Sir Walter Raleigh took over his half-brother’s patent. Since there was no limit placed on the land to be explored and occupied, except that it should not be already occupied by another Christian prince, Raleigh had wide latitude in choosing a theatre for his operations. Newfoundland didn’t appeal to him. It wasn’t the most favorable site for what he had in mind.
The survivors of Sir Humphrey’s ill-fated expedition had been thoroughly interrogated; obviously it wasn’t silver that had been mined in Newfoundland. After all, precious metals didn’t come from the bleak coasts of the north, but from the warmer regions of the south where the Spaniards had discovered them. And that suited Raleigh’s purpose, as much as the rising hope that a passage to the Indian Ocean might also lie in those parts where Verrazano once claimed to have actually sighted the other sea. Those southern coasts were near New Spain!
For, what Raleigh really had in mind was a site close to the route of the Spanish treasure galleons. He wanted an English outpost, a garrisoned base, within easy striking distance of the silver fleets. That was the quickest way to riches and the surest means of destroying the power of Spain. The Caribbean was the Spaniard’s Achilles’ heel.
The first step in the achievement of this purpose was to be the planting of a colony.
A reconnaissance expedition, sent out by the southern route in 1584, chose the vicinity of Albemarle and Pamlico Sounds near Hatteras for the settlement. Curiously, however, this party failed to recognize the poor harbor and stormy hazards of the location. Possibly it was just the first agreeable site they came upon as they coasted north from the borders of Spanish-held Florida. If they had gone on just a little farther they would have found Chesapeake Bay, a likely spot indeed.
In that case Virginia, as Raleigh called the new country in honor of his “virgin” queen, might have been successfully planted in the sixteenth rather than the seventeenth century.
However the reconnaissance expedition suggested Roanoke Island, near Cape Hatteras, bringing back glowing reports of the country, a few dark pearls and a good quantity of soft furs. “Chamoys, Buffe, and Deere skinnes” had been taken in trade with the friendly natives. A single bright tin dish given in barter had gained twenty skins, each worth all of a crown, and a copper kettle had gained as many as fifty. The voyagers also brought back two of the native inhabitants who were as anxious to please the white men with tales that found favor as was Chief Donnacona of Canada when he was taken to France, and probably for the same reasons.
Sir Walter Raleigh tried hard during the next three years to plant a colony at Hatteras, sending out one expedition after another. Everything failed. Storms contributed to the disasters as much as bad leadership and worsening relations with the Indians. But, mainly, the objectives were wrong.
It was the search for precious metals, the quest for a trade passage through to the Indian Ocean, the harrying of Spain, all coupled with a complete neglect of the country’s more obvious resources, that brought defeat. No one thought of growing food or trading with the Indians. The “colonists” were mostly fortune hunters, ex-soldiers and adventurers, bent on finding El Dorado in one form or another.
All except one—he was Thomas Hariot, a precise man and an observant one. Raleigh sent him out as geographer to the second expedition. Noting the resources of the country, he listed among other things wine, “medicinal” tobacco and furs as saleable exports. He made special mention of the fur trade potential.