In the winter of 1574 Gilbert received a visit at Limehouse from George Gascoigne, the poet. "Well, Sir Humphrey, how do you spend your time in this loitering vacation from martial stratagems?" asked the poet.
"Come into my writing-room, George, and you shall see sundry profitable exercises which I have perfected with my pen—and that of my half-brother, Walter Raleigh." Thereupon Gilbert put into his friend's hands the celebrated Discourse on the North-west Passage.
As Gascoigne read the concluding words: "If your Majesty like to do it all, then would I wish your Highness to consider that delay doth oftentimes prevent the performance of good things, for the wings of man's life are plumed with the feathers of death," he turned and said with a laugh, "It is easy for a rhymester to see that Walter, the poet, writ those words. But suffer me to take it home: such good stuff asketh some study."
The manuscript of the Discourse was handed about in influential quarters, and that very winter the Queen reminded the Governor and Directors of the Muscovy Company that twenty years had passed since they last sent out an expedition to search for Cathay. It was Martin Frobisher who bore the Queen's letter to the Governor; and when the Company declined to find a North-west Passage, the Queen granted a licence to Frobisher and others to search for the same. But the initial impulse had been given by Sir Humphrey Gilbert and Walter Raleigh.
Various schemes these restless adventurers proposed to the Queen, but it was not until June 1578 that a charter was granted to Gilbert for discovering and possessing any distant and barbarous lands which he could find, provided they were not already claimed by any Christian prince or people. He was authorised to plant a colony and to be absolute governor both of the Englishmen and of the natives dwelling in it; and he was to rule, "as near as conveniently might be," in harmony with the laws and policy of England.
How swiftly Gilbert set about preparing his expedition! Fortunately long arrears of pay had lately been issued to him for his services in Ireland. All this he lavished on his ships and their provision, leaving his little wife but a slender margin to live upon. But his faith was so strong in his theories that he dared to risk almost all he had.
Friends came round him, eager to help and—not least—to share the profits of the expedition; among these were Walter and George Raleigh, George and William Carew, Denny, his cousin, Nowell and Morgan. But best of all, the Queen wished him all good success; for she had sent two of her own kinsmen, Henry and Francis, sons of Sir Francis Knollys, to join him on the expedition.
By the end of summer, 1578, Gilbert's fleet of eleven sail, manned by five hundred young gentlemen and sailors, seemed ready for sea as it lay at anchor between the wooded cliffs that girdle the Dart.
But a strange discord was already making Gilbert's life bitter to him; there were too many masters in that little fleet, and petty bickerings spoilt the voice of authority and command.
Naturally, the common seamen took their cue from their betters. They were for the most part reckless men who had broken out of prison; blasphemers and ruffians who had been tempted to volunteer from sheer love of piracy.