Nathaniel's nutmeg (33 page)

In mid-February the men at last left Sana'a for the long
march back to Mocha. Middleton still had niggling doubts
as to the Pasha's sincerity but any fears about returning to
Mocha were dispelled when he was told that 'if Rejib Aga
wrong you I will pull his skinne over his eares and give you
his head.' On their arrival atTaiz, the men hoped to recover
Mr Pemberton's boy who had been lodged with the town's
governor since collapsing through weakness. But herein lay
a problem: 'the governor, Hamet Aga, had forced him to
turne Turke, and would by no meanes part with him.' The
poor boy had suffered a terrible ordeal during his weeks
with the governor: when he refused to convert to Islam,
'some of the Aga's servants [carried] him to a hot-house
where they had him naked circumcised perforce.' The
governor steadfastly refused to give up his boy and the
Englishmen had no option but to continue without him,
but Middleton, to his great credit, never forgot the boy and
refused to sail from Arabia until he had been released.

On his arrival in Mocha, Middleton was taken straight
to the Aga who 'received me after his wonted dissembled
shew of love and kindnesse, bidding me and the rest
welcome, saying he was glad of our returne safe, and sorrie
and ashamed of what was passed, and prayed me to pardon
him'. But long before the Englishmen were able to return
to their ship they found themselves marched to a 'great
strong house' and once again placed under armed guard. Sir
Henry's suspicions had proved all too correct and he now
knew that escape was his only option. His plan was a simple
one: under cover of darkness he sent a letter to the
Trades
Increase
asking that a bottle of aqua vitae be smuggled into
the prison. With this he planned to get his guards drunk,
steal their keys and, aware that his face was well known
throughout the town, hide himself in an empty barrel and
get his men to roll him down to the beach.

The hour at last arrived. The aqua vitae was successfully
smuggled into prison and a boat surreptitiously moored on
the southern edge of town. When the guards saw they were
being offered alcohol they were unable to refuse and 'fell to
drinking hard'. By noon everything was ready: 'the boat
being come, and keepers all drunk, and all things fitted
. .
.
I began to put my business in execution.' Unlocking the
door to their'strong house', Sir Henry popped into a barrel
as planned and was rolled down to the beach where he
clambered into
the waiting boat
and rowed across to the
Darling
which
was
riding at
anchor.

Not everyone
had been
so lucky: the ships' armourer,
Thomas Eves, was
so
fearful of being recaptured that he
'took off his shoes and ran through the streets with all the
speed he could, whereupon all the towne rise after him'. It
was only a matter of minutes before Mocha was crowded
with soldiers who, one by one, picked up the sick and
wounded. Lawrence Femell soon found himself in
difficulty. Unable to run because of his 'unwieldy fatness' he
was hounded by a band of troops as he waddled down to
the waterfront. He 'discharged a pistoll in the face of one
of them that pursued him, and mortally wounded him' but
was eventually captured while up to his armpits in water.
He later blamed 'the foolish dealing of that idiot and white-
livered fellow the coxswain who, we being in the water
..
.
fell to leeward of us'. The capture of Femell was a set­back, but Middleton was safe and after offering his thanks
to God 'for his great mercy towards us' he joined the
celebrations on board the English vessels.

He was now in a strong position to gain the freedom of
Master Femell, Nathaniel Courthope and the other men,
including poor Mr Pemberton's boy who was still
incarcerated in Taiz. Sending a letter to Rejib Aga, he
bragged of his powerful cannon and threatened that unless
all the men were
immediately
released he would sink
every ship that entered
the
port 'and do my best to batter
the towne
about his ears'.
He
also
wrote
a
reassuring letter
to Femell
repeating the threat
and adding that 'if
I
shoot at
the town he
saith he will requite me
with the
like,
which
he cannot do as you well know for his
ordnance is far
inferior to mine . . . Though I should fire the
town and
beat
it smooth about their ears, whether it be
pleasing or
displeasing to the Grand Seignor I care not, [for] I am out
of reach of his long sword ... let the Pasha and Regib Aga
likewise consider that the King of England will not take
well the betraying, robbing and murdering of his subjects.'

The Aga stalled for time but after his port had been
blockaded for a month he was forced to 'sing a new song'
and all the men were released. Master Femell did not, alas,
enjoy his freedom for long; three days after coming aboard
'at about two of the clock in the morning he ended his life,
as we thought, by poison.' He had bragged once too often
about the power of the English and the enraged Aga,
knowing that the chief factor never turned down a meal,
had dosed his food with delayed-action poison.

With the safe return of Mr Pemberton's boy everyone
still alive was back on board. The sixth fleet of the East
India Company could at long last continue on its voyage to
the Banda Islands.

It was now August 1611, and the fleet which had set sail
with such high expectations some sixteen months
previously had so far accomplished nothing. If the crew
were dispirited by their misfortunes the captains were even
more depressed. A rare insight into this depression has
survived in the form of a private memo that Downton
penned at the height of the troubles; a memo given added
poignancy by the fact that its tone so belies the brave
good-humour that Downton struggled to present to his
crew. In private he was 'environed with swarms of
perplexed thoughts' that now, 'after two years travel [we
find] our victuals spent, our ships, cables and furniture far
worn, men's wages for 24 months already passed, ourselves
deluded and abused in most places we have
come
....
Whether we wish a languishing end, or a shameful return,

God only direct, for our counsel is weak and our case
doubtful.'

Before sailing from Mocha the two captains took stock
of the situation. Their overriding duty was to sail to the
Banda Islands to buy nutmeg and mace, but their
instructions from the Company allowed them to sail first to
India to discover how William Hawkins was faring at the
court of Jehangir. They chose this latter option and headed
for Surat, but when Middleton learned that trade had been
denied he once again put to sea, taking Hawkins with him.
Fuming at Jehangir's intransigence, the commander decided

to sail back to the Red Sea and there compel the Indian
dhows to sell their cottons to the English. The benefits
would be threefold: the Aga in Mocha would be infuriated
by the loss of trade, the Indians would be roundly punished
and Middleton would acquire the calicoes he so desperately
needed to exchange for nutmeg and mace.

It was unfortunate that just as Middleton's ships were
setting up their blockade of the Bab-el-Mandeb, the
entrance to the Red Sea, John Saris, commander of the
East India Company's seventh fleet, was nudging his way
towards Mocha. Saris brought with him a letter of
recommendation from the Sultan in Constantinople and,
ignoring Middleton's warnings about trade with the Arabs,
he sailed gaily into the harbour at Mocha. Lavishly
entertained by the new Aga — Rejib had since been
dismissed — he struck a deal and sent a mission to Sana'a to
pay its respects to the Pasha.

When the Aga learned that Middleton was 'rommaging'
ships from India he was incensed and immediately annulled
the trading deal he had granted to Saris. The English
captain protested in the strongest terms and offered
repeated assurances that he was not in league with
Middleton, but the Aga refused to believe such a story. Saris
now turned his fury on Middleton, boarding the
Trades
Increase
and berating Sir Henry for his stupidity. He vowed
to do everything in his power to break Middleton's
blockade, 'wherat Sir Henry swore most deeply that if I did
take that course he would sink me and set fire of all such
ships as traded with me'. What followed was an explosive
row in which the two commanders 'used very grosse
speeches not fitting to men of their ranks, and were so
crosse the one to the other as if they had been enemies.' The two men did eventually strike a deal in which they
shared the spoils of the 'rommaging', but Saris's heart was
not in the work and he soon set sail for Bantam without
paying Middleton the usual compliment of a parting salute.
Sir Henry was as angry as he was upset. Realising that his
policy of harming the Aga was futile he sailed for Sumatra
and Java, finally anchoring in the great harbour at Bantam.
Here the East India Company's sixth fleet, which had set
out with such high hopes, floundered in the malarial
shallows. The
Trades Increase
was discovered to be riddled
with teredos (shipworm) and no longer seaworthy, while
the crew had fared little better: dozens succumbed to
typhoid, dysentery and malaria and died on board their
rotting flagship.