Nathaniel's nutmeg (21 page)

The English crew were by now weary of their piratical
adventure and elected to return home, eventually
sailing back into Portsmouth in the summer of 1606.
Michelborne was totally discredited by his conduct and
retired in disgrace, but far more serious than the damage
to his own career was the damage he had done to the
reputation of English shipping. The Dutch in particular
seized on his acts of piracy and used them to blacken the
name of England among the native princes of the East.
The English traders living in Bantam were in particular
peril, for the King of Bantam was furious about what had
happened. So damaging was Michelborne s voyage, in fact,
that the Company sent a protest to the Lords of the Privy
Council calling upon them to seize all the goods that Sir
Edward had pillaged and reminding them that 'Sir Edward
Michelborne has taken and spoiled some of our friends
there, whereby not only the utter overthrow of the whole
trade is much endangered, but also the safety of our men
and goods.'

The spice race had by now been under way for more than
ten years; time enough to judge who had gained the upper
hand. Although London's merchant adventurers were
flushed with success after Middleton's return, they had a
nagging suspicion that they were steadily losing the race.
They had so far despatched three fleets to the East
(including the ships of Lancaster's maiden voyage) with a
combined total of twelve vessels. Of these, one in three had
either sunk or simply disappeared without trace. The loss in
men was an even greater cause for concern. Of the
approximately twelve hundred men who had sailed on
these expeditions, some eight hundred had died either of
scurvy, typhoid or the 'blody flux'.Two captains had been
lost — one accidentally shot by his crew — and only one
ship, the
Ascension,
had reached the distant Banda Islands.
The profits, of course, had been enormous, even given the
difficulties of disposing of Lancaster's cargo of pepper; and
the Company warehouses were currently filled with sweet-
smelling nutmeg and cloves. But the report that Middleton
had submitted on his return suggested that it might be the
last cargo they received. For the Dutch, latecomers to the
spice race, were proving formidable rivals. Within a few
years of Houtman's return they had managed to despatch a
staggering fourteen fleets comprising sixty-five ships.
Unlike the English commanders, who preferred 'a quiet
trafficke', the Dutch had entered the race with cannons
blazing. They had achieved a remarkable success against the
Portuguese, ousting them from virtually all the 'spiceries' in
which they had an interest. Now they were turning their
attentions to the Banda Islands and seemed poised to
capture these by force.

Faced with such a threat the Company took the view
that they needed to expand their activities with all possible
haste. They still had only one 'factory' or warehouse in the
East, at Bantam in Java, and this was on a much smaller scale
than those belonging to either the Dutch or Portuguese. If
they were going to compete successfully against their rivals
this factory needed to be expanded and new factories
established right across the region.

There was a good case for expansion. One of England's
most important exports, woollens, was understandably
unpopular in the stifling climate of the Spice Islands.
Instead of cloaks and blankets, the natives wanted cottons
and calicoes which could be picked up cheaply in the ports
along India's west coast. Already there was a brisk trade in
these cottons and local ships regularly plied their trade
between Gujarat and Bantam. Since India was believed to
present a more favourable market for English woollens (as
well as lead, iron and tin), the London merchants reasoned
that if they could exchange these goods for cottons, then
barter cottons for spices, they would have established a
triangle of trade which would benefit everyone. Better still,
they would be able to dramatically reduce the amount of
gold being exported from England.

But there was a problem with trade with India. Much
of the subcontinent was under the control of the mighty
Moghul Emperor, Jehangir, the self-styled 'Conqueror of
the World' who had already granted extensive and
exclusive trading rights to the Portuguese
—
rights which
they jealously guarded. Since a military assault on their
fortified factories was out of the question, the only
solution was to send an ambassador to Jehangir and beg his
permission to build a factory on the western coast of
India. If the Emperor agreed, the Portuguese would be
powerless to intervene.

The governors began to search around for a suitable
candidate to bear their petition to the Moghul Emperor.
There were, they soon realised, few men qualified for the
task and after several weeks of searching, their shortlist still
contained only one name, William Hawkins, a sea captain
whose background remains obscure but whose name links
him to one of the most distinguished seafaring families of
the Elizabethan age. He may have been the Hawkins who
travelled across the Atlantic with Edward Fenton; he may
also have put to sea in the
Griffin
against the Spanish
Armada. But there were so many of the Hawkins family at
sea during this period — including four named William —
that it is not possible to untangle their exploits. Why the
Company alighted on this particular Hawkins is easier to
ascertain. Having spent some years trading in the Levant
he was able to speak Turkish, an invaluable aid in any
eastern country. He was also familiar with the customs and
manners of the Orient and would be able to make an
impression on the Moghul Emperor.

Hawkins set sail in the
Hector
in 1607 and arrived at Surat on India's north-western coastline some sixteen
months later. The journey was apparently uneventful for
Hawkins makes scant mention of the storms, hunger and
sickness that invariably afflicted the Company's voyages.
Even the first sighting of the lush Gujarat coast, watered by
the recent monsoons, failed to move him.

The town of Surat lay some twenty miles up the River
Tapti and was reached by way of a muddy estuary which
was only navigable by the smallest of vessels. The
Hector
therefore anchored off the sandy bar that blocked the
estuary's mouth and Hawkins — accompanied by several of
his crew - rowed upstream towards the town, watched by
a crowd who had gathered to stare at these new and
unfamiliar faces. The town's governor was too drunk to
speak with Hawkins so he and his companions made his
way to the Custom House where their personal possessions
were 'searched and tumbled to our great dislike'.

While Hawkins explained that he wanted to establish a
trading base his companion, Will Finch, set off to explore.
The city, he discovered, was a pleasant one and home to a
large number of merchants. Keeping a look-out for a
suitable residence Finch noted that the finest houses were
those fronting the river and those next to the castle where,
to his surprise, he stumbled across 'a pleasant green, in the
midst of which is a maypole'.

The customs' official spoke kindly to the English but
was wary. He informed them that he was powerless to
grant trading rights - that was the prerogative of the
Moghul official in overall charge of the Gujarat ports - but
assured Hawkins he would make their stay as comfortable
as possible. Assigning them sleeping quarters in the porter s
lodge of the Custom House, a room that Finch considered
rather 'poore lodging', he then secured them an invitation
to dinner at the home of one of the richer merchants in
town.

Unfortunately what should have been a jovial meal
proved to be painfully embarrassing. The merchant was
none other than the owner of one of the ships that Sir
Edward Michelborne had seized a couple of years earlier.
Although he was gracious when he noticed their
embarrassment and tactfully pointed out that 'there were
thieves in all countries', Hawkins and Finch could not help
but feel their mission had got off to a poor start.

It was soon to take a turn for the worse. While the two
Englishmen awaited the return of the Moghul official
whose permission they sought, the Portuguese took
matters into their own hands. They were most upset when
they heard of Hawkins' request to set up shop in the town
and, seizing an English skiff packed with crew from the
Hector,
they arrested the men and threatened to pack them
off to Goa to be dealt with by the Portuguese Viceroy.

Hawkins was annoyed but placed his trust in tact and
diplomacy. He sent a polite but firm letter to the
Portuguese commander reminding him that their two
countries were at peace and asking that 'he release my men
and goods, for that we were Englishmen.' The commander
was in no mood to be lenient and sent Hawkins a return
letter 'vilely abusing His Majesty [King James I] terming
him King of Fishermen, and of an island of no import'.
Worse still, he described Hawkins as 'a fart for his
commission'. Hawkins exploded when he read that last
insult. Labelling him a 'base villain and a traitor to his king',
he immediately challenged 'the proud rascal' to a duel. The
commander ignored the challenge and promptly
despatched the English prisoners to Goa.

The
Hector
had by now sailed for Bantam leaving Hawkins and Finch in a particularly vulnerable position,
the more so when Finch fell 'extreme sick of the blody
flux'.'After the departure of my ship,'wrote Hawkins,'I was
so misused that it was insuferable. [I was] environed with so
many enemies, who daily did nothing else but plot to
murther me and cosen me of my goods.' The arrival of
the Moghul official, Mukarrab Khan, did little to further
his cause. Proud, arrogant and avaricious, Mukarrab had
originally entered the emperor's service as court physician,
only to be elevated to the governorship after curing the
Emperor of a particularly nasty disorder. With the lucrative
port of Surat now under his control, he proceeded to milk
any arriving trader. Hawkins was not exempt from this
policy - Mukarrab impounded the Company's wares,
pocketed the choicest articles that had been brought
ashore, and listened attentively to the lies and deceits told
him by the Portuguese. 'He outwardly disembled and
flattered with me almost three moneths,' wrote Hawkins,
'feeding me with faire promises and kindnesses. In the
meantime he came to my house three times, sweeping me
cleane of all things that were good so that when he saw that
I had no more good things left, he likewise by little and
little degraded me of his good looks.'