A CRUISING VOYAGE ROUND
THE WORLD
[Illustration: CAPTAIN WILLIAM DAMPIER
_From the painting by Thomas Murray, in the National Portrait
Gallery._]
_THE SEAFARERS’ LIBRARY_
_General Editor: G.E. MANWARING, F.R.Hist.S._
A
CRUISING VOYAGE
ROUND THE WORLD
Captain _WOODES ROGERS_
With Introduction and Notes
by G.E.MANWARING, F.R.Hist.S.
WITH 8 HALF-TONE PLATES
[Illustration]
_CASSELL AND COMPANY L^{TD.}_
_LONDON, TORONTO, MELBOURNE & SYDNEY_
_First Published in 1712
Reprinted in The Seafarers’ Library, 1928_
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS
FACE
PAGE
Captain William Dampier _Frontispiece_ 1
Crossing the Tropic; sailors being ducked at the yard-arm 7
The track of the _Duke_ and _Dutchess_ round the world 48
The Island of Juan Fernandez, where Alexander Selkirk was found 96
Searching the ladies of Guiaquil 128
Captain Woodes Rogers, with his son and daughter, 1729 160
Woodes Rogers landing on the coast of California 208
Capture of the Acapulco Galleon off the coast of California 240
INTRODUCTION
The sea has always been the cradle of the English race, and over six
hundred years ago an old chronicler wrote of our great sea tradition
that “English ships visited every coast,” and that “English sailors
excelled all others both in the arts of navigation and in fighting.” In
this respect, the west of England has probably played a greater part in
our maritime development than any other portion of the United Kingdom,
and the names of her most famous seamen--Drake, Raleigh, and Hawkins
among others--are now almost household words. There are, however, many
other nautical celebrities among her sons, whose names deserve a more
prominent place in our naval annals, and such an one is Captain Woodes
Rogers. Not only does he rank as a splendid navigator and magnificent
seaman, but he also filled an important rôle as a colonial administrator
and governor, and was one of the pioneers in the development of our
colonial empire. He is, indeed, one of the most picturesque and romantic
figures of the first half of the eighteenth century, and his rescue and
account of Alexander Selkirk’s privations on the uninhabited island of
Juan Fernandez undoubtedly provided Defoe with materials for “Robinson
Crusoe.” It is not too much to assume that had there been no Woodes
Rogers, Defoe’s charming and immortal romance, which has delighted
millions of readers, might never have been written.
Nevertheless, Rogers is rather an elusive personage, and the writer of
the appreciative article on him in the “Dictionary of National
Biography” was unable to glean any particulars of his birth, parentage,
or marriage. Thanks to recent research it is now possible to supply some
of these details. It is certain that his ancestors had been settled at
the old seaport of Poole, Dorset, since the beginning of the sixteenth
century, and among the mayors of Poole the name is prominent during the
reign of Elizabeth. His great-grandfather, John Rogers of Poole, married
Ann Woods, and from this union the name of Woods (afterwards spelt
Woodes) Rogers was perpetuated for at least three generations, until the
death of Woodes Rogers’s infant son in 1713. Woodes Rogers the second,
the father of the subject of this book, was a sea-captain, born at Poole
in 1650. He eventually removed to Bristol, where his family consisted of
two daughters and two sons, the eldest of whom, Captain Woodes Rogers,
was probably born there in 1679, but the precise date is uncertain.[1]
All that we know is that Rogers, like his father, followed a sea career,
and in the records of Bristol he is described as a “mariner,” from which
we may assume that he was connected with the Merchant Venturers of that
Port. He is probably to be identified with the Captain Rogers whom the
famous navigator Captain William Dampier mentions in his “Voyages”
published in 1699, as “my worthy friend,” and from whom he included
three contributions in his book:[2] (i) A long letter on the African
hippopotamus as he (Rogers) had seen them in the “River Natal”; (ii) A
description of the trade winds from the Cape of Good Hope to the Red
Sea; (iii) An account of “Natal in Africk as I received it from my
ingenious friend Captain Rogers, who is lately gone to that place, and
hath been there several times before.” This gives a lively account of
the manners and customs of the natives, and the natural history of the
country.
It is evident that at this period the Rogers family occupied a prominent
position both in the industrial and social life of Bristol, and in
January, 1705, the marriage of Woodes Rogers to the daughter of Admiral
Sir William Whetstone, of Bristol, the Commander-in-Chief in the West
Indies, took place at St. Mary Magdalen, Old Fish Street, London.[3]
This marriage proved a stepping stone to Rogers’s future career, and in
consequence of the union between these two old families Rogers was made
a freeman of his native place, as the following entry from the city
records, under the date of 16th March, 1704/5, shows:--“Woodes Rogers
junior, Mariner, is admitted to the liberties of this city for that he
married Sarah, daughter of Sir William Whettstone, knight.”[4]
We now come to the year 1708, in many respects the most eventful of
Woodes Rogers’s career. He had long been impressed by the way in which
both France and Spain monopolised the whole of the trade to the South
Sea, and he determined, if possible, to remedy the evil. In 1698 M. de
Beauchesne Gouin, a captain in the French navy, went there with two
ships for the purpose of establishing trade, and an account of that
voyage, in the shape of the commander’s “Journal” coming into the hands
of Rogers, he eagerly perused and digested it. Elated by the success of
Beauchesne Gouin, the French had carried on a vast trade ever since, and
in one year, Rogers informs us, no less than seventeen warships and
merchantmen had been sent to the South Sea. In the first year it was
estimated that their ships carried home above 100 millions of dollars,
or nearly 25 millions sterling, besides which they convoyed the Spanish
galleons and treasure ships to and from the West Indies. By this means
they had become absolute masters of all the valuable trade in those
parts, and the riches thus amassed had enabled them, according to
Rogers, “to carry on the war against most of the Potentates of Europe.”
This war, known as the War of the Spanish Succession, in which the
forces of Great Britain, Austria, and Holland were allied against those
of France and Spain, lasted from 1702 till 1713, and Rogers, as befitted
a seaman of sound knowledge and wisdom, realised the truth of the old
saying that he who commands the sea commands the trade. Not only did he
wish to see the English take a share in this vast trade of the South
Sea, but he realised that it would be a fitting opportunity to attack
the enemies’ commerce there, and so by cutting off her resources it
would help to shorten the war, and enrich his own country. To quote his
own words “necessity has frequently put private men on noble takings.”
This was indeed a noble undertaking, and in the belief that it was both
necessary and profitable to undertake such an expedition, he drew up a
scheme which he presented to his friends, the merchants of his native
Bristol. The time was particularly opportune for such a venture, for an
Act[5] had recently been passed by Parliament which marks a crucial and
important point in the history of privateering. In this Act an effort
was made to restore to privateering all the old spirit of adventure
which permeated our sea story in the reign of Elizabeth. Previously the
Crown had reserved to itself one fifth of all prizes taken by
privateers; now the whole interest was transferred to the owner and
crew. This Act marks the close of the period of decline, and the opening
of a period of great activity. The Crown now sanctioned privateering
solely for the benefit which it was hoped to derive from injury
inflicted on the enemy.[6]
Under these circumstances it was only natural that the scheme which
Rogers propounded should have been looked on in a most favourable light,
and the expedition was duly financed and fitted out. Rogers dedicates
his book to his “surviving owners,” and among them it is of particular
interest to note the following:
Sir John Hawkins, Mayor of Bristol in 1701; Christopher Shuter, Mayor in
1711; James Hollidge, Mayor in 1709; Captain Freake and Thomas Clements,
Sheriffs of Bristol; John Romsey, Town Clerk of Bristol, and Thomas
Goldney, a leading Quaker of Bristol.[7] It will be seen from this that
during the voyage (1708-11) the whole of the Corporation at one time or
another were interested in the venture.
The money being forthcoming, two merchant ships, or “private Men of War”
were fitted out. These were the _Duke_ of 320 tons, with a crew of 117
men and mounting 30 guns, and the _Dutchess_, a slightly smaller ship of
260 tons, with a crew of 108 men, and 26 guns. How these two small ships
(the equivalent of a 6th-rate ship of the Royal Navy of the day, with a
keel length of about 80 ft. and a breadth of about 25 ft.) helped to
make history, the readers of Woodes Rogers’s “Cruising Voyage” will be
able to judge. Each ship had a commission from the Lord High Admiral to
wage war against the French and the Spaniards, and in order that those
who sailed with him should not be forgotten Rogers has left us the names
of all the officers in the two ships, and among them may be noted the
following:--Captain Stephen Courtney, Commander of the _Dutchess_, “a
man of birth, fortune, and of very amiable qualities,” who contributed
to the expense of the voyage; Thomas Dover, second Captain of the
_Duke_, President of the Council, and Captain of the Marines, whose
appointment appears to have been due to his financial interest in the
voyage. By profession “a Doctor of Physick,” he is remembered to
posterity as the inventor of “Dover’s Powder”[8]; Captain Edward
Cooke,[9] who was second to Captain Courtney, had been twice taken
prisoner by the French.
The most noteworthy was undoubtedly Captain William Dampier,[10] then in
his fifty-sixth year, who sailed under Rogers as “Pilot for the South
Seas.” The choice was a wise one, for probably no man living had a wider
experience in those waters, having been there three times before, and
twice round the world. To the Spaniards his name was second only to that
of Drake, a formidable asset in a voyage of this kind. That he should
have consented to serve under a much younger man is sufficient
testimony of the regard and esteem in which he held Woodes Rogers.
Among the officers of the _Duke_ were three lieutenants and three mates.
Of the latter, John Ballet, third mate, was designated surgeon if
occasion arose, he having been “Captain Dampier’s Doctor in his last
unfortunate voyage round the world.” This department was further
strengthened by the inclusion of Dover’s kinsman, Samuel Hopkins, an
Apothecary, who was to act as Dover’s lieutenant “if we landed a party.”
In addition two young lawyers, George Underhill and John Parker, were
borne upon the ship’s books, “designed to act as midshipmen.” Among the
officers of the _Dutchess_ under Captain Courtney, was Rogers’s young
brother, John, who sailed as second-lieutenant.
The instructions given by the owners were embodied in a document, which
Rogers solemnly calls the “Constitution,” which was signed and sealed at
Bristol on the 14th of July, 1708. This document not only stipulated the
exact powers of the various officers, but laid down a definite rule that
“all attempts, attacks, and designs upon the enemy” should at first be
debated by a general council of the officers, and the same applied to
all “discontents, differences, or misbehaviour.” The wisdom of this
procedure was apparent from the first, and Rogers states that without
this method “we could never have performed the voyage.”
And so, within three weeks of the signing of the Constitution, Rogers
and his merry men sailed from the King Road, near Bristol, on August the
2nd, on what proved to be one of the most successful voyages that ever
left the shores of Great Britain. His crew consisted for the most part
of “Tinkers, Taylors, Hay-makers, Pedlers, Fiddlers, etc.,” not
forgetting John Finch “late wholesale oilman of London,” as ship’s
steward, and the ship’s mascot, a fine specimen of an English bull-dog.
Though the composition of the crew was Gilbertian in the extreme, its
spirit, as we shall see, was in the main, Elizabethan.
“Most of us, the chief officers,” says Rogers, “embraced this trip of
privateering round the world, to retrieve the losses we had sustained by
the enemy,” and the opportunity soon offered itself. Proceeding down the
Bristol Channel with a fair wind and bound for Cork, they saw a large
ship, but after three hours’ chase lost sight of her. This was probably
fortunate for Rogers, for he records that his ships were “out of trim,”
and that in his own ship there were “not twenty sailors.” After several
minor adventures Cork was reached on the 6th, where the provisioning of
the ships was completed by Mr. Noblett Rogers, brother of one of the
owners. Here Rogers succeeded in shipping some good sailors, and
clearing out the useless ones, “being ordinary fellows, and not fit for
our employment.” The defects in the rigging of the ships were now made
good, and they were also careened and cleaned. During this enforced stay
in Cork Harbour, we get a glimpse of the lighter side of a sailor’s
life. Though they expected to sail immediately, the crew we are informed
“were continually marrying.” Among others, Rogers tells an amusing story
of a Danish seaman who married an Irish woman, “without understanding a
word of each other’s language, so that they were forced to use an
interpreter.” While the rest “drank their Cans of flip till the last
minute” and “parted unconcerned,” the Dane “continued melancholy for
several days” after the ships sailed. Sweethearts and wives were finally
left behind on September 1st, when the _Duke_ and _Dutchess_ in company
with about 20 merchant ships, and escorted by the _Hastings_ man-of-war,
under the command of Captain Paul,[11] shaped their course for the
Canary Islands.
And now having left British waters, with a “mixed gang,” as Rogers
dubbed his crew, “we hope to be well manned, as soon as they have learnt
the use of arms, and got their sea legs, which we doubted not soon to
teach them, and bring them to discipline.” The holds of both the _Duke_
and _Dutchess_ were full of provisions; the between decks were crowded
with cables, bread, and water-casks, and whereas on leaving Bristol they
had only a crew of 225 all told, they now had a total of 334, so we can
quite agree with Rogers when he says they were “very much crowded and
pestered ships.” Under such circumstances Rogers was no doubt glad to
sail under the protection of a man-of-war.
Strange as it may seem things were not so bad as Rogers thought, and
after chasing a small vessel he records with evident satisfaction, that
the _Duke_ and _Dutchess_ “sailed as well as any in the fleet, not
excepting the man-of-war.” Prior to parting company with Captain Paul
the crews were mustered in order to acquaint them with the design of the
expedition, and to give an opportunity of sending home any “malcontents”
in the _Hastings_. All professed themselves satisfied, excepting one
poor fellow on the _Duke_, who expected to have been “the Tything-man
that year in his parish,” and whose lament was that his wife “would be
obliged to pay forty shillings in his absence.” However, when he saw all
the rest willing, and knew the prospect of plunder, he became “easily
quieted,” and in common with the others drank heartily to the success of
the voyage.
Six days after leaving Cork the ships parted company with the
_Hastings_, and as a farewell gift Captain Paul gave them “Scrubbers,
Iron Scrapers for our ship’s bottom, a speaking trumpet, and other
things that we wanted.” By this time Rogers was beginning to get his
ships into trim and all provisions, etc., properly stowed, they hitherto
“having been in some confusion, as is usual in Privateers at first
setting out.” Taking into consideration the length of the voyage, the
different climates they would pass, and the excessive cold “going about
Cape Horne,” it was resolved to stop at Madeira to replenish their
slender stock of “liquor.” It was Pepys who wrote that “seamen love
their bellies above anything else,” and Rogers was of the opinion that
“good liquor to sailors is preferable to clothing.”
In spite of the assurances of his crew a few days earlier, a mutiny now
occurred on board his ship. He and his consort had chased and overhauled
a vessel flying Swedish colours, believed to be carrying contraband
goods. Nothing however was found to prove her a prize, and Rogers let
her go “without the least embezzlement,” for which courtesy the master
gave him “two hams, and some ruff-dryed beef,” and the compliment was
returned with “a dozen bottles of red-streak Cyder.” This much incensed
the crews of the _Duke_ and _Dutchess_ who had no idea of the perils of
privateering without the sweets of plunder, and under the leadership of
the boatswain of the _Duke_ several of them mutinied. The situation
looked ugly, but Rogers, who was a born commander, quickly quelled it,
putting ten of the mutineers in irons, while the boatswain, “the most
dangerous fellow,” was shipped in the _Crown_ galley, then in company,
to be carried to Madeira in irons. Five days later the prisoners were
“discharged from their irons,” upon their humble submission and strict
promises for their future good behaviour.
Contrary to arrangements it was decided to pass by Madeira, there being
“little wind,” and to “cruise a little among the Canary Islands for
liquor.” On the 18th of September they chased and captured a small
Spanish bark with forty-five passengers on board, who were relieved when
they found that their captors were English and not Turks. Among them
were four friars, one of whom, “a good honest fellow,” Rogers and his
officers made “heartily merry, drinking King Charles III’s health”: the
rest he tersely records “were of the wrong sort.”
The prize was carried into Oratava, where after some delay, and a
threatened bombardment of the town, the Spaniards eventually ransomed
her. The transaction, however, seemed to have ended to Rogers’s
satisfaction, and his ships sailed away “well stocked with liquor, the
better able to endure the cold when we get the length of Cape Horn.” On
the 25th of September the ships passed the “tropick,” when according to
the ritual of the sea, the fresh-water sailors were ducked from the
yard-arm, or forced to pay a fine of half a crown.
The next place of call was the Cape Verde Islands and on the last day of
September the two ships dropped anchor in the harbour of St. Vincent.
Here they wooded and watered, and their casks, which had been oil casks,
were hauled ashore, burnt and cleaned--the water in them having “stunk
insufferably.” By bartering with the inhabitants they were also able to
obtain fresh provisions in the shape of “Cattel, Goats, Hogs, Fowls,
Melons, Potatoes, Limes, Brandy, Tobacco, Indian Corn, etc.” Here Rogers
had the misfortune to lose one of his crew, Joseph Alexander “a good
linguist,” who had been sent ashore with a respectful letter to the
Governor. This man seems to have found life more attractive on the
island than the uncertainties and hardships of life aboard a privateer.
After waiting a week for him Rogers reluctantly came to the conclusion
that he had deserted, and “it was unanimously agreed, that we had better
leave him behind, than to wait with two ships for one man that had not
followed his orders.”
Rogers was extremely scrupulous in all his undertakings; everything
relating to the proceedings of his squadron and the affairs of both
officers and men was carefully recorded in his journal. On the eve of
sailing from the Bay of St. Vincent a council was held on board the
_Dutchess_ “to prevent embezzlement in prizes, and to hinder feuds and
disorders amongst our officers and men for the future.” An agreement was
arrived at whereby each man was to have the following shares in the
plunder. A sailor or landsman, £10; any officer below the Carpenter,
£20; a Mate, Gunner, Boatswain, and Carpenter, £40; a Lieutenant or
Master, £80; And the Captains £100 over and above the gratuity promised
by the owners to such as shall signalise themselves.” It was also agreed
that both Rogers and Courtney should have 5 per cent. over and above
their respective shares, and that a reward of twenty pieces-of-eight
would be given “to him that first sees a prize of good value, or
exceeding 50 tons in burden.” This was signed by the officers and men of
both ships on the 8th of October.
On the same day the ships weighed and steered for the coast of Brazil.
By this time the men had found their sea legs and were more amenable to
discipline, and only one act of insubordination is recorded on the
voyage to Brazil.
The spiritual needs of the men were not neglected, and it is pleasing to
note that from the 28th of October, when the ships crossed the line,
“prayers were read in both ships, morning or evening, as opportunity
would permit, according to the Church of England.[12] On the 19th of
November they made the coast of Brazil, anchoring off the Island of
Grande. The opportunity was now taken to replenish the water casks, and
careen the ships. The depredations of the French corsairs had made the
Brazilians suspicious of strangers, and Rogers states that his boat was
fired on several times when trying to land “with a present for the
Governor of Angre de Reys.” On learning that they were English, Rogers
and his men were welcomed by the Friars and the Governor, who treated
them “very handsomely.” Rogers’s account of a religious procession in
which he and his men, assisted by the ships’ band, took part, is one of
the most amusing episodes in his book. Another amusing incident was an
attempt by two Irish sailors to desert, but they were so frightened by
the monkeys and baboons in the woods, that they were glad to return to
the ship. In the afternoon of December 3rd, the ships bade adieu to the
hospitalities of the island of Grande, and commenced their long and
arduous voyage to Juan Fernandez, a distance of nearly 6,000 miles.
A succession of gales now followed and on the 13th of December the
_Dutchess_ was forced to reef her mainsail for the first time since
leaving England. In spite of “strong gales, with squalls from the south
to the west,” when nearing Cape Horn, the new year was fitly ushered in.
According to the custom of the sea there was “a large tub of punch hot
upon the Quarter Deck, where every man in the ship had above a pint to
his share, and drank our owners and our friends healths in Great
Britain.” After which, Rogers records, “we bore down to our Consort, and
gave him three Huzza’s, wishing them the like.” In anticipation of the
excessive cold in “going about Cape Horn” six tailors were hard at work
for several weeks making warm clothing for the men, and every officer
handed over such items as he could spare from his own kit. The actual
passage of the Horn is vividly described by Rogers, and although the
_Dutchess_ was for some hours in considerable danger, good seamanship
brought her and her consort safely through. Having got as far south as
latitude 61°53´, “the furthest for aught we know that anyone as yet has
been to Southward, we now account ourselves in the South Sea,” says
Rogers.
In fact Dampier as pilot had carried them so far south that many of the
men in both ships were nearly frozen to death, and some were down with
the scurvy. The pressing need was to find a harbour in order that the
sick might be recruited ashore, and for this purpose the Island of Juan
Fernandez was decided upon. Unfortunately all the charts differed, and
for a time grave doubts were entertained of “striking it.” Thanks to the
skill of Dampier, who had been there before, the island was sighted on
the last day of January, but by that time they had slightly overshot it,
for it bore “W.S.W. distant about 7 leagues.”[13] With this famous
landfall lay not only the destinies of the crews of the _Duke_ and
_Dutchess_, but also of the solitary inhabitant of the island who was
anxiously scanning the horizon.
That same afternoon the pinnace was hoisted out and a boat’s crew under
the command of Dover went in her to go ashore. When the pinnace was
about a league from the island, it being then nightfall, Rogers, from
the deck of the _Duke_, suddenly saw a light blaze up from the shore.
The pinnace immediately made haste to return, and believing that a
French squadron was lying at anchor, Rogers ordered the decks to be
cleared for action. At daybreak on the following day the ships stood in
to engage, but not a single sail was to be seen. A yawl, with two
officers and six men all armed, was sent forward to reconnoitre, and as
it neared the shore a man “clothed in goat-skins” was seen gesticulating
wildly to them. This was Alexander Selkirk, late master of the _Cinque
Ports_, who through some quarrel with his captain had been on the island
four years and four months. This was the first time that an English ship
had called at the island since, and his joy at seeing the English flag
again and hearing the voices of his own countryman can better be
imagined than described. Though his actions reflected his gratitude, his
speech “for want of use” failed him, “he seemed to speak his words by
halves.” His adventures and privations are vividly described by Rogers,
and it is not proposed to dwell on them here. Suffice it to say that
Selkirk’s story was first communicated to the world in the pages of
Woodes Rogers’s “Cruising Voyage,” and that his adventures formed the
basis of the romance of Robinson Crusoe.[14]
Two days after their arrival at the island all was bustle and
excitement. A ship’s forge was set up ashore; sail-makers were busy
repairing the sails; coopers were hard at work on the casks; and tents
were pitched to receive the sick men. In the words of Rogers “we have a
little town of our own here, and every body is employed.” The time was
indeed precious, for while at the Canaries they had heard that five
large French ships were coming to search for them, and Rogers was
anxious to get away as soon as possible. Thanks to the “goodness of the
air” and the “help of the greens,” and to the fact that the “Governour,”
as Rogers dubbed Selkirk, caught two or three goats every day for them,
the crew soon recovered from their distemper, and only two died. The
ships were quickly wooded and watered, and about eighty gallons of
sea-lions’ oil was boiled down to be used as oil for the lamps in order
to save the candles. By the 12th of February the sick men were
re-embarked, and two days later the little squadron weighed with “a fair
pleasant gale,” with Selkirk duly installed as second mate of the
_Duke_. The voyage was continued to the northward off the coasts of
Chile and Peru with the intention of getting across the track of the
great Spanish galleons from Manila to Acapulco. On the 16th of March
they captured a little vessel of about 16 tons belonging to Payta, and
on the following day arrived with their prize at the Island of Lobos.
Here it was resolved to fit out the prize as a privateer, “she being
well built for sailing.” This was carried out with the greatest
expedition, and with a crew of 32 men and four swivel guns, she was
renamed the _Beginning_ and placed under the command of Captain Cooke.
While the _Duke_ was being cleaned and tallowed, the _Beginning_ in
company with the _Dutchess_ was sent a-cruising, and on the morning of
the 26th they captured another Spanish vessel. Among other things they
found a store of tobacco on board, a very welcome article which was
distributed among the men. After being cleaned and refitted she was
christened the _Increase_ and Selkirk was appointed to command her. The
ships continued cruising on this station till the 5th of April, and
among other prizes they took the Spanish galleon _Ascension_ of 500
tons, bound from Panama to Lima.
So far the financial results of the expedition had been disappointing,
but spurred on by the glowing accounts given by their prisoners of
richly laden ships that were expected with the “widow of the Viceroy of
Peru with her family and riches,” and the wealth of the Spanish South
American cities, they resolved to attack the city of Guiaquil, and exact
a ransom. This resolution was arrived at on the morning of April 12th
and a council was held on board the _Duke_ to discuss the project, when
regulations were drawn up regarding the landing parties and other
details. In order that his “mixed gang of most European nations,” should
have “good discipline” and “needful encouragement,” minute regulations
were drawn up by Rogers and his officers concerning what was to be
termed plunder. Although everything portable seems to have been
considered as such, it is amusing to learn that Rogers with his
customary civility to the fair sex, resolved “that money and women’s
ear-rings, with loose diamonds, pearls, and precious stones” should “be
excepted.” The plunder of Guiaquil being thus comfortably and amicably
arranged beforehand, the ships headed for the Island of Puna, at the
entrance to Guiaquil River.
On the 15th of April, when nearing their intended anchorage, an
unfortunate incident occurred. In an attack on a French-built ship
belonging to Lima, Rogers’s younger brother John was killed in
attempting to board her. Though we must sympathise with Rogers when he
speaks of his “unspeakable sorrow” on this occasion, we cannot but
admire his pluck when he philosophically adds that “the greatest
misfortune or obstacle shall not deter” him from the object that he had
in view. Within twenty-four hours Rogers had captured the ship,
eventually naming her the _Marquis_, and increasing her armament from 12
to 20 guns.
On the 19th a landing was effected on the Island of Puna, and at
midnight on the 22nd, the ships’ boats with 110 men arrived in sight of
the town of Guiaquil. On the top of an adjoining hill a blazing beacon
showed that an alarum had been raised. Bells were violently rung, and
muskets and guns were discharged to awake the inhabitants. A hurried
consultation was now held between Rogers and his chief officers, and
both Dampier and Dover were against proceeding with the attack. Cautious
counsels prevailed, and the plan for taking the town by surprise having
failed, negotiations were opened with the governor for its ransom. A sum
of 50,000 pieces-of-eight[15] was demanded, but the town could only
raise 30,000. Rogers thereupon broke off the negotiations and while the
ships bombarded the town he landed a force of 70 men and guns. Rogers
has minutely described the attack, and space forbids dwelling on it
here; suffice it to say that within an hour the enemy were in full
retreat and the English were masters of the city. Other reinforcements
were now landed and strategic points in the city occupied, while parties
were told off to plunder. An agreement was eventually drawn up for the
payment of 30,000 pieces-of-eight as ransom, to be paid within six days.
On the 27th of April Rogers and his men marched down to the boats with
colours flying, and the plunder was safely stowed aboard. At 8 o’clock
the next morning they sailed with “drums beating, trumpets sounding, and
guns booming,” and thus took leave of the Spaniards “very cheerfully.”
It was now decided to make the “utmost despatch” for the Galapagos
Islands off the coast of Peru. In the passage there a malignant fever
contracted at Guiaquil, broke out among the crews of both ships, and on
the morning of the 17th when in sight of the Galapagos no less than 60
were down on the _Duke_, and upwards of 80 on the _Dutchess_.
On arrival at the island it was agreed to separate in order to search
for fresh water, but none was discovered. Finding that punch preserved
his own health, Rogers records that he “prescribed it freely among such
of the ship’s company as were well.” Though it was thought when setting
out from Bristol that they had sufficient medicines aboard, Rogers now
laments that with so many sick in both ships the supplies were
inadequate.
Owing to the absence of water it was decided to steer for the island of
Gorgona, near the mainland. Here a supply of fresh water was available,
and the sick were brought ashore and placed in tents to recruit their
health. The opportunity was now taken to caulk and careen the ships and
examine the prizes. In discharging the cargo of the galleon, which
Rogers had named the _Marquis_, he found in her, to his amazement, “500
Bales of Pope’s Bulls, 16 reams in a Bale,” and a quantity of bones in
small boxes “ticketed with the names of Romish Saints, some of which had
been dead 7 or 800 years.” A more inconvenient cargo for a privateer
would be difficult to imagine, and as they took up such a lot of room in
the ship, Rogers records that he threw most of them overboard “to make
room for better goods,” except some of the Papal Bulls which he used “to
burn the pitch off our ships’ bottoms when we careened them.” In
extenuation for what may seem an impious act, Rogers states that it was
impossible to read them as the print “looked worse than any of our old
ballads.”
After two months’ stay at Gorgona the crew had sufficiently recuperated
to continue the cruise, and on the 7th of August the ships sailed from
the island, bound southward. On board the _Duke_ were 35 negroes, “lusty
fellows,” selected from some of the Spanish prizes. Rogers called them
together, and explained his plan of campaign, telling them that if they
fought and behaved themselves well in the face of an enemy they should
be free men, upon which “32 of them immediately promised to stand to it
as long as the best Englishman, and desired they might be improved in
the use of arms.” To confirm the contract, Rogers gave them a suit of
“Bays,” and “made them drink a dram all round” to the success of the
voyage. In order that nothing should be wanting he staged a sham fight
to exercise them “in the use of our great guns and small arms,” and in
the heat of the engagement “to imitate business,” red-lead mixed with
water, was liberally sprinkled over them; “a very agreeable diversion,”
comments Rogers.
And so for the real business, the capture of the Manila ship. All the
romance of buccaneering and privateering hangs round these great
treasure galleons, the annual ships from Manila to Acapulco, and the
sister ships from Acapulco to Manila. It was the golden dream of every
sailor who sailed these seas to capture one of them, but although many
had made the attempt, only one prior to this, that famous Elizabethan
seaman Thomas Cavendish, had actually done so, in 1587.[16] Here was a
feat worthy of emulation, and so, in the November of 1709, we find
Rogers and his little squadron cruising off Cape St. Lucas waiting and
watching in the “very place” and in the same month where Cavendish “took
the Manila ship” one hundred and twenty-two years earlier. It was a long
and weary watch which tested both the temper and the mettle of the men
to the extreme. Through the whole of November no sign of the treasure
ship was to be seen; several of the men mutinied and were confined in
irons, and two others broke open the store room and stole from the fast
diminishing stock of victuals. By the 20th of December provisions were
at such a low ebb that Rogers records “we all looked very melancholy and
dispirited,” and after consultation with his officers it was agreed to
make for the Island of Guam “with the utmost dispatch” in order to
revictual. All hope of falling in with the Manila ship had been
practically abandoned, when at 9 o’clock on the following morning a man
at the masthead of the _Duke_ cried out that he saw a sail distant about
7 leagues “bearing West half south of us.”
At this “great and joyful surprize” the English ensign was immediately
hoisted, and both the _Duke_ and _Dutchess_ “bore away after her.” The
weather had now “fallen calm,” and all through that day and the next
Rogers hung on to his prey, with his two pinnaces tending her “all
night,” and showing “false fires” that they might keep in touch. Before
nightfall on the 22nd, both the _Duke_ and _Dutchess_ cleared for
action, and everything was made ready to engage the ship at daybreak. As
day dawned the chase was observed upon the _Duke’s_ weather bow, about a
league away, while the _Dutchess_ was ahead of her “to leeward near
about half as far.” The ships were now becalmed, and Rogers was forced
to get “out 8 of our ships oars, and rowed above an hour.” A light
breeze then sprang up and carried them gently towards the enemy. There
was no time to be lost; not a dram of liquor was in the ship to fortify
the spirits of the men, so a large kettle of chocolate was boiled and
served out to the crew, who when they had emptied their pannikins, went
to prayers like true British sailors. Ere long their devotions were
disturbed by the enemy’s gunfire, and about eight o’clock the _Duke_
began to engage the Spaniard single-handed; the _Dutchess_ “being to
leeward, and having little wind, could not get up in time.” The enemy
presented a most formidable aspect with powder barrels hanging at each
yard-arm, “to deter us from boarding.”
As the _Duke_ approached she received the fire of the enemy’s
stern-chasers, to which she was only able to reply with her
fore-chasers. Holding on her course she soon ranged alongside the great
galleon, and gave her several broadsides. The precision and rapidity of
the English gunners was apparent from the first, and after a little
while the _Duke_ “shot a little ahead” and placing herself across the
bows of the galleon, plied her guns with such good effect that the
Spaniard hauled her colours “two thirds down” and surrendered.[17] The
fight, which was hotly contested, according to Rogers, lasted “about
three glasses,” and on board the Spaniard 9 men were killed and several
wounded. On the English side only two were wounded, Rogers and an Irish
landsman. Rogers’s wound was a serious one; he was shot in the left
cheek, the bullet carrying away part of his upper jaw. As he lay on the
deck writhing in agony, he pluckily delivered his orders in writing.
Two days later, although he had “much ado to swallow any sort of
liquids,” and was obviously very ill, it was decided to cruise for a
larger ship which the prisoners stated had sailed from Manila at the
same time. On Christmas eve the _Dutchess_ and the _Marquis_ sailed out
of the harbour of Port Segura to search for the larger ship. The
inability of the former to engage the other Spanish ship in time had
caused “some reflections amongst the sailors,” and it was decided by a
majority of the Council that Rogers with the _Duke_ and the prize should
wait in harbour to refit--much “against our will.” However, Rogers was
not to be put aside. He placed two men on an adjoining hilltop to signal
as soon as the Spanish ship was sighted, and on the 26th he stood out to
sea to join his consorts. By 9 o’clock in the morning the _Dutchess_ was
observed engaging the Spaniard, and the _Marquis_ “standing to them with
all the sail she could crowd.” Unfortunately at this moment the _Duke_
was some twelve miles to leeward, and as the wind was light she made
little way. By the afternoon the _Dutchess_ was joined in the attack by
the _Marquis_, but the latter soon fell to leeward out of cannon shot,
being apparently temporarily disabled. Fortunately she soon recovered,
and renewed the attack with great vigour “for 4 glasses and upwards.”
The brunt of the fighting having fallen on the _Dutchess_ she now
“stretched ahead to windward” of the enemy, to repair her rigging and
stop a leak. In the meantime the _Marquis_ kept firing several
broadsides until the _Dutchess_ “bore down again,” when the fight was
renewed until nightfall. All this time Rogers in the _Duke_ was crowding
on all sail to come to his consorts’ assistance. At daybreak the wind
shifted, and Rogers was able to bring his guns to bear. The _Dutchess_
being now “thwart the Spaniards hawse,” and plying her guns very fast,
those that missed their target, exposed the _Duke_ to a serious risk
“if we had lain on her quarters and across her stem, as I had designed.”
Rogers now ranged his ship alongside the Spaniard, and for 4 glasses
continued pouring broadsides into her. The _Duke_ now received two shots
in her mainmast, which disabled her, and a fire ball lighting on her
quarter-deck blew up a chest of gunpowder, and nearly fired the ship.
The _Dutchess_ was in much the same plight, and “having our rigging
shattered very much,” Rogers records, “we sheered off, and brought to.”
A Council was now held on board the _Duke_, and taking into
consideration the damage that the ships had received, coupled with the
fact that their ammunition was nearly exhausted, it was unanimously
agreed “to forbear any further attempts” on the Spaniard. The loss of
such a valuable prize caused great disappointment, and it was Rogers’s
opinion, that had the _Duke_ been allowed to accompany the _Dutchess_
and _Marquis_ on their first setting out “we all believe we might then
have carried this great ship.” However, Rogers had reason to be proud of
the way in which his ships had acquitted themselves. The lofty Spaniard
was the Admiral of Manila, named _Bigonia_, a new ship of 900 tons, with
a crew of 450 and mounting 60 brass guns. It was estimated that the
English fired no less than 500 shot (6 pounders) into her hull. From
first to last the English had fought her for seven hours, and the
casualties on the _Duke_ were 11 wounded, while the _Dutchess_ had about
20 killed and wounded, and the _Marquis_ 2 scorched with powder. Among
the wounded was Rogers, who had part of his ankle carried away when the
Spaniards’ fireball blew up on the quarter-deck. To the end of the
action he lay on his back where he fell, encouraging the men, and
refusing to be carried below.
It was now resolved to return to Port Segura on the Californian coast to
look after the prize already taken, and on the 1st day of January they
were again in harbour. The Acapulco galleon was now named the
_Batchelor_ in honour of Alderman Batchelor of Bristol, one of the
financiers of the expedition.[18] By a majority the Council decided to
appoint Dover to command her, and Rogers, ill as he was, strongly
protested against the appointment. Dover was not a seaman; he was
absolutely incapable of commanding and navigating the prize to England.
Moreover his temper was such that most of the seamen refused to serve
under him. Finally a compromise was arrived at, and Captains Frye and
Stretton were entrusted with the “navigation, sailing, and engaging” of
the ship, and Selkirk was appointed Master. Dover, though nominally in
command, was not to “molest, hinder, or contradict them in their
business.”
During the evening of the 10th of January, 1710, the four ships _Duke_,
_Dutchess_, _Marquis_ and _Batchelor_, all heavily laden, left the coast
of California for the Island of Guam, one of the Ladrones, that being
the first stage on their journey home to Great Britain. Provisions were
now extremely short, and 5 men were forced to subsist on 1-1/2 lb. of
flour, and 1 small piece of meat between them per day, with 3 pints of
water each “for drink and dressing their victuals.” Stern measures were
therefore necessary, and a seaman who stole several pieces of pork was
punished with the cat-o’-nine tails by his mess-mates. During this
extreme scarcity, Rogers was forced to adopt a measure which is perhaps
rather a humiliating episode in his career. To his Negro sailors, whom
he had promised to treat as Englishmen, and who had behaved themselves
well, he could only allow 6 in a mess to have “the same allowance as 5
of our own men, which will but just keep those that are in health
alive.”
The long voyage to Guam, a distance of over 6,000 miles, occupied two
months, during which the best day’s run was 168 miles, and the worst 41.
Nothing of importance occurred until the 14th of February, when “in
commemoration of the ancient custom of chusing Valentines,” Rogers drew
up a list of all “the fair ladies in Bristol” who were in any way
related or known to them. Assembling his officers in the cabin of the
_Duke_ “every one drew, and drank the lady’s health in a cup of Punch,
and to a happy sight of them all.” Three days later Rogers was troubled
with a swelling in his throat “which incommoded” him very much, and he
succeeded in getting out a piece of his jaw-bone that had lodged there
“since I was wounded.” On March the 11th they arrived at Guam, where
Rogers after a little diplomatic dealing with the Spanish governor
succeeded in getting such provisions as he wanted for his depleted
stores. In return the governor and others were entertained on board the
_Duke_, the crew “diverting them with musick, and our sailors dancing
till night.” On the 21st of March they sailed from Guam for the
Moluccas, encountering very stormy weather, and owing to the unseaworthy
nature of the _Duke_, the crew were “wearied almost to death with
continual pumping.” By the 15th of May provisions had again reached a
low ebb, and “with the shortest allowance” it was estimated that they
could only “subsist at sea 3 weeks longer.” A fortnight later the four
ships were safely anchored at the island of Bouton, by which time the
_Dutchess_ was using her last butt of water. Here the King of Bouton
supplied them with various commodities, all of which “were very dear.”
Nevertheless, as some return for the hospitality received Rogers made
the King a present of a “Bishop’s Cap,” which it is of interest to note
“he highly esteemed and gratefully accepted.” Being now “pretty well
supplied” with provisions “for a fortnight or three weeks,” the ships
left the island on the 8th of June _en route_ for Batavia, having taken
on board a pilot who promised to carry them “through the Channel the
great Dutch ships generally went.”
On the 17th, near the north coast of Java, they met a Dutch ship of 600
tons--the first eastward-bound merchantman they had seen for nearly two
years. From her they had their first items of home news, the death of
Prince George of Denmark, the Consort of Queen Anne, and the
continuation of the wars in Europe. Three days later they anchored
safely in the roadstead of Batavia “betwixt 30 and 40 sail, great and
small.”
After such a long and perilous voyage the crew were naturally overjoyed
at being in port. To them Batavia was a perfect paradise. They hugged
each other, and thanked their lucky stars that they had found “such a
glorious place for Punch, where they could have Arrack for 8d. per
gallon, and sugar for 1 penny a pound.” In spite of the humours of his
ship’s company Rogers was still very ill, the doctor having recently cut
a large musket shot out of his mouth, and while at Batavia several
pieces of his heel bone were also removed. As the _Marquis_ was found
unfit to proceed to Europe, she was sold for 575 Dutch dollars, “an
extraordinary bargain,” remarks Rogers.
On October the 12th, after a stay of nearly four months, they sailed
from Batavia and proceeded direct to the Cape of Good Hope. The _Duke_
was in such a leaky condition that she was kept afloat with the greatest
difficulty. By the end of October she had 3 feet of water in the hold,
“and our pumps being choaked,” says Rogers, “we were in such danger,
that we made signals, and fired guns for our consorts to come to our
relief, but had just sucked her (i.e. pumped her dry) as the _Dutchess_
came up.” On the 28th of December the three ships arrived at the Cape,
and 16 sick men were sent ashore. Several days were now spent in
watering and re-fitting, and on the 18th of January, 1711, it was agreed
that some of the plate and gold from the ships should be sold to buy
“several necessaries and provisions.”