2, he steered for
Vardo as had been pre-arranged. Reaching that place without difficulty
he waited a week for the other two ships and then decided to proceed on
the voyage without them. The pluck and loyalty of Chancellor and his
crew are altogether admirable. If they had not exhibited those qualities
in the highest degree the whole project would have ended in complete
failure, and a disastrous check would have been sustained by the
exponents of the new movement of maritime expansion just when, for the
first time, there was some sign of national interest aroused. After the
separation from the rest of the fleet Chancellor’s company became,
according to Clement Adams, ‘very pensive, heavy and sorrowful’, and an
incident which took place at Vardo was not calculated to raise their
spirits. They encountered there certain Scotsmen who, hearing of their
intention to seek the North-East Passage, did their best to dissuade
them, magnifying the dangers of the northern seas and omitting no
arguments to divert them from their purpose. The Scotsmen, if they had
been resident for any length of time at Vardo, must have spoken with
good reason, and what they said was believed by the English to be
inspired by pure good will and without envious intent. Chancellor stood
firm, however, and ‘holding nothing so ignominious and reproachful as
inconstancy and levity of mind, and persuading himself that a man of
valour could not commit a more dishonourable part than, for fear of
danger, to avoid and shun great attempts, he was nothing at all changed
or discouraged with the speeches and words of the Scots, remaining
stedfast and immutable in his first resolution: determining either to
bring that to pass which was first intended, or else to die the death’.

His men rose to his own height of resolution, and the most hearty good
will prevailed between captain and crew. Accordingly, about the middle
of August they set forward once more, arriving at length at the entrance
of the White Sea. It does not appear whether or not he believed this to
be the mouth of the passage. In any case, ignorant as he was of the
shape and extent of the northern coast of Asia, it was his duty to
explore it, especially as it ran southwards at first and then curved to
the east in the Bay of Mezen. Having penetrated far into this great gulf
the explorers sighted a boat full of fishermen, the first men seen since
leaving Vardo. They fled in terror at the sight of the strange English
ship, of a size and loftiness hitherto undreamed of by their simple
minds. Chancellor manned his boat and overtook them, finding them ‘in
great fear as men half dead’. He reassured them by his gentleness and
courtesy, the report of which was spread abroad and caused ‘the
barbarous Russes’ to flock round the ship with offers of food and
welcome. At this point the English learned, somewhat to their surprise,
that they had discovered the dominions of the Czar. There is no hint in
Sebastian Cabot’s instructions of any such result being contemplated. A
marginal note to a later account of Russian adventures in Hakluyt says
that they arrived first at the village of Newnox (Nenoksa), twenty-five
miles west of St. Nicholas and somewhat further from St. Michael
(Archangel).[294]

News of their coming was at once sent to the Czar Ivan, not yet called
the Terrible, whose authority was so respected, even in those remote
regions, that the natives dared not buy the Englishmen’s goods without
his permission. In the meantime Chancellor, who at once realized the
commercial possibilities of his discovery, was eager to set out for
Moscow to deliver in person to the Czar his king’s letters of
recommendation. The local authorities were still awaiting instructions,
pending the arrival of which they made excuses to defer the journey. At
length they yielded on Chancellor’s threat to depart forthwith by the
way he had come. They provided him with sledges and post-horses with
which he and a few companions set forward over the snow-covered plains
to the south. On the way he encountered the messenger returning from the
Czar with a letter couched in cordial terms and injunctions to the
inhabitants to defray all the expenses of the journey. Such was the
weight of Ivan’s word that the Russians quarrelled and fought for the
honour of supplying horses to the travellers.

Twelve days after arriving at Moscow Chancellor was summoned before the
Czar. He was conducted through an outer room, wherein sat a hundred
courtiers in cloth of gold, into the presence chamber filled with a
hundred and fifty more. Ivan sat on a lofty throne, with crown and
sceptre and a most regal countenance. Nothing abashed, the sailor strode
up to him and saluted after the English fashion, and then presented the
letters of Edward VI. The emperor, having read the letters, conversed a
little with him and commanded him and his companions to dinner. The meal
was served in high state, with impressive ceremonies and massive vessels
of gold; but the English were quick to detect barbarian squalor beneath
barbaric display. They were greatly impressed, however, by the hardiness
of the people, and by the iron discipline which prevailed throughout the
land; also by the military power of the Czar, concerning which they gave
credit to exaggerated reports.

Chancellor made good use of his opportunities. His account of Russia and
that of Clement Adams (based entirely on reports of this first voyage)
are full of useful and generally correct information on the cities,
government, laws, religion, and products of the country, to an extent
that is wonderful when one considers that at the outset he was utterly
ignorant of its language and almost of its very existence. In his
bearing toward the Czar and his ministers he remembered always that he
was the representative of England, and that his conduct would mainly
determine the attitude which they would take up towards his country. His
combined modesty and dignity caused him to be favourably treated from
the first, and secured valuable privileges for the Company.

After a stay in Moscow of unknown duration, Chancellor and his comrades
returned to the Bay of St. Nicholas, where his ship had been laid up for
the winter. He was the bearer of a letter from Ivan to the English
sovereign, dated February 1554, in which a cordial invitation was
extended to Englishmen who should wish to trade with Russia. The Czar
promised them his protection and complete freedom to buy and sell in any
part of his dominions. As soon as navigation became possible the _Edward
Bonaventure_ set sail for England, arriving in the summer of 1554, after
having been robbed on the way by Flemish pirates.

Chancellor’s return with tidings of a promising new outlet for English
trade created a great stir in commercial circles. The quest of the
North-East Passage was for the moment forgotten, and a second expedition
to the White Sea was prepared for 1555. In February of that year the
Company obtained a fresh charter of incorporation from Philip and Mary,
in supersession of that granted by Edward VI. Sebastian Cabot, as having
been ‘the chiefest setter forth of this journey or voyage’, was
confirmed in the office of Governor. Four consuls and twenty-four
assistants to the Governor were to be elected yearly by the
shareholders, meeting in London or elsewhere. The first list of
appointments to these offices was stated in the charter. Among the four
consuls were Anthony Hussey, Governor of the Low Countries Merchant
Adventurers, and Sir George Barnes, whom we have already seen as an
adventurer in the African voyages. Sir John Gresham was one of the
assistants, as were also Sir Andrew Judde, Miles Mordeyne, and others
who took an active part in the Guinea trade. The Governor, consuls, and
assistants were to have full administrative powers over the merchants of
the Company. It is interesting to note how naturally the English
tradition of representative government took its place in the affairs of
these mercantile societies. The constitutions of the old Merchant
Adventurers, of the Staplers, and of the various provincial merchant
guilds, were very similar to the one now under consideration. The habits
of thought which they kept alive were undoubtedly a factor in preventing
England from becoming an absolute monarchy after the example of her
Continental neighbours. The charter proceeded to grant power to the
Company to acquire real estate in England, to plead in the courts, to
make statutes for its own governance, to impose penalties for the
enforcement of the same, to proceed with the discovery of new lands and
to conquer them in the name of the English Crown, and finally, to enjoy
a monopoly of the newly instituted trade with Russia, in which all other
persons were forbidden to engage.

The 1555 expedition consisted of two ships, the _Edward Bonaventure_ and
the _Philip and Mary_.[295] They sailed from London at the end of May.
The instructions were for the former to go to the White Sea while the
latter stopped at Vardo, there to collect a cargo of fish and train oil.
Richard Chancellor was in chief command, sailing in the _Edward_. With
him were Richard Gray and George Killingworth, appointed to be agents
for the Company in Russia. John Brooke was to fulfil a similar duty at
Vardo. Killingworth must have been a man of striking appearance: Henry
Lane records that on one occasion, when dining with the Czar, ‘The
prince called them to his table to receive each one a cup from his hand
to drink, and took into his hand Master George Killingworth’s beard,
which reached over the table, and pleasantly delivered it to the
Metropolitan, who, seeming to bless it, said in Russe: This is God’s
gift. As indeed at that time it was not only thick, broad and yellow
coloured, but in length five foot and two inches of a size.’ The agents
were ordered to go with Chancellor to the Czar, to present the queen’s
letters, and to obtain from him a grant of privileges. They were also to
set up warehouses in Moscow or other towns and sell their goods to the
best advantage. They were to use all diligence in inquiring about the
route from Russia to Cathay, and in obtaining news as to Willoughby’s
fate, of which nothing was yet known in England.

All this was duly carried out. The _Edward’s_ cargo was unladen at St.
Nicholas, and the goods transported up the Dwina to Colmogro
(Kholmogori), and thence to Vologda, where they were warehoused. Vologda
was about half-way between St. Nicholas and Moscow. At the end of
September Chancellor, with four others, set out for the capital to
perform their errand to the Czar. They were as well received as on the
previous occasion, and it was agreed that they should establish
factories at Colmogro and Vologda, the one fifty and the other five
hundred miles up the Dwina. The Czar made a formal grant of privileges,
including freedom from tolls and customs, freedom from arrest, and
recognition of the jurisdiction of the Chief Agent of the Company over
all Englishmen in Russia.

After the departure of Chancellor in the previous year the bodies of
Willoughby and his men had been discovered in their ships at Arzina by
Russian fishermen. The vessels were still lying at the same anchorage,
and were now visited by some of Killingworth’s men, a considerable
quantity of the cargoes being recovered. It is possible that
Willoughby’s body was sent home. His ships, for lack of sufficient
seamen, had to be left for another year.[296] Richard Chancellor, with
the agents, remained in Russia for the winter, but the _Edward
Bonaventure_ was sent home before the navigation closed. She picked up
the _Philip and Mary_ at Vardo, and they arrived together in the Thames
at the beginning of November.[297]

Next year (1556) the _Edward_ and the _Philip and Mary_ were again sent
out, in company with a pinnace called the _Serchthrift_ under the
command of Stephen Borough. The latter was not intended to trade, but to
pursue the north-eastern discovery towards the River Obi. The two large
ships had surplus crews for the manning of Willoughby’s vessels, the
_Bona Esperanza_ and the _Bona Confidentia_, found in the previous year.
They left Ratcliff on April 23. Soon afterwards occurred one of the last
recorded incidents in the life of Sebastian Cabot:

       ‘The 27th, being Monday, the right worshipful
       Sebastian Cabota came aboard our pinnace at Gravesend,
       accompanied with divers gentlemen and gentlewomen
       who, after they had viewed our pinnace and tasted of
       such cheer as we could make them aboard, they went
       on shore, giving to our mariners right liberal rewards:
       and the good old gentleman Master Cabota gave to the
       poor most liberal alms, wishing them to pray for the
       good fortune and prosperous success of the _Serchthrift_
       our pinnace. And then at the sign of the Christopher,
       he and his friends banqueted, and made me (Stephen
       Borough) and those that were in the company, great
       cheer: and for very joy that he had to see the towardness
       of our intended discovery, he entered into the dance
       himself amongst the rest of the young and lusty company:
       which being ended, he and his friends departed
       most gently, commending us to the governance of
       almighty God.’

This was his last personal appearance on the page of history. All that
remains thereafter is a document or two relative to his pension, and a
reference to his death by his friend Richard Eden. The latter event
almost certainly took place towards the end of 1557, when he must have
been at least eighty-two years of age.

The _Serchthrift_ and the two large vessels made a prosperous voyage to
the north. In the mouth of the White Sea Stephen Borough with the
_Serchthrift_ parted company to go on his own business, whilst the
others proceeded to St. Nicholas. Borough’s little vessel was
excellently suited for exploring the shallow waters and sandy coasts
lying to the north-east of the White Sea. Her tonnage is not stated, but
she was able to float in five feet of water. Yet her cabin was
sufficiently large to admit of the entertainment of several people at
once. She was fully rigged with three masts, and carried a skiff upon
her deck. Probably she approximated to the type which in Latin countries
was called a caravel. Her crew numbered ten, including Stephen’s brother
William.[298]

Although he bade farewell to the _Edward Bonaventure_ on May 31, it was
not until June 22 that Borough’s voyage was fairly begun. In the
interval he explored the southern shore of the Bay of Mezen and anchored
in the Kola River. A fleet of Russian ‘lodias’ or fishing-boats
collected in the estuary, bound for the summer fishing off the Petchora.
They were undecked, fitted with oars and sails, and were of even lighter
draught than the _Serchthrift_, although they carried twenty-four men
each. The skipper of one of them, Gabriel by name, was very friendly and
rendered useful services to the English. On June 22 all sailed in
company, rounding Cape St. John, the northern arm of the bay. Two days
later the _Serchthrift_ was in peril of being wrecked on a lee shore.
Gabriel, whose craft had reached shelter, came out in a skiff to render
aid. He lent them his own anchor and another which he had borrowed,
their own being too heavy, and, these anchors being taken seawards and
dropped by the skiff, they were able to warp off the shore.

On July 9 they rounded the cape called Kanin Nos and proceeded to
Morgoviets, thence pushing on to the mouth of the Petchora, which was
reached on the 15th. At this point Borough observed the variation of the
compass to be 3½° W. Five days were spent in the Petchora. On July 21,
the day after leaving, the _Serchthrift_ was in great peril from ice,
being hemmed in by a monstrous floe only half an hour after first
sighting it. After six anxious hours she got clear. An easterly course
was followed a little to the north of the seventieth parallel until the
25th, on which date the small islands which lie to the south of Novaia
Zemlia were discovered. Borough named them St. James’s Islands. The
variation was here 7½° W. A Russian vessel passing by gave them some
information as to the River Obi, the intended goal of the voyage, and
they plied eastwards against a head wind until July 31. On that date
they arrived at the Island of Vaigats, the most easterly point they were
destined to reach. In its neighbourhood they remained for more than
three weeks, experiencing very bad weather, storms, rain, and fog. They
encountered some Samoyedes who lived in deer-skin tents and worshipped
idols; and Richard Johnson, one of the crew, wrote a graphic description
of their wizardry and ‘devilish rites’. He was left behind among these
savages for the winter, but the manner of his return to civilization
does not appear.

At length, on August 22, Stephen Borough determined to give up the hope
of further progress for that year. The winds were continuously
unfavourable, the ice was increasing, and the nights were becoming dark.
He turned his sails westwards therefore, doubling Kanin Nos on August
30, and reaching Colmogro, where he wintered, on September 11. He
intended to pursue his discoveries further in the following year, but
was sent instead to look for traces of the ill-fated vessels lost on the
Norwegian coast in the autumn of 1556, as will be described below.
Nothing further was done towards the solution of the north-eastern
problem until the abortive expedition of Pet and Jackman in 1580.

In the meantime the two trading vessels sent out in 1556 had reached St.
Nicholas and there discharged their cargoes. The extra hands were sent
to take possession of Willoughby’s derelict ships, and brought them also
into the bay to be loaded for England. When all were ready to sail for
home Richard Chancellor came down to St. Nicholas, bringing with him a
Russian ambassador for England, Osep Nepea, Governor of Vologda. Both
took passage in the _Edward Bonaventure_, which carried also sixteen
other Russian passengers and £20,000 worth of goods. The _Bona
Esperanza_ had a cargo worth £6,000 and ten more members of the
ambassador’s suite. The ladings of the _Bona Confidentia_ and the
_Philip and Mary_ are not specified. The homeward voyage was disastrous.
Violent storms drove the fleet on to the Norwegian coast: the _Philip
and Mary_ struggled into Trondheim and passed the winter there, not
arriving in the Thames until April 18, 1557; the _Bona Confidentia_ was
seen to split on a rock at the entrance to the same port, and perished
with all hands; while the _Bona Esperanza_ was never heard of again. The
_Edward Bonaventure_ alone continued the voyage, only to meet her fate
on the Scottish coast. On November 10, 1556, after a four months’
passage, she was driven on a lee shore at Pitsligo in Aberdeenshire in
the darkness of a winter’s night. Chancellor, intent on saving the
ambassador, took to the boat, placing him in it with seven of his
compatriots. But it was swamped before reaching the shore; the
ambassador was saved, but the other seven Russians perished, together
with Chancellor and several of the crew. It would appear that those who
stuck by the ship saved their lives; for the remaining nine of the
ambassador’s suite survived, as also did John Buckland, the master of
the vessel. The hungry Scots of the coast plundered the wreck, not £500
worth of goods being ever recovered.

The death of Richard Chancellor was a great loss to his country. He had
been successful as seaman, explorer, and diplomatist. His courage in
face of misfortune on the first voyage and his admirable conduct at the
court of the Czar had alone made the success of the new company
possible, and entitle him to take a worthy place among the great
Englishmen of his age.

As soon as the news of the wreck reached London the Company obtained
letters from the queen to the Regent of Scotland, and dispatched Dr.
Lawrence Hussey to conduct the ambassador to England and to recover the
ship’s cargo. Mary of Guise, the Regent, did her best to obtain
restitution of the stolen goods, but her efforts were for the most part
unavailing; a few small packages of wax were given up by the poorer sort
of Scots, ‘but the jewels, rich apparel, presents, gold, silver, costly
furs, and such like, were conveyed away, concealed and utterly
embezzled’. Finding the business hopeless, Hussey set out with the
ambassador, crossing the Border on February 18, 1557, and drawing near
London on the 27th. The Czar’s representative was accorded a most
magnificent reception, entering London like a conquering king. Twelve
miles out of the city he was met by eighty merchants in costly apparel
and chains of gold, who conducted him to a house in the suburbs. Next
day the members of the Russia Company, as it may now be called, to the
number of 140, led him into the city. At the gates he was met by Lord
Montague with 300 mounted men, representing the queen, and by the Lord
Mayor and all the aldermen, who took him through crowded streets to his
lodging in Fenchurch Street. At various points on the route he was the
recipient of costly presents. Business was not immediately proceeded
with, as it was necessary to await the arrival of King Philip from the
Netherlands.

At length, on March 25, Osep Nepea had his first formal audience of
their Majesties, and the negotiations for a treaty were commenced. It
appears from a Venetian report—a source, however, which we have seen to
be very untrustworthy in this connexion—that, besides discussing
commercial matters, the ambassador requested a loan of artillery and
ammunition for the Czar, and that the Swedish ambassador protested
strongly, threatening war.[299] No trace of any military question
appears in any other evidence as to the negotiations. Among the Cecil
papers are some memoranda for a treaty with Russia.[300] The concessions
proposed for the Muscovites were very similar to those granted by Ivan
to the English; but, in fact, the treaty was rather ornamental than
useful. There was no necessity for it, for the simple reason that no
subjects of the Czar were likely to resort to London for many a year to
come. Russia’s sole outlets to the ocean were at that time the shores of
Lapland and the White Sea; her sailors were nothing more than fishermen,
and their craft were quite unsuited for a voyage to England, being for
the most part undecked rowing-boats; while her merchants were landsmen
and not seamen, accustomed to carry their goods for immense distances
over the rivers and plains, but having none of the knowledge or
inclination requisite for a sea-borne commerce. Hence the intercourse
between the two countries was necessarily very one-sided, and the
privileges already granted by the Czar were all that was needed in the
shape of diplomatic regulation. The real utility of Osep Nepea’s visit
was to learn something of the power and civilization of England, and to
open up an interchange of civilities between the two courts.

An interesting glimpse of the Muscovite at Mary’s court is afforded by a
letter from Josse de Courteville, one of Philip’s Flemings, to the
President Viglius:

  ‘Je tiens que vous aves esté adverty de l’arrivée du Moscovitte en ce
  royaulme, que l’on dict estre passé par la Mer Froide et que l’on
  tenoit innavigable. La royne l’a faict icy tarder jusques a l’arrivée
  du roy; et aujourd’huy a-t-il esté mené vers Leurs Majestés, au droict
  costel de l’evesque de Londres, accompagné de plusieurs chevaliers de
  l’ordre et autres, accoustré, assez à la turquesque, d’ung habillement
  long jusqu’en terre, de velour pourfillé d’or, et sur la teste force
  pierreryes.... Il y marchoit quatre de ses serviteurs devant luy,
  accoustrés à l’advenant d’une mesme fachon, et deulx derrière, qui
  portiont chascun ung fardeau que aucuns disiont estre sables, aultres
  aultre chose, pour en faire présent à Leurs Majestés. Et, comme je me
  voulus enquérir du surplus, j’eus nouvelles du partement de ce
  courier, qui ne me sembloit se debvoir oublier; et par ainsy je suis
  forcé vous laisser le compte à demy.‘[301]

The Company had prepared four ships for the Russian voyage in the spring
of 1557, three of which had already been used in the voyages to the
Guinea coast. They were the _Primrose_, the _John Evangelist_, the
_Anne_, and the _Trinity_. In the first-named went as admiral Anthony
Jenkinson, who was henceforward to take a foremost place in the
exploration of Russia and Central Asia. Osep Nepea also took passage in
the _Primrose_, bearing a letter from Philip and Mary to the Czar,
together with numerous costly presents for himself and his master. Their
Majesties’ letter gave a summary of the commercial treaty which the
ambassador had concluded, and expressed the customary hopes of amity and
good will between the two nations. The Russian merchants—if any should
ever come to England—should have liberty to come and go, and carry on
their business in all parts of the kingdom, selling their goods
wholesale or retail without impediment. While in England they should be
under the special protection of the queen, and should be free from the
payment of the taxes and dues which all other foreigners had to pay.
They might set up warehouses in London and other cities. For their
greater security the Lord Chancellor should be assigned as their judge
and legal adviser, and should decide impartially all disputes. The
letter concluded by giving a testimonial to the conduct and ability of
Osep Nepea, who would be able to describe at greater length the matters
referred to.[302]

  THE ENGLISH DISCOVERIES IN THE NORTH-EAST.
  From William Borough’s Chart of Northern Navigation,
  Royal MS. 18 D. iii. 124.
]

With the departure of the ambassador and the arrival in Russia of
Anthony Jenkinson, the story of the Russia Company enters on a new
phase. The business of the Company, in spite of the maritime disasters
of its early years, was now firmly established. It had three principal
factories, at Colmogro, Vologda, and Moscow; and a third agent, Henry
Lane, was sent out in 1557 to assist the two already appointed. Numerous
subordinate merchants and apprentices were employed, and craftsmen of
various kinds—rope-makers, coopers, skinners—were set to work at the
establishments in Russia so that freight might be saved by exporting
manufactured goods instead of raw material. A regular service of letters
through Poland and Danzig was established.

After Stephen Borough’s voyage in 1556 the search for the sea passage to
Cathay was for a time discontinued, but the marvellous journeys of
Anthony Jenkinson by land more than maintained the reputation of the
Company for the promotion of discovery. His adventures, however, and the
further history of the Company, fall mainly in the reign of Queen
Elizabeth and outside the scope of this work. One point deserves to be
emphasized: King Philip, by giving his full countenance and support to
the north-eastern discoveries, had tacitly admitted that the papal
division of the globe was not by him considered as extending to the
Arctic regions. Once the literal interpretation of the great bull was
broken down, it was impossible to say where the line should be drawn,
and the way was prepared for the retreat of Spain from an untenable
position to the more reasonable one of maintaining her monopoly in the
lands already colonized by her.

-----

Footnote 288:

  _Acts of the Privy Council_, ii. 137.

Footnote 289:

  Hakluyt, vii. 156–7. Some confusion has arisen as to the year of this
  patent, but it is perfectly clear. ‘The sixt day of Januarie, in the
  second yeere of his raigne. The yeere of our Lord 1548’ is January 6,
  1549, by the present style. Edward VI succeeded to the throne on
  January 28, 1547.

Footnote 290:

  Navarette, _Colección de Documentos inéditos para la historia de la
  España_, iii. 512. The letter is here dated November 15, 1554, but was
  probably written at least two years earlier. Northumberland was
  executed on August 22, 1553.

Footnote 291:

  Charter of Philip and Mary, February 6, 1555, and _Cal. S. P. Dom.
  Addenda, Mary_, p. 439. The latter is a list of the members in May
  1555. It includes the names of three women among the adventurers.

Footnote 292:

  The authorities for these voyages are to be found, unless otherwise
  indicated, in Hakluyt (Maclehose ed., 1903), vol. ii.

Footnote 293:

  Purchas, xiii. 6, thinks that Spitzbergen was the land found. The
  lowest point of Spitzbergen is in 76½°. It is impossible that
  Willoughby could have committed such a serious error in latitude.
  Moreover, Spitzbergen is due north of Senjen.

Footnote 294:

  Hakluyt, iii. 74, 331.

Footnote 295:

  The Venetian agent (_Venetian Cal._ vi, No. 89) says three. The error
  arose from the name of the _Philip and Mary_, which the Italian
  doubtless took to be two vessels. The instructions for the voyage
  leave no doubt that only two ships were sent. See also Henry Lane’s
  letter (Hakluyt, iii. 332).

Footnote 296:

  The Venetian envoy wrongly states that they were brought home in 1555.

Footnote 297:

  _Venetian Cal._ vi, No. 269.

Footnote 298:

  These details are scattered here and there in Borough’s account of the
  voyage.

Footnote 299:

  _Venetian Cal._ vi, No. 852.

Footnote 300:

  _Cal. Cecil MSS._, i, p. 146.

Footnote 301:

  _Brussels Archives_, Kervyn de Lettenhove, i, p. 61.

Footnote 302:

  _Cotton MSS._, Nero, B viii, 3.

                              CHAPTER XIII

                  SHIPS AND MEN. ENGLISH PORTS

The fifteenth and sixteenth centuries witnessed great developments in
English shipbuilding. In the former the feeble, untrustworthy vessels of
the Middle Ages were improved and strengthened until they were
sufficiently sound for regular voyages to all the waters of Europe, the
Mediterranean included; and in the latter an ocean-going type was
evolved, capable of keeping the sea for weeks and months at a stretch,
and of making such voyages as those of Drake and Cavendish, which
constituted an astonishing advance on anything that had previously been
possible.

At the commencement of this improvement in shipping England lagged far
behind her competitors. The Venetians were regularly voyaging to the
North Sea for at least two centuries before there was any established
English trade to the Mediterranean. The Portuguese had commercial posts
on the Guinea coast a hundred years before Wyndham sailed the first
English vessel there; and their successive advances on the route to
India, spread over a long period of years and culminating in Vasco da
Gama’s arrival at Calicut in 1498, gave them a long start in the
acquisition of the experience necessary to the advance of shipbuilding.
Yet by the end of the sixteenth century the positions were reversed, and
English ships were excelled by none in durability and handiness and
general efficiency for the purposes for which they were designed.

It would seem that this rapid advance in excellence was largely due to
the interest in the navy displayed by Tudor governments. The development
of the warship preceded in most respects that of the merchantman; and,
owing to the peculiar conditions of the time, every merchantman which
was to be of use for anything beyond mere coasting had to be provided
with some fighting gear. For distant voyages in fact, such as those to
the Mediterranean, merchants preferred to charter a man-of-war from the
State whenever one was available. Throughout the period in question
England was exposed to constant wars or threatenings of war with France
or Spain, with the result that the improvement of fighting-ships was
vigorously pressed. The fleet became a leading care of the State to an
extent never before dreamed of; and the mercantile marine, fostered by a
system of bounties, shared in the general enlightenment, and steadily
extended the scope of its activities to the accompaniment of an
unprecedented advance in the construction of ships and the study of all
things pertaining to shipping.

Mediaeval vessels fall largely into two classes: the long, low and
narrow galley; and the short, broad, almost basin-shaped sailing-ship,
propelled usually by a single square sail. In northern waters the
galley, common until the twelfth century, gradually gave place to the
sailing-ship, on which all progress was concentrated, so that by the
close of the Middle Ages the oared vessel was practically extinct
outside the Mediterranean. In that sea, however, natural conditions were
more favourable to the galley, which survived side by side with the
sailing-vessel and which, although costing more in working expenses, was
preferred for its swiftness and reliability.

In England the first great improvement of the mediaeval sailing-ship
consisted in fitting two or more masts in place of the one which had
hitherto been considered sufficient. The exact date of this advance is
unknown, but it probably occurred before the beginning of the fifteenth
century, when the increasing frequency of voyages to Bordeaux and
Iceland began to demand more navigable vessels for their safe
accomplishment. A natural concomitant of this change was an increase of
length and a modification of the extreme basin-shape of the
single-masted cogs, which were only suited for short, fair-wind trips
across the narrow seas to France or Flanders. At some time also in the
same century occurred the introduction of the lateen sail in place of
the square sail on the aftermost mast of the ship. This device doubtless
came from the Mediterranean, where small craft were fitted exclusively
with such sails.

A modification in the shape of the hull, which was destined to be of
long enduring influence, was due to the needs of warfare. In early
vessels there was no raised poop or forecastle, but the deck ran in
unbroken sweep from prow to stern, at which extremities the timbers of
the side curved upwards to a point. For fighting purposes it became
customary to fit such ships with raised platforms or castles, built on
temporarily at either end, and occupied by archers, slingers, and
stone-throwing engines. The latter, from such a high vantage-point,
could do great execution on an enemy’s decks and could, moreover, assist
in repelling boarders from the waist of their own vessel. The efficacy
of the new departure was speedily proved, and it became permanently
incorporated into the design. Ships were now built with a strong square
forecastle and ‘summercastle’, as the after-edifice was named, as
integral parts of the structure. The additional weight thus placed at
either end necessitated an increase of length to avoid excessive
pitching. The pitching motion was nevertheless very severe, as was
proved when a full-sized model of Columbus’s caravel, the _Santa Maria_,
was sailed across the Atlantic in 1893.[303]

In a late fifteenth-century manuscript in the British Museum,[304] the
author of which died in 1491, there are numerous illustrations of ships
which may be taken as representing the state of marine construction at
the opening of the Tudor period. On folio 5 is a drawing of a
sailing-ship, probably the type of vessel with which the longer voyages,
such as those to Bordeaux or Spain, were made. She has a platform-shaped
forecastle, not of excessive height, and a long poop sloping upwards
towards the stern. The masts are three in number, the foremast being
very short and the mainmast twice its height. Each of these is intended
to carry one square sail, although the mainsail only is shown. The
mizen-mast is short and carries one lateen sail. There is a bowsprit but
no sprit-sail such as was afterwards used. None of the drawings in this
manuscript shows any signs of a sprit-sail yard on the bowsprit; and it
is possible that they had not been introduced at that date, although
they were in use before the close of the century. The same may be said
of top-sails and topmasts; they occur nowhere in these drawings, but
they were certainly fitted to warships built for Henry VII not long
after his accession. The drawing on f. 5 has been frequently reproduced,
but generally so badly as to make it appear that the ship has only two
masts instead of three.

On f. 25 of the same manuscript is a very clear drawing showing a large
ship in harbour with sails furled. This vessel has a short, high
forecastle and a long poop rising in two tiers. The bowsprit and
foremast are short. The mainmast is high and very thick, while there are
two mizen-masts each with a yard for a lateen sail. When two mizen-masts
were fitted to a ship the foremost was called the main mizen and the
aftermost the bonaventure mizen. This is the earliest drawing showing a
four-masted ship which has been met with. On the other side of the sheet
(f. 25b) the same vessel is shown in a storm at sea. There are guns on
deck in the waist and a row of oval openings in the poop and forecastle
which are evidently intended for ports for smaller pieces. On f. 18b is
a representation of a sea fight, one ship engaging two others at close
quarters. Long-bows, cross-bows, spears, and stones are the principal
weapons used; and marksmen are placed in the tops to sweep the enemy’s
decks. The mainmasts, and occasionally the other masts, of ships of the
time were fitted with circular tops for fighting and look-out purposes,
and large enough for two or three men to stand in. At a later period
small guns were mounted in them. All the vessels in this manuscript show
an immense advance on the old mediaeval cog, and indicate the great
improvements which had been going on during the fifteenth century.

  WARSHIP, _c._ 1485.
  From Cott. MS. Jul. E. iv. 6, f. 25.
]

As was natural during a period of more extended voyages, the size of
merchant ships tended to increase. Nine vessels trading between England
and Spain in the time of Henry VII, of which the tonnage is mentioned in
the State papers, show an average of 142 tons, the largest being 220
tons. The Italians generally built their ships larger than this, and,
although we read that in 1488 there was no ship of 1,000 tons in Venice,
the reference seems to imply that ships of that size were by no means
unknown. The statements as to tonnage must, however, be taken as of very
loose application, the same ship being sometimes given as 50 per cent.
or more larger than at others. The _Henry Grace à Dieu_, for example,
Henry VIII’s great warship, varies between 1,000 and 1,500 tons, and the
_Mary Rose_, which was of 400 tons when built, is described as of 600
three years later. In English ships the unit of measurement was the tun
of Bordeaux wine, which contained 252 gallons and occupied about 60
cubic feet of space.[305] When there was a question of hiring
merchantmen for war purposes, for which payment was made by the ton, the
owner’s estimate was apt to differ considerably from that of the
government. In the French war of 1512–13 the navy lists contain numbers
of merchantmen whose tonnage varies so astonishingly as to suggest that
their hulls were capable of inflation and deflation like balloons.

The cost of building ships was very low in comparison with modern
figures, although it rose rapidly with the influx of gold from America
in the sixteenth century. Two small warships, the _Mary Fortune_ and the
_Sweepstake_, were built for Henry VII at a cost of £110 and £120
respectively.[306] At the opening of Henry VIII’s reign the _Mary Rose_,
400 tons, and the _Peter Pomegranate_, 300, together cost £1,016 fully
equipped for sea;[307] while the _Henry Grace à Dieu_, the largest ship
of her time, cost £8,708 in 1514.[308] Privately owned ships were
chartered by the State at 3_d._ per ton per week.

A French manuscript of 1519[309] affords some information as to the
shipping of that date. It is a translation in French of Caesar’s wars,
to illustrate which a large map of France is provided as a frontispiece.
Following the contemporary custom, the cartographer has inserted
drawings of ships in the surrounding seas. One of these, placed near the
mouth of the Garonne, represents a large merchantman. She has a curved
stem and rounded, swelling bows, shaped like a bellying sail and
surmounted by a flat, platform-shaped forecastle which overhangs the
water. The waist has greater freeboard than that of a warship, and the
poop is small and square. No guns are visible, and the hull is evidently
designed for stability and carrying capacity rather than speed and
fighting convenience. There are three pole masts, each with a round top
and one square sail. There are no topmasts and no bowsprit. Three other
sailing-ships are shown on the same map. Their hulls are of the same
type as the one already described, but they have only one mast each. As
this was a work dealing with ancient history it is probable that the
artist purposely drew the oldest-fashioned craft he was acquainted with.
He had some archaeological instinct, as is evident from the semi-Roman
costumes which appear in other illustrations; and he recognized that it
would be inappropriate to place guns in the ships, not one of which
possesses them. If this view is correct the manuscript is interesting as
providing one of the many lost connecting links between the mediaeval
and modern types of sailing-ship.

Robert Thorne’s map of 1527, appended to his book to Dr. Lee, bears a
spirited drawing of a sailing-vessel approximating more to the
man-of-war type. She has a square, overhanging forecastle, a low waist,
and a high, narrow poop. The fore and main masts are lofty, and are each
provided with top-sails, while the short mizen has one lateen sail. It
is not apparent whether this was intended to represent an English or
Spanish vessel. Thorne was an Englishman, but the drawing was made at
Seville and is placed in a part of the ocean to which no English ship
had then penetrated.

One more example of the none too numerous drawings of merchantmen may be
quoted. In a _Book of Hydrography_ designed in 1542 by a Frenchman, John
Rotz, for Henry VIII,[310] occur numerous beautifully painted maps
embracing all parts of the world. On one, representing the North
Atlantic, a merchant vessel is seen near the coast of Portugal. The
hull, evidently built for carrying capacity, is on very full lines, and
the fore and after castles are small in proportion. The mainmast carries
two sails, but the fore and mizen masts have only one each, that on the
latter being a lateen. There is a bowsprit but no sprit-sail. This may
possibly represent a Portuguese carrack of the type with which they
voyaged to the East Indies. Such vessels were subsequently developed to
(for that time) an enormous size. One captured by the English in 1592,
named the _Madre de Dios_, was of 1,600 tons burden.

The facts considered above serve to indicate that, although little is
known with exactitude about the merchant vessels of early Tudor times,
it is at least certain that they were by no means identical in design
with the warships. The latter, as will be seen, mounted large numbers of
guns—over 100 in many cases—and this fact influenced their design to an
extent quite unnecessary in trading craft, which were far less heavily
armed. The principal features in the development of the latter from
their mediaeval prototypes were: increasing length, relatively small
size of the ‘castles’, and an increasing number of sails and spars,
together with the introduction of topmasts.

The ship’s boats were usually three in number, the ‘great boat’, the
long-boat, and the skiff or jolly-boat. They were probably carried on
deck in the waist, and must have been hoisted by tackles from the
yard-arms, since davits were not then used for the purpose. The great
boat was often towed. Hakluyt gives an account of a voyage to the
Mediterranean by the _Matthew Gonson_ in 1535, as narrated by one of the
crew. He says that they towed their great boat all the way from Chios to
the Straits of Gibraltar, implying that she was then hoisted aboard. As
this boat was big enough to carry ten tuns of water it is difficult to
imagine how it was done.

[Illustration: 1]

  2

  TWO MERCHANTMEN.
  1. From Robert Thorne’s map, 1527. 2. From
  Harl. MS. 6205, date 1519.
]

Although, as we have seen, four-masted ships were known long before the
end of the fifteenth century, the merchantman of Tudor times was usually
equipped with three. In short vessels the masts were rigged in a
fan-shape, the foremast inclining forwards, the mainmast upright, and
the mizen raking towards the rear so as to give greater distance between
the sails. The latter tended to increase in number, the use of top-sails
and sprit-sails beneath the bowsprit becoming common in the reign of
Henry VII. An additional spar, projecting from the stern of the ship in
the same manner as the bowsprit from the bow, and named the ‘outligger’,
was fitted to receive the sheet of the lateen sail on the mizenmast.
With top-sails, topmasts were introduced, but the latter were fixtures
in the sixteenth century and not strikeable at sea. To diminish rolling
in heavy weather it was customary to lower the main- and fore-yards down
to the deck, as is depicted in various drawings. Top-gallant-masts and
sails were fitted to warships—the _Henry Grace à Dieu_ had them on three
of her four masts—but it does not appear that any merchant ship had them
until a much later date. Although there is some evidence that reefing
was known in very early times, it was not extensively practised at the
period in question. The purpose of reefing is to reduce the sail area in
high winds, but among Tudor seamen a contrary device was favoured. The
sails were cut smaller than the maximum size possible, and were
lengthened in light winds by lacing to their lower borders additional
pieces called bonnets. As many as three bonnets were sometimes supplied
for one sail,[311] but two was the more usual number. They were applied
to the main- and fore-sails and also to top-sails.[312] Jibs and
stay-sails, and fore-and-aft rigging generally, were entirely unknown at
this time, the nearest approach to any such thing being the lateen. In
consequence it was much harder than at present to make headway against
contrary winds, as an example of which the difficulty invariably
experienced by English traders in getting away from the Guinea coast may
be cited. The shape of the hulls was such as to offer great resistance
to the wind, and the leeway must have been excessive. Towards the middle
of the century, when the size of the forecastle had somewhat diminished,
it would seem that it was possible to heave the ship to without showing
any sail at all: Sir Hugh Willoughby’s journal, describing the gale
encountered off the Norwegian coast, says, ‘... the wind increasing so
sore that we were not able to bear any sail, but took them in, and lay a
drift, to the end to let the storm over pass’.

More distant voyages demanded a long-overdue improvement in the science
of navigation. The finding of latitude was rendered a comparatively
simple matter by the successive inventions of the astrolabe, the
cross-staff, and the quadrant.[313] The astrolabe, which came into use
prior to the age of the great discoveries, remained in favour throughout
the sixteenth century, being described by Martin Cortes in his _Breve
Compendio de la Sphera_ in 1556. An astrolabe which was used by Sir
Francis Drake is preserved in the museum at Greenwich. Cortes’s
astrolabe consisted of a metal ring, of which 90 degrees were graduated,
and a metal pointer turning on a pin in the centre. The pointer had
aperture sights at either end, and when moved until the sun could be
seen through both apertures it indicated his elevation above the horizon
in degrees on the graduated part of the ring.[314] The cross-staff was
invented early in the sixteenth century, but never entirely superseded
the astrolabe until both were rendered obsolete by the quadrant, an
invention of John Davis at the end of the same century. With these
instruments latitude was ascertainable with fair accuracy; in skilful
hands the error was usually less than one degree. The same could not be
said about longitude, in which huge errors were unavoidable by any
method then known. Longitude remained then and long afterwards an
insoluble problem, and many charts of the time made no effort to
indicate it.

Of contemporary foreign vessels the most interesting is the caravel, as
being the type with which Columbus made his great voyages across the
Atlantic, and which had a considerable influence on the design of the
Tudor man-of-war. The caravel, which the Spaniards found most suitable
for their early ocean navigations, had little in common with the short,
broad merchantmen of the narrow seas. It was built with a high, tapering
poop, a low waist, and a high, overhanging forecastle, rectangular in
plan, and serving to break the force of a head sea. The high castles and
general handiness of design rendered it an efficient fighting vessel,
and it was probable, as Mr. Oppenheim has pointed out, that it was for
this reason that Henry VII was eager to employ such craft in preference
to English-built ships on the rare occasions when he needed to mobilize
a naval force.[315] But the caravel, probably as lacking sufficient
cargo capacity, did not find favour with English shipbuilders, and as
late as 1552 was still distinctively a foreign type. In that year the
London merchants who sent out Thomas Wyndham on a trading voyage to
Barbary bought a Portuguese caravel of 60 tons to form part of his
squadron. The inhabitants of the Canary Isles, recognizing from a
distance that she was not an English ship, made an attack on the
expedition as they concluded that she had been wrongfully acquired.

The carrack, unlike the caravel, is not an easily identifiable type, and
the word seems to have been applied to any large and bulky vessel. In
one navy list the _Henry Grace à Dieu_ appears as the ‘Imperyall (or
Gret) Carrick’,[316] but this is exceptional, and the term was generally
used only of foreign ships. In its particular application, if it can be
said to have had one, it signified first the trading-ships of
Genoa,[317] which ceased to come to England after the fifteenth century,
and afterwards the great East Indiamen of the Portuguese. The act
granting tonnage and poundage in 1485 provides that if an Englishman
ship his goods in a ‘carryke or galley’ he shall pay the same duties as
a foreigner. The carracks in this case meant Genoese, and the galleys
Venetian, vessels.

  1 & 2
  TWO CARRACKS.
  1. From Royal MS. 20. E. ix. 2. From
  Add. MS. 5415. A. 7.
]

Another non-English ship was the hulk, the large, clumsy merchantman of
the Hanse towns. William Towerson, sailing for Guinea in January 1558,
captured two ‘hulks of Dantzick’ in the Bay of Biscay. They made no
attempt at resistance against his three vessels, and were released as
not worth keeping by reason of their poor sailing qualities: ‘they
sailed so ill that, having all their sails abroad, we kept them company
only with our foresails, and without any topsails abroad, so that in
every two days sailing they would have hindered us more than one’—which
seems to argue that the Germans built their ships solely with an eye to
capacity. Henry VIII hired several hulks from the Hansa for use against
the French in 1545. His fighting instructions for an anticipated action
in that year directed that they should be placed in the front line and
used to break up the order of the enemy before the onset of the
men-of-war in the second line.[318]

Turning to warships, we find ourselves on much surer ground. Detailed
inventories exist of several of the crack ships of Henry VII and Henry
VIII, and carefully executed drawings of the same period are
numerous.[319] In the evolution of the warship the paramount factor was
the rapid development of artillery. The guns mounted in ships were at
first small and of little penetrative power. Consequently it was
essential to place them where they could do the greatest execution on an
enemy’s decks and against his rigging. The tactical idea in the use of
the gun was mainly to employ it in the same way as the long-bow and the
cross-bow; to kill the enemy’s crew rather than to sink his ship. Hence
we find in the warships of Henry VII large numbers of ‘serpentines’,
small guns weighing about three hundredweight and throwing a half-pound
ball, grouped in the castles of the ship, which were built very high to
accommodate them in two or three tiers. At the same time a few heavier
guns, throwing stone balls, were placed in the waist. These were too low
down to reach the greater part of the hostile deck at close quarters,
and must therefore have been fired at the hull. The collective weight of
all these guns was very great and, to secure stability and structural
strength, the ship’s sides had to be sloped inwards from the water-line
so that the weight should be more centrally carried. This ‘tumblehome’
in high-built ships was so great that the width of the deck on poop and
forecastle was often less than half the width at the water-line. It
served another purpose in rendering boarding more difficult, for, even
if two vessels were touching at the water-line, their decks were
necessarily several feet apart. The most easily accessible part was the
waist, which was defended by nettings and by guns placed in the castles
on purpose to sweep it with ‘hail shot’, the forerunner of grape and
canister.

The armament of the _Sovereign_, built in 1488, was as follows:[320] In
the forecastle, above deck, 16 serpentines, and below deck, 24; in the
poop, 20 serpentines; in the ‘somercastle’ (apparently a quarter-deck,
one stage lower than the poop), above deck, 25 serpentines, below deck,
21 together with 11 stone guns; in the waist, 20 stone guns; in the
stern, over the rudder, 4 serpentines. Total, 110 serpentines and 31
stone guns. The _Regent_, built about the same time, was most likely a
larger vessel, as she carried 225 guns. In her case their distribution
is not known.

Although Henry VII had these two first-class warships built, he did not
maintain a large navy, and at his death there were apparently only seven
royal ships.[321] His successor, bent on a more adventurous foreign
policy, began to strengthen the fleet from the very commencement of his
reign. The _Mary Rose_ and the _Peter Pomegranate_ were built in 1510,
and the _Henry Grace à Dieu_ was laid down at the end of 1512 to replace
the _Regent_, burnt in action off Brest earlier in that year.

An incident which took place in April 1513 probably had a great effect
on the armament of the _Henry Grace à Dieu_. The English fleet was
blockading the French in Brest and seeking in vain for some means of
bringing the enemy to action. As a reinforcement a squadron of six
French galleys was ordered round from the Mediterranean under the
command of a brave and able officer named Prégent de Bidoux. Three of
these galleys, according to contemporary letters, were armed with one
heavy gun each, obtained from the Venetians, and of such a size as had
never before been seen in France. It was asserted that a single shot
from such a gun would be sufficient to send any ship to the bottom. The
boast was soon, to a great extent, substantiated. Arriving off Brest on
April 22, Prégent made a bold dash through the blockading fleet and
succeeding in getting into Blanc Sablons Bay. In the process his
formidable guns sank one English ship outright and crippled another,
striking her through in seven places so that there was great difficulty
in keeping her afloat. This was a minimum estimate of the damage, as
admitted by the English themselves; a neutral account stated that two
ships were sunk, and Prégent himself claimed to have destroyed four
large ships and two transports, which was certainly a gross
exaggeration.[322]

The construction of the _Henry Grace à Dieu_ could not at this date have
been at a very advanced stage, since she was not ready for sea until
June 1514; and it is fair to assume that the demonstration of the
effectiveness of a few heavy guns provided by the above action was
responsible for the mounting of several such in the _Henry_. Be that as
it may, the tendency was henceforward to reduce the number of light
pieces carried in the upper works of a ship and to transfer the weight
of armament to a hard-hitting battery placed on the level of the waist
and in a fighting deck below the waist. The _Henry Grace à Dieu_ is the
first ship known to have been provided with a tier of guns below the
main deck. She was armed in 1514 with 136 small guns, and the following
heavier pieces, the exact dimensions of some of which are not
ascertainable: stone guns, 4; ‘great pieces of iron of one making and
bigness,’ 12; ‘great iron guns of one sort that come out of Flanders,’
4; ‘great Spanish pieces of iron of one sort,’ 2; stone guns on wheels,
18; miscellaneous large guns, 4; great brass culverins, 2; a great brass
bombard on four wheels; and a great brass curtall on four wheels: total,
48 heavy guns.[323] It is doubtful whether the stone guns should be
ranked as heavy weapons. They were evidently larger than serpentines, to
judge from their position in the _Sovereign’s_ armament already
described; but it is unlikely that they were identical with the ‘canon
petro’ of the latter half of the century, which fired a 26 lb. shot.
They were probably in 1514 medium-sized pieces, and if we deduct them
from the above total, the undoubtedly heavy guns of the _Henry_ numbered
26. The culverin was of 5½ inches calibre, and threw an 18 lb. ball;
according to a paper of 1513 the weight of the shot fired by the curtall
was 60 lb., while the missile of the bombard was of 260 lb. and required
a charge of 80 lb. of powder.[324] It is somewhat hard to believe that
the _Henry_ ever used such a gun at sea; and in another list of almost
the same date the bombard is omitted.[325] By the end of the reign the
_Henry_ had been re-armed, her heavy guns then numbering 19, and
consisting of 4 cannon, 3 demi-cannon, 4 culverins, 2 demi-culverins, 2
cannon-petro, and 4 sakers.[326] The weight of shot ranged from 60 lb.
for the cannon down to 6 lb. for the saker.

The same policy of reducing the number of guns, increasing their weight,
and carrying them lower, was pursued in the case of other ships built
during the reign, with the consequence that the excessive height of the
castles was no longer necessary; and after 1540 several vessels were
built practically flush-decked. These ships, which varied from 150 to
300 tons, were described as galleys, but the word was not intended in
its usual sense. They were fully-rigged sailing-ships and, although they
may have been occasionally assisted by the use of sweeps, it was not
their principal means of propulsion. They probably owed the name to
their speed and handiness as compared with the high-built,
older-fashioned vessels. An illustration[327] of one of them, the
_Tiger_, built in 1546, appears as the frontispiece of Oppenheim’s
_Administration of the Royal Navy_. She carries about twenty large guns,
of which fourteen are placed on the broadsides below the main deck. The
king himself was greatly interested in the efforts made to improve
warships. The following extract from a letter of Chapuys, an eminently
reliable authority, demonstrates his responsibility for the innovation
just described:

  ‘The King has sent to Italy for three shipwrights experienced in the
  art of constructing galleys, but I fancy he will not make much use of
  their science, as for some time back he has been building ships with
  oars according to a model of which he himself is the inventor.’[328]

The smaller examples of this class were known as ‘rowbarges’. They did
good service against the French galleys in the war of 1544–6, and were
used for policing the Channel in times of peace. They are thus described
by Martin du Bellay, a contemporary French writer:

  ‘Il y a une espèce de navires particulières dont usoyent noz ennemis,
  en forme plus longue que ronde, et plus estroitte beaucoup que les
  gallères, pour mieux se régir et commander aux courantes, qui sont
  ordinaires en ceste mer; à quoy les hommes sont si duits, qu’avec ces
  vaisseaux ils contendent de vitesse avec les gallères, et les nomment
  remberges.’

In the larger ships the type of hull gradually developed into that
familiar in numerous pictures of the Armada period: low forecastle, very
little higher than the waist, and moderately high poop, the guns being
mounted on the main deck and in one or more fighting decks below it.
This build, although increased in size, remained substantially unaltered
in its main proportions until the middle of the eighteenth century.

Although the hulls of ships were undergoing great modifications, the
style of rigging warships remained practically unchanged during the
period under review. The _Sovereign_ of 1488 had four masts, the fore
and main having topmasts and top-sails, and the mizen and bonaventure
mizen being rigged with one lateen sail each. A sprit-sail was carried
under the bowsprit. The _Sovereign_ was in all respects an excellent
ship, and probably in advance of the general standard of her time. As
late as 1525, when her timbers were old and rotten, the authorities were
recommended to have her rebuilt because ‘the form of this ship is so
marvellous goodly that great pity it were she should die’.[329]
Apparently the advice was not carried out, for she disappears from view
about this time. The _Henry Grace à Dieu_ carried topmasts and
topgallantmasts and three sails on the fore-, main-, and mizen-masts,
and a topmast and two sails on the bonaventure mizen; also a sprit-sail
under the bowsprit, which, for practical purposes, was a fifth
mast.[330] But the _Henry_ was exceptional in most respects, and the
rigging of the _Sovereign_ became the standard type for
sixteenth-century warships.

The great picture at Hampton Court depicting the embarkation of Henry
VIII at Dover in 1520 shows the _Henry_ and several warships of the
time, but the technical accuracy of the artist is open to great doubt.
Five ships appear on a large scale, and their hulls are all so
suspiciously alike that they suggest the idea that they were all drawn
from the same original. The only differences are in a few minor details
of carving and colouring. Two of the ships carry four masts and the
remainder three; and it is noticeable that not a single lateen sail is
shown in the whole fleet, the mizen-masts having square sails like the
fore and main. This is almost certainly incorrect.[331] Such guns as can
be seen are arranged in precisely the same way in every case, and the
whole picture gives the impression that the artist was drawing
conventional ships without much study of the real thing, and was
concentrating his care on the numerous gorgeously dressed individuals
who are seen on the decks and in the foreground.

  THE _HENRY GRACE À DIEU_.
  From a MS. at Magdalene College, Cambridge.
]

The fighting record of the _Henry Grace à Dieu_ is not particularly
brilliant. She was completed just too late to take part in the war of
1512–14. In 1522 war was again declared against France, and she was sent
to sea in the fleet commanded by Sir William Fitz-William. He reported
that she sailed as well and rather better than any ship in the fleet,
weathering them all save the _Mary Rose_; and, although it was only the
beginning of June, he went on to talk about laying her up for the
winter. She was evidently something of a nuisance, and the admiral was
anxious to be rid of her. There had been so much boasting about this
marvellous ship that the French were certain to make her the especial
object of their attacks, and the king would have been furious if she had
been lost. On June 8 she lost her bowsprit, foremast, and maintopmast in
a gale in the Downs, and a week later was brought round to Portsmouth to
be laid up. Special precautions were to be taken against a French raid;
two barks were kept scouting round the Isle of Wight, assisted by an
elaborate system of beacons, sentinels, &c. Later on 1,000 marks were
spent on a dock and fortifications for the _Henry_ at Portsmouth, and it
does not appear that she went to sea in 1523, after which year the war
was virtually over.[332] In 1526, when laid up at Northfleet, it was
reported that she was costing £200 a year in wages alone, and more than
that in cables, hawsers, and other stores, and that a dock would have to
be built at a cost of £600.[333] The next war was that of 1544–6. In the
former year the naval operations were unimportant, and the _Henry_ took
no part in them; but in 1545 an immense French fleet was collected in
the Channel, and for a time England lost the command of the sea. The
English fleet was concentrated at Portsmouth, the _Henry Grace à Dieu_
being the flagship. The king was dining on board when, on July 19, the
approach of the French was signalled. Indecisive fighting at long range
took place, and the French then withdrew. Another cannonade, with the
like result, took place off the Sussex coast on August 15, and with this
the war services of the _Henry_ concluded. She was accidentally burnt at
Deptford in 1553. Her career was typical of those of most of the large
fighting ships of the time. All of them, both English and French, were
considered too valuable to be committed to a decisive action, or to be
sent to sea in any but the finest weather; and such exploits as were
performed went to the credit of lighter and more easily handled craft.

In the wars of this period the French galleys on more than one occasion
proved exceedingly useful to their side; but all attempts to popularize
this type of vessel in England were failures. As has been explained, the
numerous craft so described in the navy lists were for the most part not
true galleys, but light sailing ships. In 1544, however, a galley was
constructed on Mediterranean lines and named the _Galley Subtile_ or
_Row Galley_. She was of 200 tons, carried a crew of 250, and mounted 31
guns.[334] A drawing in the British Museum shows her fitted with a
pointed beak or ram, and one mast with a huge lateen sail. She served on
the Scottish coast in 1544, when Edinburgh was sacked, and in the
actions against the French in the following year.

Artillery in the sixteenth century was in a state of transition.
Originally, after first rudimentary experiments with wood, ropes, and
leather, guns were built up by binding longitudinal strips of metal into
cylindrical form with numerous metal rings, on the principle of the
construction of a cask. Guns made in this way were mounted in Henry
VII’s warships, and the system continued in vogue until the latter half
of the century. At the same time cast-brass and cast-iron guns were
beginning to be made abroad; many of them were imported into England,
and they were used in forts and ships side by side with the built-up
guns.

Practically all the larger pieces for sea use were loaded at the breach.
The method consisted in having a detachable section, from one to two
feet long, called the chamber, which was taken off the remainder of the
barrel to be loaded. When charged with powder the chamber was replaced
at the rear end of the barrel and fixed in position by a wooden wedge
hammered in between it and a projection on the carriage of the gun, the
shot having been previously placed in the barrel itself. The gun was
then fired by means of a linstock and priming powder scattered over the
touch hole. Three chambers were supplied with each gun in the time of
Henry VII, but the number was afterwards reduced to two. The indistinct
accounts of naval encounters give the impression that the rate of fire
was not nearly so rapid as might have been expected, and the
breech-loading system was rapidly displaced by muzzle-loaders towards
the end of the sixteenth century. A large built-up breech-loader,
recovered by divers in 1836 from the wreck of the _Mary Rose_ (1545), is
to be seen at the United Services Museum in Whitehall.

Guns of cast brass were said by ancient authorities not to have been
made in England until 1521, nor cast iron until 1543, but these dates
are probably much too late. In 1516 payment of £33 6_s._ 8_d._ was made
to John Rutter of London ‘for hurts and damages by him sustained in a
tenement to him belonging, wherein the King’s great gun called the
Basiliscus was cast’.[335] If a great gun could be cast in England in
1516 it is reasonable to suppose that some experience had first been
gained in casting smaller ones. The wrought guns of this period were
embedded in solid elm carriages and fastened down by iron rings; but
several cast metal examples exist which were fitted with trunnions in
the modern fashion.

During the war of 1512–14 the Government purchased large numbers of guns
at home and abroad. Humphrey Walker, an English gun-maker, supplied
fifty pieces in 1512. The principal foreign place of manufacture was
Mechlin, where Hans Popenruyter turned out heavy weapons in great
quantities. He delivered twenty-four curtalls weighing about 1¼ tons
each in 1512, also twenty-four serpentines averaging about ½ ton. The
individual guns were all of slightly different weights and were all
named with such appellations as The Sun Arising, Virago, Mermaid, Rat,
Snake, Dragon, &c.[336] The heavier weapons were for land service, and
assisted at the sieges of Tournay and Terouenne in 1513.

A paper of 1513[337] gives some interesting information about the
various classes of guns in use: A minion fired an 8 lb. shot; a lizard,
a 12 lb. ditto, with 14 lb. of powder; culverins, ‘novemburghs’, and
apostles were 20-pounders; while a curtall fired a 60 lb. and a bombard
a 260 lb. missile. The latter could only be fired five times a day,
presumably on account of over-heating. The rates of fire of the others
were very slow, none of them exceeding forty times a day. The powder was
largely purchased abroad, although some was made in England; it cost
3½_d._ or 4_d._ a pound, and was of very poor quality. A Venetian
description of England in 1557 mentions that there were then 600 iron
and 250 brass guns in the Tower.[338] Since the private ownership of
cannon was not encouraged, this fact goes far to explain the non-success
of all rebellions against the Tudor throne.

The crews both of warships and merchantmen were much more numerous in
proportion to the size of the ship than they have since become. Many
improvements tending to greater manageability were then unthought of. On
long voyages also, allowance had to be made for serious sickness and
mortality, which was almost invariably experienced. The _Matthew Gonson_
of 300 tons, which voyaged to the Levant in 1535, carried 100 men, and
it was recorded as remarkable that only one died. On tropical voyages,
such as those to Guinea in the reign of Mary, it sometimes happened that
more than half the crew never returned. Overcrowding and poorness of the
victuals were partly responsible. The food supplied in English warships
consisted only of biscuit, beef, fish, and beer, and it is unlikely that
merchantmen were better found. A French victualling list, however, is
somewhat more varied, including biscuit, fresh bread, flour, cider,
beer, wine, salt and fresh flesh, mutton, bacon, butter, peas, fish, and
verjuice.[339] The wages in 1512 were as follows: Admiral, 10_s._ per
day; captain, 18_d._ per day; lodesman (pilot), 20_s._ per month;
sailors, 5_s._ per month and 5_s._ worth of victuals.[340] The
subordinate officers were paid the same as the sailors and, in addition,
divided among themselves a number of ‘deadshares’ proportionate to the
size of the ship. In merchant vessels private trading by all members of
the crew, at any rate on long voyages, was a recognized custom, and they
were allowed a certain amount of space in the hold for their goods. It
is referred to in the charter granted by Henry VII to the Bristol
syndicate in 1501, in the accounts of the Guinea voyages, and in the
instructions to Sir Hugh Willoughby in 1553.

A large trading-ship was commanded by a captain, appointed by the
merchants owning the cargo, and having general control over the conduct
of the voyage, the ports of call, dates of sailing, &c, and by the
master, who navigated the ship and controlled the crew. The captain was
not necessarily a professional seaman, as the master, of course,
invariably was. The composition of the crews in a well-found merchant
fleet is illustrated by Hakluyt’s account of Willoughby’s expedition. In
addition to the officers above mentioned, the _Edward Bonaventure_, the
largest ship, carried a master’s mate, a minister, a master gunner and
his mate, two gunners, a surgeon, a boatswain and his mate, four
quartermasters, a steward and his mate, a cook, a cooper and a
carpenter, together with twenty-one sailors. Most merchantmen also
carried a purser. The _Matthew Gonson_, in the voyage already referred
to, had six gunners and four trumpeters. The officers of the Tudor
merchant service were recruited from the more educated seamen, or from
boys who went to sea as ‘gromals’ or pages, the equivalent of the modern
apprentice. Sebastian Cabot’s instructions for the North-East voyage
enjoin that the boys are ‘to be brought up according to the laudable
order and use of the sea, as well in learning of navigation, as in
exercising of that which to them appertaineth’. The seamen were by no
means the most illiterate class of men in the community. Several
distinguished men, such as William Borough, rose from the forecastle;
and the numerous relations in Hakluyt by persons in inferior positions
indicate a comparatively high standard of education among seafaring men.
There were no official certificates or examinations, and a man had to
depend for advancement on the reputation he acquired among his fellows.
Consequently it was easier for able men to come by their own than in the
days of paper qualifications. The level of theoretical knowledge was
not, however, very high; and in this respect England was inferior to
foreign nations, which largely accounts for her comparative failure in
exploration during the first half of the sixteenth century.

The subject of discipline in merchantmen is somewhat puzzling. The
master of a ship had apparently no statutory control over his crew; his
powers of discipline must have been largely those inherent in the
cunning of his own right hand. Certain customary punishments, such as
putting in irons, seem to have been recognized; one of Willoughby’s men
was ‘for pickerie ducked at the yard’s arm and so discharged’ before the
expedition cleared the English coast. But insubordination was common on
long voyages, and often forced the captain and master to change their
plans and forgo occasions of profit. Even in the navy things were
sometimes no better. William Knight, writing in 1512 of the expedition
to Spain, complains of ‘the ungodly manners’ of the seamen, who robbed
the king’s victual while the soldiers were sea-sick.[341] The loss of
the _Mary Rose_ in 1545 was undoubtedly due to the state of anarchy
prevailing on board. Her captain, when told of the danger arising from
the open ports on the lee side, remarked that he had a set of rascals he
could not rule; the ports were left open, and the sea poured in and sank
the ship.

Piracy, the bane of European waters, flourished exceedingly during this
period of constant struggle among the western powers. After the peace
between England and France in 1514, a joint attempt was made by the two
countries to put a stop to it. In 1517 it was arranged that a commission
of three or four suitable persons should sit at Calais to hear French
complaints, and that a similar court should hear English grievances at
Boulogne. Judgement was to go against all persons who should neglect to
appear when summoned.[342] Some attempt was made to put the above into
practice, but anything short of an international arrangement was
foredoomed to failure, for, when hard pressed, the freebooters changed
their flag—French pirates pretended to be Scots, and vice versa—and it
was impossible to obtain any redress. The general state of public
opinion also rendered it improbable that port officials would be very
eager to do justice on their own countrymen in behalf of foreigners.

In England piracies were judged by the Admiralty Court, the tribunal
consisting of the Lord High Admiral or his representative, the Master of
the Rolls, and another judge, proceedings being opened at the place
nearest to that at which the offence took place.[343] An Act of 1536
strengthened the hands of the court, permitting it to pass sentence of
death, and depriving pirates of benefit of clergy.

The evil increased as time went on, and during the war of 1544–6 assumed
gigantic proportions. Privateers, under pretext of cruising against the
enemy, snapped up any neutral vessels of value, and the signing of peace
did very little to repress their activities. The weakness of the
Government in the next reign encouraged them to greater audacity, and
the Lord Admiral Seymour was accused of abetting them. The Act of
Attainder by which he was condemned to death[344] stated that he had
‘maintained, aided, and comforted sundry pirates, and taken to his own
use the goods pyratuslye taken against the laws’. It was not until long
afterwards that the Narrow Seas became reasonably safe, for the French
wars of religion, the revolt of the Netherlands, and the Anglo-Spanish
war continued to produce hordes of privateers throughout the remainder
of the sixteenth century.

During the period 1485–1558 the principal seaports after London were
Southampton and Bristol. The customs receipts at Newcastle and Boston
were both in excess of those at Bristol, but, as they were mainly
derived from the extortionate duties on wool, none of which product was
exported by the western city, they over-represent the true volume of
traffic at those ports. Throughout the whole of this period the tendency
was for London to increase its business at the expense of the other
ports, many of which steadily decayed in importance although the volume
of the country’s total trade was increasing. Since the duties continued
practically unchanged, the sums paid at the various ports afford, when
certain allowances have been made, a fair means of estimating their
trade.

The growth of London as a port is illustrated by the following figures:
during the first five years of Henry VII the average annual customs
payments, exclusive of wool duties, amounted to £7,274; during the last
five years of the same reign, £12,359; and during the years 1533–8, the
last such period in which, for various reasons,[345] a just comparison
can be made, £17,962. In half a century, then, the general trade of
London was considerably more than doubled. The wool duties show a steady
decline, due, not to a smaller output, but to the increase of the home
manufacture of cloth which left less raw material available for export.
The wool averages for the same three periods were £10,515, £7,206, and
£4,217.[346]

Southampton suffered great misfortunes owing to changing conditions.
During the latter part of the fifteenth century the town enjoyed great
prosperity as the sole English port to be visited by the Flanders
galleys of Venice and the great carracks of Genoa, bringing valuable
cargoes of eastern goods, and departing with their holds full of English
wool. As time went on this traffic almost entirely ceased, and