like to die than to live', they refused to obey his orders and decided to head for England. Lancaster was reluctantly forced to agree. Short of food and plagued with cockroaches, they safely rounded the Cape of Good Hope and, with the wind in their favour, headed straight to the island of St Helena where a group of men rowed ashore. Ever since the failure of Edward Fenton's mad scheme to proclaim himself king the island had been deserted. Ships occasionally stopped at the island to stock up on the 'excellent good greene figs, oranges, and lemons very faire', and the crew of one passing vessel had seen fit to construct a makeshift chapel on the island; but for the greater part of the year the island was uninhabited. It was with considerable surprise, therefore, and not a little fear, that Lancaster's men heard a ghostly chant emerging from the chapel. Kicking open the door, 'we found an Englishman, a tailor, who had been there 14 months.' His name was John Segar and he had been cast ashore the previous year by the captain of the Merchant Royal who, realising he was at death's door, reasoned that he stood a greater chance of survival on land than aboard the ship. But although the months on the island had cured his body, the loneliness, boredom and heat had begun to addle his mind. 'We found him to be as fresh in colour and in as good plight of body to our seeming as he might be,' wrote one witness, 'but crazed in mind and half out of his wits, as afterwards we perceived; for whether he were put in fright of us, not knowing at first what we were, whether friends or foe, or of sudden joy when he understood we were his olde consorts and countrymen, he became idle-headed, and for eight days space neither night nor day took any naturall rest, and so at length died for lacke of sleep.'
The journey home should have been almost over but as the crew set sail for home the wind dropped once again and they spent six weeks drifting helplessly in the mid- Atlantic. At last the breeze stiffened and Lancaster, who had by now recovered, suggested they let the winds carry them to the West Indies where they could obtain much-needed provisions. A chance encounter with a French ship enabled them to replenish their supplies of wine and bread but it was to be their last stroke of good fortune. A sudden storm arose which grew so fierce that 'it carried not only our sailes away, but also made much water in our shippe, so that wee had six foote water in holde'. The ship limped towards the outpost island of Mona and, relieved to have reached land, all but five of the crew rowed ashore. It was the last they would ever see of the Edward Bonaventure: at around midnight the ship's carpenter cut the moorings and, with a skeleton crew and a good measure of self-confidence, sailed off into the night leaving Lancaster and his men stranded.
Almost a month passed before a French ship was spotted on the horizon. Hastily lighting a bonfire to attract her attention the crew were eventually picked up and offered the passage home. By the time Lancaster and the pitiful remnants of his crew arrived back in England they had been away for three years, six weeks, and two days.
The voyage had proved a human and financial disaster. Of the 198 men who rounded the Cape, only 25 returned alive. Worse still, two of the three ships had been lost and the one that did manage to limp into port was carrying not spices but scurvy. Lancaster had proved — if proof was needed - that the spice trade involved risks that London's merchants could ill afford. It was not until they learned that the Dutch had entered the spice race, and achieved a remarkable success, that they would consider financing a new expedition to the islands of the East Indies.
The Dutch expedition had been planned in the utmost secrecy. For more than three years the inhabitants of Amsterdam's Warmoestraat, a genteel neighbourhood close to the city's main square, had watched an unusual amount of activity at the
The journey home should have been almost over but as the crew set sail for home the wind dropped once again and they spent six weeks drifting helplessly in the mid- Atlantic. At last the breeze stiffened and Lancaster, who had by now recovered, suggested they let the winds carry them to the West Indies where they could obtain much-needed provisions. A chance encounter with a French ship enabled them to replenish their supplies of wine and bread but it was to be their last stroke of good fortune. A sudden storm arose which grew so fierce that 'it carried not only our sailes away, but also made much water in our shippe, so that wee had six foote water in holde'. The ship limped towards the outpost island of Mona and, relieved to have reached land, all but five of the crew rowed ashore. It was the last they would ever see of the Edward Bonaventure: at around midnight the ship's carpenter cut the moorings and, with a skeleton crew and a good measure of self-confidence, sailed off into the night leaving Lancaster and his men stranded.
Almost a month passed before a French ship was spotted on the horizon. Hastily lighting a bonfire to attract her attention the crew were eventually picked up and offered the passage home. By the time Lancaster and the pitiful remnants of his crew arrived back in England they had been away for three years, six weeks, and two days.
The voyage had proved a human and financial disaster. Of the 198 men who rounded the Cape, only 25 returned alive. Worse still, two of the three ships had been lost and the one that did manage to limp into port was carrying not spices but scurvy. Lancaster had proved — if proof was needed - that the spice trade involved risks that London's merchants could ill afford. It was not until they learned that the Dutch had entered the spice race, and achieved a remarkable success, that they would consider financing a new expedition to the islands of the East Indies.
The Dutch expedition had been planned in the utmost secrecy. For more than three years the inhabitants of Amsterdam's Warmoestraat, a genteel neighbourhood close to the city's main square, had watched an unusual amount of activity at the
Similar Books
