Sir Thomas Smith was urgent in his efforts to induce the Directors of the East India Company to take up the question of a northern passage to Cathay, but they were lacking in enthusiasm. At last, in July 1601, the question appeared on the Minutes. It was not until January 1602, however, that the Directors were induced to pass a resolution that “this Company has an express interest in a voyage to discover a north-west passage” and that ships were to be got ready with all expedition.
Two vessels, the Discovery and Godspeed, were fitted out and provisioned for 16 months. The command was given to Captain Weymouth, who sailed from Ratcliffe on the 2nd May, 1602. But there was a mutiny headed by the Chaplain, a Mr Cartwright81, and Weymouth was forced to return. At first the Directors resolved to make another attempt, with Weymouth in command of one ship, but most of the Directors were lukewarm, and on January 26th, 1603, it was resolved that the voyage should be given up.
Sir Thomas Smith, in spite of the obstruction of his colleagues, continued to press the Arctic question on their notice, and at last succeeded in obtaining grants in aid. In this way an expedition was fitted out under the command of John Knight, an able and experienced seaman who had commanded the little pinnace Katten in the first Danish expedition to Greenland in 1605, and after whom Captain Hall had named the Knight Islands82. He now had the Hopewell of 40 tons with Edward Gorrell as his mate, and sailed from Gravesend under the auspices of the Muscovy Company on the 18th April, 1606. Leaving the Orkneys on the 12th May, the first ice was sighted on the 3rd June and after a dangerous collision with an iceberg, the Hopewell reached the coast of Labrador near the position of Nain in 56° 48′ N. Here Knight’s journal ends abruptly on June 26th83.
It is from another source that we learn the remainder of the story. The Hopewell seems to have got as far as the entrance to Hudson’s Strait, and was anchored in a bay. Captain Knight, his brother, the mate Gorrell, and three men landed on an island six miles from the ship. They were well armed and carried instruments to make a survey. It was in the forenoon. The boat was to wait for them, with two men, the trumpeter and one Oliver Brunel. The Captain’s party walked over a hill and were never seen or heard of again. Presently a crowd of natives came over the hill and tried to seize the boat, but the two men shoved her off. Search was useless, and the survivors were in great distress, for the Hopewell had damaged her rudder and had sprung a serious leak. The crew constructed a temporary rudder with the pintles made of iron bands off the Captain’s chest. For the leak they took the main bonnet, thrummed it with oakum and passed it over the place. Worn out with watching and hard work, they at length reached Dartmouth in September 1606. This sequel of the sad story was written in the Captain’s journal book by Oliver Brunel, one of the boat keepers84.
Four years elapsed before Sir Thomas Smith could get his colleagues together to enter upon the risk of another expedition. But in 1610, together with his patriotic friends Sir Dudley Digges, Sir James Lancaster, Sir Francis Jones, and Sir John Wolstenholme, he arranged another voyage of discovery. Several noblemen and others also joined in the venture.
That renowned sailor Henry Hudson had returned from the discovery of the river which bears his name, and was at once selected to command the new expedition. His ship was the Discovery of 55 tons. Hudson, as the event proved, was unwise in his selection of men to serve in the expedition85. He took Juet, a treacherous rascal, as mate, whose character he ought to have known, as he had been in his second and third expeditions. Once more he took his young son Jack, who had just reached the age of 17. Out of a complement of 23 there were not more than half a dozen men who could be depended on, when the time for testing them came. The object of the expedition was to seek a passage by the wide opening pointed out by Davis, where a “furious overfall” is marked on the Molyneux globe.
Sailing from Greenhithe on the 22nd April, 1610, the Discovery made a prosperous voyage to Iceland, where there were the first signs of insubordination; Green, who appears to have been a man of thoroughly bad character, having assaulted and beaten the surgeon. Hudson made sail from Iceland and shaped a course direct for the opening indicated by Davis. He then navigated his ship down the strait which bears his name, with little or no obstruction from ice, until the entrance to the great bay was reached—the Mediterranean of America as it has been called—which was ever afterwards to be known as Hudson’s Bay. The island on the south side of the entrance was named Digges and it was observed that myriads of birds were breeding there. Hudson’s journal unfortunately comes to an end on the 3rd of August, the day the Discovery arrived off Cape Digges. The story is continued by Habakuk Prickett, whose narrative, that of an unscrupulous time-server, is open to suspicion, besides being confused and unsatisfactory. During the three months following the arrival off Cape Digges, it is not clear what Hudson was doing, or what course he took.
Hudson must certainly have discovered all the east coast of Hudson’s Bay, for in November he found himself obliged to winter in the south-eastern part, now called James Bay. There were fir trees on shore, yielding plenty of fuel, and some game to eke out the stock of provisions on board. The ship was frozen in. A spirit of mutiny and discontent appeared during the long and dreary nights, which was fostered by one or two designing villains. The mate Juet had been disrated for misconduct and the vindictive old man was ripe for mischief. Green was only too glad to join in any mutinous conspiracy, and William Wilson, who had superseded Clements as boatswain, was not behindhand in disloyalty. It is probable that at first the conspiracy was confined to these three. There were privations during the winter, and John Williams, the gunner, fell ill and died. The provisions had run very low, but Hudson hoped to obtain a sufficient supply for the return voyage by salting down birds at Cape Digges. On the 18th of June, 1611, the Discovery broke out of winter quarters, and a course was shaped for Hudson’s Strait.
Meanwhile the conspirators, who had been joined by three of the seamen, Thomas, Pierce, and Moter, matured their diabolical plan. They thought, or pretended to think, that there would not be enough food to take them to England, and they conceived the infamous scheme of turning the sick and weak adrift in a boat, to reduce the number of mouths. As they knew that Hudson and the few loyal men would not consent to this, they included them among their intended victims. The murderers had kept their secret well, and there was no suspicion of the plot. Prickett must be included among the criminals. He says that Green and Wilson came to his bunk three days after the ship left winter quarters, assuring him that the course they proposed to take was unavoidable. He asserts that he entreated them to desist, but he never gave information to his Captain, and was evidently a time-serving rascal. Being a servant of Sir Dudley Digges the conspirators spared him to tell lies for them on their return.
The day was fixed and the mutineers passed the greater part of the night in whispered talk, arranging details, and going to Mathews the cook and others to gain them over. Staffe, the carpenter, slept on the poop. In the morning they were on deck, standing at the hatchway, waiting for the Captain to come up. Hudson was entirely without suspicion. He got up as usual, and, stepping on the deck, was seized by Thomas and Bennet Mathews the cook, while W. Wilson tied his hands behind his back. The unfortunate captain struggled and called for help and Staffe the carpenter and two other loyal men ran to his assistance, only to be overpowered by the mutineers, who had got possession of the ship. The shallop, an open boat, was then hauled up alongside. The poor sick men were pulled out of their berths, and forced into the boat, including Mr Woodhouse. Hudson when he saw what was intended, as a last hope called upon Prickett to remonstrate with the mutineers, but the rascal kept in his berth, shamming illness, and said not a word. Staffe, the carpenter, would have been allowed to remain, but he declared that he would rather die with true men than live as the associate of cowards. He got into the boat with his chest. Then young Hudson, who had been his father’s companion in all his voyages, was dragged out of his berth and forced into the boat. Arnold Ladley, another good man and true, went into the boat rather than remain with such infamous wretches, giving his candid opinion of them as he went over the side. John King, another loyal man, also got into the boat; Captain Hudson followed. The shallop was cast adrift with nine men crowded into her, one fowling-piece, some powder and shot, an iron pot, and a little meal.
One of the sick alone deserved his fate, a man named Michael Butt. He had readily agreed to the captain and his son being cast adrift, and so thought he was safe. But Mathews the cook declared that his chum, Sylvanus Bond, should not go, so Butt, kicking and struggling, cursing and swearing, was forced into the boat in Bond’s place.
The ship stood clear of the ice, and then hove to while the mutineers ransacked the captain’s cabin. This aroused a hope in the minds of the forlorn men in the boat that the villains had relented. They pulled with all their might and soon came close to the ship again. But they were doomed to cruel disappointment. As they came alongside, the mainsail was let run, yards braced to the wind, and topsails hoisted. The murderers fled as if from an enemy. Hudson and his doomed companions were never heard of more.
Thirteen remained on board, with different degrees of guilt. Juet, Green, W. Wilson, Moter, Pierce, Thomas and Mathews were criminals of the worst type. Bylot, who was made captain, and Prickett were criminal consenting parties through cowardice. Francis Clements was equally criminal. Bond the cooper, and Edward Wilson the surgeon were less guilty, and the boy Sims was probably not to blame.
On the 29th July, 1611, the Discovery hove to off Cape Digges and the five ringleaders went on shore unarmed. They were met by a party of Eskimos. Two were bartering for venison, two were picking sorrel, one was boat-keeper. Suddenly the savages attacked them. All were mortally wounded as they were tumbling into the boat. Green was killed outright; the others lingered for a few days, but all died. Never was retribution so quick, sudden, and complete.
Bylot took charge and there were seven other survivors, Clements, Prickett, Mathews, Bond, E. Wilson, Moter and the boy Sims. They shot about 300 birds off Cape Digges, and put themselves on an allowance of half a bird a day and a little meal; Mathews the cook keeping the birds’ bones and frying them in candle-grease. Bylot after clearing Hudson Strait shaped a course for Ireland. The last bird was in the steep tub when they sighted Dursey Island and anchored in Bere Haven. Bylot and Prickett hurried up to London to report. They must have told some uncommonly clever lies, for no proceedings were taken and both were employed again.
Henry Hudson was a great seaman and an enthusiastic discoverer. His two well-conducted voyages in the Spitsbergen quadrant led to most important results and his discovery of the Hudson River was equally memorable in its consequences. In his last fatal voyage he discovered Hudson’s Bay. He was a great and a good man, though not quite on the same plane with Davis and Baffin. A younger son of Hudson received employment from the East India Company on the ground that “his father had perished in the service of his country.”
Sir Thomas Smith and his colleagues had continued their efforts for the supply of funds for Arctic discovery during the absence of Hudson, and they bore fruit. The promoters sued to be incorporated as a Company to be called “The Governor and Company of the Merchants of London, Discoverers of the North-west Passage.” The Common Seal had on one side the royal arms with the Company’s title round it, on the other three ostrich feathers, having Jurat ire per altum across and Tibi serviat ultima thule round them. Sir Thomas Smith was appointed the first Governor. With him were Sir Dudley Digges, Sir Francis Jones, Sir James Lancaster, Sir John Wolstenholme, Sir E. Mansell, Sir W. Cockayne, and Richard Wyche as Directors; Sir A. Dawes, Richard Hakluyt, the Earls of Salisbury, Southampton, Nottingham, and other nobles and a long list of others, were venturers. The date of the Charter was July 26th, 1612. Young Prince Henry of Wales took a deep interest in the undertaking as is shown by the ostrich feathers on the obverse of the seal; and, in consultation with his friend Sir Walter Raleigh, he drafted and signed the instructions for the first voyage. He was our Prince Henry the Navigator86.
The object of the first voyage of the Company was to follow up the work left incomplete by Hudson. Two vessels were selected, fitted out, and supplied with provisions for 18 months. An officer of tried valour and experience named Thomas Button was entrusted with the command, and the undertaking was under the special patronage of Prince Henry. Thomas Button was the son of Miles Button of Duffryn in Glamorganshire, whose family had been seated there for seven generations. Thomas was born at Duffryn and went to sea in 1592. He was in the West Indies with Captain Newport in 1603, and commanded a king’s ship in 1609. Button’s ship for the expedition to Hudson’s Bay was the Resolution, the second ship being the Discovery under Captain Ingram. A relation named Gibbons, and a friend named Hawkridge accompanied him, while Bylot and Prickett, whose lies had prevented their cowardly acquiescence in the mutiny against Hudson from being found out, were both on board the Resolution.
The expedition reached Cape Digges without encountering any difficulties from ice in Hudson Strait, and remained there three weeks in order to put a pinnace together that had been taken out in pieces. Button then entered Hudson’s Bay and proceeded westward, discovering the southern coast of Southampton Island and the off-lying islets, to one of which he gave the name of Mansell Island after his relation Admiral Sir Edward Mansell, to another “Cary’s Swan’s Nest,” to a third “Hopes Checked,” because there his expectation of making progress received a check. Bad weather came on, and late in August Button sought refuge in a small creek on the western side of Hudson’s Bay, which was named Port Nelson after the master of the Resolution, who died and was buried there. Button was thus the discoverer of the western side of Hudson’s Bay as Hudson was of the eastern side. Button determined to winter at Port Nelson, and at once set his people to work to procure as much game as possible. They got in a large supply of ptarmigan, but the winter was very severe and, although they had fresh food, the health of the men suffered from the intense cold. It is interesting to find how important the amusement of the crews and the occupation of their minds during the Arctic winters was considered from the very first. We have seen how Barentsz arranged a Twelfth-night entertainment. Button kept the men’s minds employed by requiring them to answer questions respecting the expedition and its objects, and by thus interesting them in the work on which they were engaged.
In June, 1613, the ice broke up, and the ship left winter quarters and reached Cape Digges. In returning by Hudson Strait it was discovered that the land on which Cape Chidley is situated is an island, and the ships passed through the strait which is thus formed. The expedition returned to England in the autumn of 1613. Button’s relation, Captain Gibbons, started on another expedition in 1614, with Bylot as his mate in the Discovery. Before he could enter Hudson Strait he was driven by the ice into a bay on the coast of Labrador where he remained for 20 weeks and then returned home. The crew called the bay “Gibbons his Hole.”
Button’s journal was never published, and we are indebted to Luke Foxe, a later explorer, for all the information that has reached us respecting his voyage. In 1618 he was in command on the coast of Ireland. He was Rear Admiral in the fleet of Sir Edward Mansell, which was sent against the Algerine pirates in 1620, and in 1623 he was again employed in suppressing piracy. He became Admiral Sir Thomas Button, married Mary, daughter of Sir Walter Rice of Dynevor and, dying in April 1634, left a son who succeeded him at Duffryn.
The expedition of Sir Thomas Button to Hudson’s Bay was ably conducted, and resulted in considerable additions to geographical knowledge.