James Cook's New World Page 2

  The Sea Lord led them towards another arched entranceway. A scarlet-jacketed doorkeeper stood at the foot of the steps leading up to it, a pikestaff in one hand. Sandwich gave the man their names and he nodded, clearly expecting them. Then he said: ‘This way, my lord, sir, madam. His Majesty will meet you in the Forum Room.’

  As they entered the room, Elizabeth gasped. It was vast. Its ceiling was high, its walls a crimson shade, matching the carpet. Gold-painted cornices and skirting boards framed the room and an ornate chandelier hung from an elaborate ceiling rose. Three gold-panelled doors with wide architraves were set into the end wall. The inner wall contained an enormous fireplace, in front of which were four padded chairs with curved legs, one much larger than the others. Along the long wall were several portraits in oil of past monarchs, including Queen Anne and the two previous Hanoverians, George I and the present King’s grandfather, George II.

  ‘Please wait over there,’ instructed the doorman, pointing to the chairs. ‘I shall inform the King’s secretary that you are here.’ He vanished through one of the doors.

  There was an interlude of a minute or so, then the doorman and an elderly, bow-legged, white-stockinged man in an embroidered waistcoat and scarlet jacket appeared. He strode over to the waiting trio, bowed, and declared solemnly: ‘Good day, my lord, sir, madam. You are to remain standing until His Majesty is seated and I have introduced you.’ He inclined his head again. ‘You may then be seated.’

  ‘His most gracious Majesty, King George III.’

  The centre door opened and the monarch entered. The secretary walked behind him, bearing a circular silver tray on which was a large white envelope. The King strode across the room to where the others waited. He raised his chin in acknowledgement of the First Sea Lord.

  ‘Lord Sandwich, good day to you.’

  The Sea Lord bowed low, and bent his right knee. ‘Your Majesty, good day.’ Then he turned. ‘It is my great pleasure to present to you Lieutenant James Cook of Your Majesty’s Navy, and Mistress Cook.’

  As the King turned to James and Elizabeth, the royal portraits they had seen sprang to life. Below his wig his forehead was wide, his nose broad-bridged, his neck bullish. His eyes were blue and bulbous, his lips prominent and shapely. He looked younger than his 33 years, although he had already been on the throne for more than a decade. Around his shoulders was an outsized ermine cloak, covering a gold brocade jacket with enormous cuffs. Around his waist was a wide black belt, his hose was grey, his shoes white and pointed, with large gold buckles. His head looked too small for the body beneath it, so encumbered was it with clothing, particularly the all-embracing cloak.

  James bowed low and Elizabeth gave the monarch a much-practised curtsey, her face colouring as she did so. The King waved his hand towards the chairs. ‘Be seated, please. We have much to talk about.’ With the secretary hovering in the background, the King seated himself on the larger chair, then waited for the others to follow. Placing his hands on his knees, the King said distractedly, ‘Regrettably, the Queen could not join us this afternoon. Her fifth child is expected in a matter of days, so she has begun her lying-in.’ Elizabeth nodded sympathetically, while the two men reacted with suitably serious expressions. Leaning back in his chair, his eyes widening, the King said enthusiastically, ‘I have followed the reports of your circumnavigation with great interest, Lieutenant Cook. The observation of the Transit of Venus, your encounters with the Mah-or-Rees of New Zealand, Endeavour’s foundering on a reef in New Holland … A truly memorable voyage, by all accounts.’

  James nodded. ‘Indeed it was, Your Majesty. And it was my privilege to claim new lands for England. The Society Islands, New Zealand, New South Wales.’

  ‘Ah, yes.’ King George tilted his chin upwards and said, with just a hint of reproach, ‘But not the Great Southern Continent.’

  James hesitated before replying. This subject was such a vexed matter. Most believed it existed, as yet undiscovered and uncharted, and possessed of fabulous resources, somewhere in the Southern Hemisphere. Others, James among them, doubted its existence. Choosing his words carefully, he said, ‘There may be such a continent, Your Majesty, but until it is discovered it is not proven to exist.’ He paused. ‘We certainly found no evidence of it.’

  The King blinked. ‘Oh? But there must be such a landmass in the south hemisphere, surely, to counterbalance the continent of Europe and Asia.’ He half-closed his eyes. ‘Mr Banks and I discussed its probable existence when we met two weeks ago.’

  ‘The continent’s existence is a popular belief, Your Majesty,’ James conceded. ‘But it will take further exploratory expeditions to prove or disprove it.’

  ‘Quite so, quite so.’ The monarch leaned forward, his expression eager. ‘When will your journals of the voyage be published? I cannot wait to read them.’

  ‘I am in the process of writing them now, Your Majesty. But I have also had many reports to write for the Admiralty.’

  The King frowned. ‘Reports? Of what nature?’

  ‘The state of Endeavour, the potential of your new possessions, and the effects of diet in preventing scurvy at sea.’

  ‘Not one man was lost to scurvy on Cook’s ship during the three-year voyage,’ Lord Sandwich put in firmly.

  ‘So I have heard,’ said the King. ‘A unique record, I’m told, against the scurvy scourge.’ He clapped his hands like a child. ‘Excellent, excellent.’

  James nodded, thinking: but a great pity about the dozens who fell to dysentery, the flux, malaria and intoxication.

  The King sat back in his chair. ‘I have been highly entertained by Mr Banks’s accounts of the voyage. Especially of his time in Otaheite.’

  James blenched. It was as if Banks had been the commander of Endeavour, rather than merely a civilian botanist. But in this august company, and with Banks’s close friend sitting next to him, he could hardly mention this. Instead he said, ‘Mr Banks’s accounts certainly capture much of the expedition’s colour, Your Majesty.’

  The King nodded. ‘Yes, yes. I was particularly impressed with his accounts of the creatures of New Holland.’ He paused. ‘The bouncing marsupial, the kanga-row. Does it really carry its young in a pouch on its belly?’

  They talked for over half an hour, James replying to the King’s questions in detail, Elizabeth watching both men closely but remaining excluded from the conversation. At three-thirty tea was brought in on silver salvers by two servants and served in cups of Wedgwood china, but this only momentarily interrupted the flow of the men’s conversation. James then presented the monarch with a Maori jade-and-shell hei tiki, a carved necklet on a woven flax cord complete with a bone toggle. He explained that he had obtained it during the time they spent at Uawa, on New Zealand’s east coast.

  The King showed a lively interest in his newly acquired lands, particularly in the plants and animals of the South Sea, reminding James of his fondness for natural history. Some people referred to him affectionately as ‘Farmer George’ because of his interest in the crops and livestock at Sandringham, the royal estate in East Anglia. The subject then moved on to the native peoples the expedition had encountered. As it did so the King’s expression became deeply serious. Brow pleated, he said, ‘It seems to me, Lieutenant Cook, that the heathen savages you encountered in Otaheite, New Zealand, New Holland and elsewhere have a great need of the enlightenment which the Christian gospels would bring to them. To bring a halt to their savage customs, and their licentiousness.’

  James hesitated. He was aware that the King—unlike most of his predecessors—was a devout Christian and a faithful husband, but also that the native peoples had their own deities. And their own sexual liberalities. But how to explain this, at such a distance in place and circumstance? Attempting diplomacy, he said, ‘Some of them did seem curious as to the nature of our English beliefs and customs, Your Majesty.’

  ‘Then might they not be ripe for Christian conversion? To be shown the way of truth and light through the teachi
ngs of Christ our Saviour?’

  ‘Perhaps,’ said James, with deliberate vagueness.

  But the King’s eyes were now gleaming with evangelical fervour. Adjusting his cloak, then leaning towards James, he said, ‘I am of a mind to call for a meeting with the London Missionary Society, and perhaps the Archbishop of Canterbury, to see what steps we can take to initiate a crusading campaign in the South Sea. I will give the matter serious thought.’ He got to his feet. ‘And now, to the other business at hand.’ He beckoned the footman, who was still holding the silver tray. Picking up the envelope, the King handed it to James. ‘Your Royal Warrant, Cook, signed by myself, and all my Sea Lords.’ He nodded curtly. ‘You shall henceforth hold the rank of Captain James Cook, of my Navy.’

  While Elizabeth and Lord Sandwich looked on admiringly, James took the envelope with his left hand and shook the King’s proffered hand with the other. Then he bowed. ‘Thank you, Your Majesty. I will continue to serve you and England to the very best of my ability.’

  The King walked across to the door with his three guests. His mood clearly buoyant, he seemed unwilling to end their conversation. As James and Sandwich again bent their knees to their monarch, and Elizabeth curtseyed once more, the King put his hand on Sandwich’s shoulder and said sternly, ‘I am instructing the Admiralty to mount another expedition, Sandwich. To locate, chart and claim for England the Great Southern Continent.’ Turning to James, the monarch gave him an equally challenging look. ‘And I wish you, Captain Cook, to lead the new expedition.’

  Two

  ‘TWO MONTHS, JAMES. IT IS BARELY TWO MONTHS since you returned.’

  ‘I am well aware of that, Elizabeth.’

  ‘And now you are ordered to go on another prolonged expedition.’

  He met her resentful look. ‘I am. Because that is my duty. My sworn duty to the King, and the Admiralty.’

  She looked away, her expression one of distaste. ‘The Admiralty. That Lord Sandwich—’

  ‘What of him?’

  ‘I didn’t like him. He is lecherous.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Did you not notice the way his gaze kept falling on my breasts, and lingering there?’

  ‘I confess that I did not.’

  ‘Well I did, and it was horrible.’ She shuddered. ‘Were it not for the fact that we were in the King’s presence, I would have ordered him to desist.’

  James looked away. Sandwich was a rake, that was well known. But he certainly should not have ogled Elizabeth the way she said he had. No man had the right to do that to another man’s wife, especially in the husband’s presence. Sandwich carried with him a sense of entitlement through his elevated status, which he considered gave him a right to every woman he came across. Droit du seigneur, the French called this, and it was a right resented by every man who didn’t possess it.

  But on a professional level, Sandwich was the First Sea Lord and, as one of his officers, James was bound to obey his instructions. Moreover, the idea of another voyage of exploration had come from an even higher authority, the King himself. Albeit, James suspected, at the urging of Joseph Banks, who had become obsessed with the notion of a Great Southern Continent. On this matter, James was now in two minds. He recalled the conversation he had had with his friend and patron Sir Hugh Palliser shortly after Endeavour’s return. Palliser had written to James, congratulating him on the completion of his voyage and the news of his impending promotion. Gratified by Palliser’s good wishes, James had arranged for the two of them to meet at Will’s coffee house in Charing Cross.

  James had walked there from Wapping, along the river, and it was an agreeably warm summer morning. At Will’s they took a seat in a bay surrounded by open leadlight windows. Flower boxes hanging from their outside sills were crammed with scarlet geraniums. While they waited for their coffees, Palliser filled his pipe from a pigskin tobacco pouch and tamped it with his thumb. His face had filled out and his cheeks were flushed, but his eyes were as clear and beady as ever. He worked his flint, lit his pipe and puffed on it. For a few moments his face was enveloped in smoke. When it cleared he smiled broadly and said, ‘Well, Cook, at last I can congratulate you in person on your voyage and your promotion.’

  ‘Thank you, sir. And my congratulations to you on your promotion.’

  Palliser laughed sardonically. ‘Well, Comptroller of the Navy Board hardly compares with the command of a man-o’-war. I’m merely a bookkeeper in uniform, in command of ledgers and a desk.’ He puffed again. ‘HMS Mahogany, as you might say.’

  ‘But a vital role nevertheless, sir. Every naval commander is answerable to you.’

  Palliser grunted. ‘To the Board, rather.’ He set his pipe down. ‘Well, I’ve read all the reports of your voyage.’

  James smiled. ‘By all, sir, do you mean Banks’s?’

  ‘His, yes. And I’ve read too an interview with Dr Solander. And heard the stories circulating in the docks.’ He paused. ‘You know how the rumours and gossip fly down there. It must have been an eventful three years, if even half the stories are to be believed.’

  ‘Indeed it was. But my own journals will not be published until next year.’ He gave Palliser a pointed look. ‘Be assured, they will present a more sober account than Banks’s.’

  Palliser sniggered. ‘You mean yours will not include tales of carnally knowing dusky maidens amid the tropical forest in exchange for a ship’s nail?’

  ‘No. Venus will feature, but only in a planetary sense.’

  ‘Ha!’ Palliser puffed again on his pipe. ‘And your charting? It went well?’

  ‘The work was challenging, but was done to my satisfaction. The charts will also be published next year, I hope.’

  Palliser nodded approvingly. ‘Good. I’m sure they will prove invaluable.’ He gave James an inquiring look. ‘Banks mentioned that you named features of the New Zealand coast after naval people here. Hawke, Colville, Egmont. As well as after Banks himself. You named an island after him, he has informed the broadsheets.’

  ‘That is so. An island on the eastern coast of New Zealand’s larger, southern island.’ Seeing the serving girl approaching with their coffee, James leaned back. After she had set down their cups, he said, ‘And another landform I named after your good self, Captain.’

  Palliser looked up sharply. ‘Is that so? What and where?’

  ‘A cape, at the southern extremity of the northern island of New Zealand, the one called by the natives “Te Ika A Maui”. The promontory is at 41 degrees south latitude. We passed it in Endeavour on 12 February this year. Henceforth the landform will be known as Cape Palliser.’

  Palliser’s face flushed with pleasure. ‘That is an enormous compliment, Cook.’ He shrugged. ‘I don’t know what else to say, but I am flattered. Greatly flattered.’

  ‘It is a token of the esteem in which I hold you, sir. Given in gratitude for the support you have accorded me since I was a lowly able seaman. My first promotion, to HMS Pembroke, was given on your recommendation, remember.’

  ‘In recognition of your exceptional talents.’ Palliser took a mouthful of coffee and swallowed. ‘And now, to other developments.’ First glancing around, he said in a low but animated voice, ‘The City and the docks are in a ferment. Everyone in authority—the Admiralty, the Royal Society—is pressing for another voyage, one which it is hoped will be more triumphant than the first. The King too, I’ve heard, strongly supports the idea.’

  James nodded. ‘Yes, I’m aware of the agitation, and I’m willing to help mount an expedition. It should be got under way soonest, too, if we are to beat the French to more discoveries. Bougainville and the other Frenchman, de Surville, are back, after trespassing on our territories.’ He allowed a pause. ‘And there is other unfinished business, as I’m sure you’re well aware.’

  ‘The Great Southern Continent?’

  ‘Yes. The matter needs to be settled, one way or the other. Otherwise it will be never-ending.’

  Palliser reached int
o the document case which he had placed under the table, and drew out a rolled chart. ‘I assume you haven’t yet seen this publication.’

  James frowned. ‘What is it?’

  Palliser unrolled it before James’s astonished eyes. It was a copy of a chart. Entitled ‘The Extent of the Southern Hemisphere and Terra Australis Incognita’, it showed the South Atlantic and the South Pacific Oceans, joined by an enormous landmass, into which was set a great bay named Gulf of San Sebastian. A promontory, named Cape Circumcision, protruded from the landmass’s Atlantic aspect.

  Shaking his head in disbelief, James said, ‘This is surely a fantasy, sir, based on the alleged discovery of Cape Circumcision by the Frenchman, Bouvet, in 1739. And combined with the Abraham Ortelius map.’

  ‘Of 1587. Before Cape Horn was even charted. Quite so. And look at the name of the artist.’

  Peering at the signature in the bottom right-hand corner, James read, ‘Alexander Dalrymple.’ He cast the chart aside in disgust. ‘That man is a menace to exploration.’

  Palliser chuckled. ‘Yes. But he is still trying to convince the authorities that he is the man to lead an expedition to discover the Great Southern Continent.’ Seeing James’s dismayed reaction, he put a hand on his arm. ‘Don’t worry, no one in the Admiralty takes Dalrymple seriously. He is not one of us, and he never has been. He is merely a merchant mariner with a fevered imagination. Now, the next voyage—’

  They talked at length about what yet needed to be achieved. Both agreed that the matter of the undiscovered continent needed to be wholly settled. Then James summed up his experiences for his naval colleague: ‘We sailed south-west from Cape Horn for 40 leagues, as far as 50 degrees south, and found not a trace of a landmass. Then from Otaheite we sailed due south as far as 40 degrees and found likewise. Only empty ocean.’

  Palliser considered this, then replied cautiously, ‘So if the continent does exist, it must lie west of Cape Horn and east of New Zealand, or in the South Atlantic, east to New Holland.’