Nathaniel's nutmeg (31 page)

The Bandanese had been encouraged by Middleton's presence and now rose up against the Dutch, massacring all who had the misfortune to be caught outside the walls of Fort Nassau. And, 'being fleshed with the slaughter of some of the straggling Hollanders which they had murdered, [they] took all the able men to give assault to the Hollander's castles; and determined to fire their ships.'

With the sound of musket fire ricocheting across the harbour, Middleton set sail for Bantam and home. His voyage had been a triumph, for against all the odds he had not only bought a massive quantity of nutmeg but also left the Dutch in an extremely vulnerable position. The Company directors were overjoyed and penned a letter to the Earl of Salisbury, Lord High Treasurer, drawing special attention to Middleton s guile and courage: 'Seeking trade at Banda ... he was, with many reproachful and insolent speeches, forcibly put from all trading in those parts. What he got [was] with strong hand against their will, from other broken islands near adjoining, with extreme hazard and danger (they devising and oftentimes attempting to

surprise, consume by fire and cut off by any indirect means both ship, men and goods.)'

With a temporary power vacuum in the Banda Isles, the directors began once again to pore over their maps. It was the island of Run, some ten miles to the west of Great Banda, on which their eyes would eventually settle.

Although the return of Middleton's ship was a cause for great joy, the directors of the East India Company were concerned that their licence would be rescinded by King James I. Courtiers and rival merchants were constantly petitioning the King for their own trading licences arguing, like Edward Michelborne, that one company should not be
allowed a total monopoly on trade. Queen Elizabeth I's licence had been for fifteen years and would soon expire. Sir Thomas Smythe, aware of the pressure that certain courtiers were placing on the King, decided that to exclude nobles from their enterprise was no longer advisable. Rallying King James's favourites to his cause, he now petitioned the King for a renewal of the Company's privileges, explaining the absolute necessity of retaining a monopoly on trade with the Indies. King James at length accepted their arguments, agreed to their demands and, instead of limiting his licence to a further fifteen years, he now granted them 'the whole, entire and only trade and traffic to the East Indies . . . forever'. There was just one proviso: if the trade 'should not prove profitable to the realm' the licence could be withdrawn, although even in this extreme situation the King would have to give the merchants three years notice.

Smythe and his directors were overjoyed at this extension of their privileges for it instilled a new-found confidence — and increased investment — in the spice trade. But the nobility, who had played such an important role in convincing the King to grant that extension, were not among those who would pour their money into future voyages. Reticent to sully their hands with trade, they preferred instead to be linked by association to this most fashionable of enterprises. It became de rigueur to be a freeman of the East India Company, a title which involved the participant swearing an absurd and solemn oath forbidding him from revealing 'the secrets and privities of the said Company, which shall be given you in charge by the Governor or his deputie to conceale'. It was a stroke of brilliance on the part of the directors, for aristocrats were soon queuing up to become members of what they excitedly saw as a semi-secret society. Acceptance went quite to the heads of some: the Earl of Southampton was so overjoyed when he heard he had been made a freeman that he sent a brace of bucks to the directors 'to make merry withal in regard to their kindness in accepting him of their Company'. The quick-thinking directors prompdy formed a Venison Committee whose sole function was to provide the finest game for banquets at Sir Thomas Smythe's house.

With the King's signature safely on the charter the time was ripe for a new expedition. The Company beadle was sent around London to collect subscriptions and, on his return, it was found he had raised no less than £82,000. With such a vast sum at their disposal, the directors decided to build their own vessel rather than relying upon the inferior ships of previous voyages. At 1,100 tons this new ship was a veritable leviathan, more than double the size of the standard East Indiaman and not exceeded in tonnage until the era of steam. Such a ship could only be launched by the King and so, on 30 December 1609, James I, accompanied by the Queen and Prince Henry, travelled to Deptford for a right royal celebration. The ship was aptly named the
Trades Increase
and was to be accompanied by two smaller vessels — the
Peppercorn
and the
Darling.
The launch was followed by a triumphal banquet served on priceless China-ware and, as desserts were served, the King called Sir Thomas Smythe to his side and slipped 'a greate chaine of golde and a medal about his necke with his own hands'.

This marked the start of a constant flow of gifts between the King and the Company and when the sixth fleet finally set sail it was given instructions to 'carefully keep and reserve for his majesty and the lords all such rare fowles, beasts or other thing as are by you or any of your company brought from those parts'. Mindful, perhaps, of the problems caused by the morose Coree, all three captains studiously ignored these instructions.

The fleet was scheduled to depart London in the spring of 1610 and a rigid timetable was imposed on all involved to ensure it would leave on time. By November the Company was interviewing potential factors and crew, and it is in the list of these new recruits that the name of Nathaniel Courthope first appears. Nothing is known of Courthope's life prior to his joining the East India Company. It is quite possible that he had worked as a trader in London and, like so many of his fellow factors, was lured eastwards by the hope of making his fortune. He certainly made an impression on the sober-minded directors for on 13 November 1609, just five days after petitioning for employment, he was told that his application had been successful. Several of his fellow factors were hired on that same day: 'Benjamin Greene who speaks Spanish, French and Italian [and] Rowland Webb who speaks French and Spanish'. Of Courthope we are told only that the Company 'has an agreement with Nathaniel Courthope for seven years'; two years longer than the other men hired. These extra years were to prove highly significant and would, because of Courthope's bravery, mark a turning point in the history of the Spice Islands.

The fleet sailed in April 1610 under the command of the experienced Sir Henry Middleton with the equally skilful Nicholas Downton in charge of the
Darling.
The governors decided that the two men should head for the Banda Islands and cement the friendship with the native traders. Middleton was also instructed to exploit the anti- Dutch feeling by 'presenting such gifts to the Governor [of Banda] as in your discretion shall seem fitting; and there provide three hundred tons of nutmeg of the best and soundest that may be gotten, freed from dust and rumps ... also twenty tons of mace, the largest and brightest that may be gotten, but none that is dark coloured red maces, which are feminine maces and here little worth'. Having secured his cargo, he was told to leave a large number of factors on the islands — including Nathaniel Courthope — to prepare for the arrival of future fleets.

Sir Henry was also requested to stop at numerous ports en route, not to buy spices but to continue the search for markets for England's 'wollen comodities' in order that 'we may be able to drive a trade without the transportation of money which is the cheefe scope of our desires.' It was this desire that led Sir Henry, after a tiresome journey around the Cape, to nudge his fleet towards the parched port of Aden on the south-western tip of the Arabian Peninsula.

'Wednesday at sun-setting,' wrote Nicholas Downton in his diary, 'on the sudden we descried Aden, which is situated under the foot of an unfruitful mountain, a place I should scarce have looked for a town, but it is set there for strength, where it is very defencible, and not by any enemy easily to be won. 'The castle reminded him 'of the Tower of London, which is not by enemies to be in haste ascended'.

Middleton, too, was impressed by Aden's fortifications but was more concerned about the welcome he would receive. This corner of Arabia was under the nominal rule of the Ottoman Sultan, but most of the towns lay in the hands of unscrupulous local governors, whilst the mountainous interior had been carved into private fiefdoms by warring Arab tribesmen. Stopping a local craft, Middleton asked the Arabs on board whether the local Pasha was a good man. Their reply was ominous indeed. The last Pasha was 'very bad', the present was only 'a little better', and the Turks in general were 'stark naught'. Middleton's mind was made up; instructing Downton to anchor the
Darling
off the coast of Aden, he decided to sail to the Red Sea port of Mocha and try his chances there.

It was a decision he would soon come to regret for as he edged the
Trades Increase
towards the town's harbour the enormous ship stuck fast on a sand bank and could not be moved. This put Middleton in a quandary; the only possibility of refloating her was to unload everything on board, but to land goods without an on-shore factory ran contrary to Company policy. Fortunately the local governor, a renegade Greek named Rejib Aga, was most obliging. When Middleton sent a message explaining that he was an English merchant in need of assistance he received answer that 'if we were Englishmen we were heartily welcome, and should not fail of that we look for.'

There was more good news to follow: Laurence Femell, the expedition's amply girthed chief factor, had struggled ashore in a rowing boat and managed to strike a beneficial trading deal with the governor. To celebrate this deal Rejib Aga invited Middleton to an extravagant banquet at which he heaped honour after honour upon the English commander, which an increasingly embarrassed Middleton felt obliged to accept. After being assured of 'good and peaceable trade', Sir Henry might have hoped that this exaggerated display of Oriental politesse was drawing to a close. In fact Rejib Aga had scarcely begun. After offering a waterfront house for the English to use as a base, 'he caused me to stand up, and one of his chiefe men put upon my backe a vest of crimson silke and silver, saying, I needed not to doubt of any evill; for that was the Grand Seignor's protection. After some few complements I took my leave: I was mounted upon a gallant horse with rich furniture, a great man leading my horse; and so in my new coate with the musicke of the towne, conveyed to the English house.'

The next few days passed most pleasantly. The Aga sent daily messages to Middleton 'willing me to be merry' and promising that as soon as Ramadan had come to an end the two men would ride together in his private pleasure gardens. Middleton's initial scepticism as to the Aga's sincerity evaporated with these sugar-coated pleasantries and — foolishly — he took the Aga's words at face value.

On 28 October 1610, he rowed ashore in order to stretch his legs and stroll around the town. It was a glorious evening; the sky had been cloudless all day and Middleton proceeded to the English house in order to watch the desert sun sink slowly into the Red Sea. 'The sunne being set I caused stooles to be set at the doore where my selfe, Master Femell and Master Pemberton sat to take the fresh aire, suspecting nothing of the present ensuing harm that did befalle us.' At eight o'clock a messenger arrived from the governor but because none of the Englishmen present spoke Arabic he was sent away. Soon after he returned with an interpreter who informed Middleton that Rejib Aga's message was simply that the English should make themselves merry. Taking the governor at his word Middleton uncorked a bottle of Madeira and handed it around to his friends, but they had scarcely had time to toast each other before there was a loud bang on the door: 'My man returnes in great feare telling us we were all betrayed: for that the Turkes and my people were by the eares at the backe of the house.' Middleton dashed inside to warn the crew of the danger and to urge them to fortify the house as quickly as possible:

But whiles I was thus speaking I was strooke upon the
head downe to the ground by one which came