Читать книгу Privateers and Privateering - Edward Phillips Statham - Страница 13

Table of Contents

WOODES ROGERS

Captain Woodes Rogers was a very different stamp of man from Dampier, and far better adapted by nature for the command of a privateering expedition.

His father was a Bristol man, a sea-captain, and subsequently resided at Poole; Woodes Rogers the younger was probably born at Bristol, about the year 1678. Of his early life we know nothing in detail, but he was evidently brought up as a seaman and attained a good position, for in the year 1708 he proposed to some merchants of Bristol that they should fit out a couple of privateers for a voyage to the South Seas. Whether he put any money in the venture we do not know, but he held strong views as to the folly of permitting the French and Spaniards to have it all their own way in that part of the world, and put his case to such good purpose that the necessary funds were speedily forthcoming. We are told, in Seyer's "Memoirs of Bristol," that among the gentlemen who financed the business, and to the survivors of whom, sixteen in number, Rogers dedicates his account of the cruise, there were several Quakers: a remarkable statement which, if true, would appear to indicate that the privateering fever, with huge gains in prospect, was too much for the principles even of the Society of Friends.

Like many another sailor who has sat down to write an account of his doings, Rogers commences by disclaiming any pretensions to literary skill: "I had not time, were it my talent, to polish the stile; nor do I think it necessary for a mariner's journal." Nevertheless, the account is written in pleasing fashion, occasionally very quaint in phraseology, and has the merit also—which is decidedly lacking in some writings whereof great parade is made of "polishing the stile"—of being very lucid.

The two vessels, named the Duke, of 320 tons, 30 guns, and 117 men, and the Duchess, of 260 tons, 26 guns, and 108 men, sailed from King Road, near Bristol, on August 2nd, 1708, for Cork, where Rogers hoped to complete his crews, or exchange some of the very mixed company for more efficient seamen, having not more than twenty such on board, while the Duchess was very little better off; so they were fortunate in not meeting with an enemy of any force on the way to Ireland; indeed, they appear to have sailed from Bristol in the greatest disorder—the rigging slack, ships out of trim, decks lumbered up, stores badly stowed, and so on, which must have gone greatly against the grain with a good seaman like Rogers. It is not difficult to imagine, however, the causes which led to such hurried departure: merchants who had been putting their hands in their pockets pretty freely for some months would be anxious to see the two ships at sea, commencing to rake in the spoil. Even the Quakers, perhaps, were impatient over the matter; and Rogers was probably told that it was time he was off.

However, he made good use of the time at Cork, and reconstituted his crews, if not entirely to his liking, at least with considerable improvement.

The owners, with, as we may conclude, the assistance of Rogers, had drawn up the constitution of a council, by which the progress of the voyage was to be determined, and all questions and disputes were to be settled. This is a very sensible document, providing for all probable contingencies; and, in the event of an equality of votes upon any matter, the casting vote was to be given by Thomas Dover, Rogers's second in command, who was appointed president of the council; this brings us to the subject of the officers of the two ships, and we find some very improbable persons included among them.

In the first place, Thomas Dover, second captain, president of the council, and captain of the Marines, appears to have been neither a sailor nor soldier, but a doctor.[5] There were three lieutenants and three mates, but John Ballet, third mate, was "designed surgeon if occasion arose; he had been Captain Dampier's doctor, in his last unfortunate voyage round the world." Samuel Hopkins, a kinsman of Dover's, and an apothecary, was to act as Dover's lieutenant in case of landing a party. Then there was John Vigor, a "Reformado," to act as Dover's ensign if landed; while George Underwood and John Parker, two young lawyers, were designed to act as midshipmen. The whole arrangement has a savour of Gilbert and Sullivan, or Lewis Carroll, about it; one is irresistibly reminded of the "Hunting of the Snark," where the captain was a bellman, and had for his crew a butcher, a billiard-marker, and a beaver!

However, Rogers and his merry men were not for hunting any such shadowy affair as a "Snark"; they meant business, and the list of sub-officers includes further two midshipmen, coxswain of the pinnace, surgeon, surgeon's mate, and assistant—they were well off in the medical branch—gunner, carpenter, with mate and three assistants; boatswain and mate; cooper, four quarter-masters, ship's steward, sailmaker, armourer, ship's corporal (who was also cook to the officers), and ship's cook.

Also, as sailing-master and pilot for the South Seas, William Dampier sailed under Rogers in the Duke, probably the best man who could have been found for the post; he was a member of the council, and was no doubt a very valuable addition to the staff.

The Duchess, commanded by Captain Stephen Courtney, was similarly officered, the second lieutenant being John Rogers, a brother of Woodes Rogers, some ten years his junior.

"Most of us," says Rogers, "the chief officers, embraced this trip of privateering round the world, to retrieve the losses we had sustained by the enemy. Our complement of sailors in both ships was 333, of which alone one-third were foreigners from most nations; several of her Majesty's subjects on board were tinkers, tailors, haymakers, pedlars, fiddlers, etc., one negro, and about ten boys. With this mixed gang we hoped to be well manned, as soon as they had learnt the use of arms, and got their sea-legs, which we doubted not soon to teach them, and bring them to discipline." Very hopeful!

One curious characteristic common to this mixed crew was that, as Rogers puts it, they "were continually marrying whilst we staid at Cork, though they expected to sail immediately. Among others there was a Dane coupled by a Romish priest to an Irish woman, without understanding a word of each other's language, so that they were forced to use an interpreter; yet I perceived this pair seemed more afflicted at separation than any of the rest. The fellow continued melancholy for several days after we were at sea. The rest, understanding each other, drank their cans of flip till the last minute, concluded with a health to our good voyage and their happy meeting, and then parted unconcerned."

This "continual marrying" constitutes, in truth, a tribute to the character of Irish women; had it been at Wapping there would have been, it is to be feared, but little question of marrying.

Even when they had restowed their holds and set up the rigging, Rogers is somewhat disheartened over the condition of the two ships: "Our holds are full of provisions; our cables, a great deal of bread, and water-casks between decks: and 183 men aboard the Duke, with 151 aboard the Duchess: so that we are very much crowded and pestered ships, not fit to engage an enemy without throwing provision and store overboard."

However, they sailed on September 1st, in company with the Hastings man-of-war and some other vessels, from whom they parted on the 6th, bound for Madeira; and a few days later there was trouble with the undisciplined crew, who had as yet found neither their sea-legs nor their manners.

Rogers had overhauled a vessel, sailing under Swedish colours; some of her crew, who were more or less drunk, had declared that she carried gunpowder and cables, so she was detained, in spite of the captain's remonstrances. However, no sign of any contraband goods could be discovered, so Rogers very properly let her go; upon which his men, who had no notion of going a-privateering without the joys of plunder, assumed a mutinous attitude, the boatswain at their head—all the mutineers were Englishmen. One man was flogged, ten were put in irons, and with the remainder Rogers reasoned, admitting, however, that he was forced to wink at the conduct of some. Next day a seaman came aft, "with near half the ship's company of sailors following him, and demanded the boatswain out of irons. I desired him to speak with me by himself on the quarter-deck, which he did, where the officers assisted me, seized him [i.e. tied him up], and made one of his chief comrades whip him. This method I thought best for breaking any unlawful friendship among themselves; which, with different correction to other offenders, allayed the tumult, so that now they begin to submit quietly, and those in irons beg pardon and promise amendment."

An excellent method of "breaking friendship," unlawful or otherwise!

On September 18th, in sight of Teneriffe, a small Spanish vessel was captured, belonging to Orotava, a port of Teneriffe.

"Amongst the prisoners were four friars, and one of them the Padre Guardian for the island Forteventura, a good, honest old fellow. We made him heartily merry, drinking King Charles III.'s health; but the rest were of the wrong sort."

The quarrels and intrigues of other nations brought a good deal of profit to privateersmen; the War of the Spanish Succession was then still in progress, the Grand Alliance striving to place the Archduke Charles of Austria on the Spanish throne, while others—"the wrong sort" from Rogers's point of view—upheld the cause of Philip, grandson of Louis XIV. of France; later on, as we shall see, the Austrian Succession was the occasion of some more profitable privateering.

Rogers and his colleagues now found themselves involved, to their surprise, in a dispute with their own countrymen over their capture, the Vice-Consul and three merchants sending off a letter to say that it had been agreed between Queen Anne and the Kings of Spain and France, that vessels trading to the Canaries were to be exempt from interference, and that unless the prize were released, Mr. Vanbrugh, owners' agent on board the Duke, who had gone on shore, would be detained.

Rogers was not to be so easily hoodwinked; he immediately detected the self-interest which prompted a disingenuous representation, and insisted that the prize should be ransomed; the cargo of wine and brandy he designed for his own ships; and he finished his letter as follows: "We are apprehensive you are obliged to give us this advice to gratify the Spaniards": which hit the nail very fairly on the head. Still pressed by the Spaniards, the Consul and his friends persisted; upon which Rogers told them that, had it not been for their agent being on shore, they would not have remained a moment to discuss the matter; but that now they would remain longer among the islands, in order to make reprisals, and that the Consul and his English and Spanish friends might expect a visit from their guns at eight o'clock the next morning.

Accordingly, at that hour the two English privateers stood close in shore; but the guns were not needed, for a boat put off immediately with one of the merchants and Mr. Vanbrugh, bringing the ransom "in kind"—wine, grapes, hogs, and other accessories.

And so they proceeded on their voyage; and a few days later they crossed the tropic of Cancer, which appears to have been made the occasion, in this instance, of some fun with those who had not come so far south before. Usually it is the crossing of the Equator which is selected as the occasion of these delights.

Rogers's tinkers, tailors, pedlars, fiddlers, etc., had a lively time of it. "The manner of doing it was by a rope through a block from the mainyard, to hoist 'em above half-way up to the yard, and let 'em fall at once into the water; having a stick across through their legs, and well fastened to the rope, that they might not be surprised and let go their hold. This proved of great use to our fresh-water sailors, to recover the colour of their skins, which were grown very black and nasty."

Exemption could be purchased at the cost of half-a-crown, the whole amount to be expended on an entertainment for all hands on their return to England. Some of the crew—especially the Dutchmen—begged that they might be ducked ten or twelve times—on the principle that, if immunity could be paid for, an excess of dipping should logically entitle them to a larger share of the pool! Sailors are queer creatures.

After the capture of the small Spanish craft, Rogers found it advisable to lay down some rules, admitting the principle of plunder; he foresaw incessant trouble and probable mutiny in the future, if the right of the crew to the immediate distribution of a certain amount of spoil was not recognised. It was quite irregular, and had not been contemplated by the owners. However, the decision as to what should constitute plunder was, with the consent of the men, left to the senior officers and agents, so there was a certain safeguard against abuse.

The next place of call was the Cape Verde Islands, where they anchored in the harbour of St. Vincent; here they watered with some difficulty, on account of the sea; and they lost one of their crew, one Joseph Alexander, who, by reason of his being a good linguist, was sent in a boat to the Governor at St. Antonio, with a letter, and was left behind to negotiate for supplies. However, he appears to have found the prospect of life in the Cape Verde Islands more promising than privateering. On October 5th "our boat went to St. Antonio to see for our linguist, according to appointment"; on the 6th "our boat returned with nothing but limes and tobacco, and no news of our linguist"; again on the 7th the boat was sent in quest of "our linguist"—and by this time they must have been getting pretty tired of his antics; on the 8th "no news of our linguist"; so, as the Trade-wind blew fresh, they concluded to leave him to practise his linguistic and other accomplishments on shore, and made sail for the coast of Brazil, Captain Rogers summing up the situation in a marginal note: "Our linguist deserts."

The captains frequently exchanged visits, and even had little dinner-parties on board each other's ships, in mid-ocean, when it was held to be necessary to call a council; Rogers was very scrupulous about having everything done in order, and properly recorded. It may appear strange that there should be such frequent communication, especially when a council or dinner-party is recorded together with the remark, "fresh breeze, with heavy sea," and so on; but such boating exploits were the fashion in those days, and very much later. When Nelson was bound for the Baltic, as second in command under Sir Hyde Parker, with whom he was never upon cordial terms, he set his men fishing for turbot on the Doggerbank, and, having caught one, despatched it in a boat to his chief, in spite of a heavy sea and approaching darkness, with a polite note; the mission was accomplished without mishap, and the turbot is said to have brought about a better understanding between the Admirals. Such measures of policy were not, however, very much in Nelson's line. The point is that the seamen of those times must have been very masterly boatmen, for the lowering and hoisting of a boat in a heavy sea is a very ticklish process, in which a small blunder may mean disaster; yet it was constantly done, just for a friendly visit, and we hear of no fatalities arising therefrom.

On October 22nd we hear of more trouble from insubordination. Mr. Page, second mate of the Duchess, refusing to accompany Cook, who was Courtney's second in command, on board the Duke, "occasioned Captain Cook, being the superior officer on board, to strike him, whereupon Page struck him again, and several blows passed; but at last Page was forced into the boat, and brought on board of us. And Captain Cook and others telling us what mutiny had passed, we ordered Page on the forecastle into the bilboes" (leg-irons sliding upon a long iron bar). Page, however, evaded his captors by a ruse and jumped overboard to swim back to his own ship—a dangerous business, somewhere near the Equator, for there is always the chance of a shark. But this foolish attempt availed him little: he was brought back, flogged, and put in irons; and he found a week of this kind of thing sufficient, submitting himself humbly and promising amendment. Captain Rogers was already beginning to realise that the lot of a privateer commander, unless he is willing, as so many were, to degenerate into a mere filibuster, is not a happy one.

Possibly it was this conviction—or maybe that he found the Southern Hemisphere a more devotional environment than the Northern—which occasioned the following entry: "At five last night we were on the Equinoctial [the Equator].... This day we began to read prayers in both ships mornings or evenings, as opportunity would permit, according to the Church of England, designing to continue it the term of the voyage."

Passing by the small island of Trinidad, on the night of November 13th, the two ships lay to, Rogers believing they were near land: and sure enough, at daybreak they sighted the coast of Brazil, and a few days later anchored at Isle Grande, just to the southward of Rio Janeiro.

Here they were very busy—heeling both vessels to clean the bottoms, and executing sundry repairs aloft—all of which was done under a broiling sun, besides getting in a plentiful supply of wood and water, in so short a space of time that we must conclude that Captain Rogers and Captain Courtney had under them both well-disciplined and willing crews; no man-of-war's men could have done better.

Here also Mr. Carleton Vanbrugh, owner's agent on board the Duke, got into trouble for assuming executive command. A boat being manned to overhaul a passing canoe, he shoved off, without any orders, pursued and fired into the canoe, killing an Indian. This officiousness and presumption obtained for him a wigging from Captain Rogers, who also brought the matter before the council: "I thought it a fit time now to resent ignorant and wilful actions publicly, and to show the vanity and mischief of 'em, rather than to delay or excuse such proceedings; which would have made the distemper too prevalent, and brought all to remediless confusion, had we indulged conceited persons with a liberty of hazarding the fairest opportunities of success."

Mr. Vanbrugh was accordingly "logged" as being censured by the council, and was subsequently transferred to the Duchess, his opposite number there, William Bath, taking his place.

On December 3rd they sailed from Isle Grande and made their way down the coast of South America towards Cape Horn, chasing but losing a large French ship on the 26th. On New Year's Day there was a large tub of hot punch on the quarter-deck, of which every man had over a pint to drink the health of the owners and absent friends, a happy New Year, a good voyage, and a safe return. The Duke bore down close to her consort, and there, rolling and lurching at close quarters in the big seas, they exchanged cheers and good wishes.

On January 5th it came on to blow hard, with a heavy sea, and while the mainyard was being lowered on board the Duchess the sail got aback, and a great portion of it bagged in the water on the lee side, the "lift" on that side having given way. This was rather a serious business, in so heavy a sea; they were obliged to put the ship before the wind for a time, and the sea "broke in the cabin windows, and over their stern, filling their steerage and waist, and had like to have spoiled several men; but, God be thanked, all was otherwise indifferent well with 'em, only they were intolerably cold, and everything wet." Next day Rogers found them "in a very orderly pickle, with all their clothes drying, the ship and rigging covered with them from the deck to the maintop."

Though it was high summer in these southern latitudes, they experienced no genial warmth, only gales of wind, with an immense sea; they attained the latitude of 61.53 South, which, as Rogers remarks, was probably the furthest south reached at that time; and so they fought round the Horn, and before the end of January we find the entry: "This is an excellent climate."

This was in latitude 36.36 South, and they were looking forward anxiously to sighting the island of Juan Fernandez. Many of the men had suffered greatly from cold and exposure, some were down with scurvy, and a rest in port, with fresh vegetables and sweet water, was very necessary.

Juan Fernandez was not in those days accurately placed on the chart, and all eyes no doubt were turned to William Dampier to bring them there; which he did on January 31st, though they appear to have had a narrow escape of missing it, for when they sighted land it bore W.S.W., so that they had already somewhat overshot it. When we consider the very inadequate means which these men possessed for navigating thousands of leagues of trackless ocean, and making land which was very inefficiently charted, we can only marvel at their success. The quadrant of those days was a very rough affair, the compass was not perfect in construction, neither were its vagaries understood as they are at the present day—for the compass, emblem of faithfulness and constancy, is, alas! a most capricious and inconstant friend; only we understand it nowadays, and realise that it never—or hardly ever—points due north. Then chronometers, sufficiently reliable to give correct longitude, were not constructed until some sixty years later, when the earliest maker contrived to turn out, to his credit, a marvellously good one. This was John Harrison, and very scurvily he was treated by the authorities, only receiving the full reward which was offered upon the intervention of King George III. on his behalf.

Well, here was Juan Fernandez, and very welcome was the sight of the high land, some five-and-twenty miles distant; but they were becalmed, and got but little nearer for twenty-four hours. Next day, in the afternoon, Rogers consented, rather against his better judgment, to Dover taking a boat in, the land being then at least twelve miles distant. At dark, a bright light was observed on shore, and the boat returned at 2 a.m., Dover having been afraid to land, not knowing what the light could mean.

The general idea was that there were French ships at anchor, and all was prepared for action: "We must either fight 'em or want water, etc."

These desperate measures were not, however, necessary; sailing along the land the following day, the two bays, which afford good anchorage, were found to be empty. The yawl was sent in at noon, and after some hours the pinnace was despatched to see what had become of her; for it was feared that the Spaniards might be in possession.

Presently, however, the pinnace arrived, and, as she approached, it was seen that she carried a passenger—a most fantastic and picturesque person, attired in obviously home-made garments of goatskin.

This, of course, was Alexander Selkirk. On the afternoon of January 31st, sweeping the horizon, as he did so constantly, from his look-out, he had seen the two sails in the offing. As they gradually rose, his experienced eye told him that they were English; dusk was settling down, and they were still a long way off—would they pass by?

Reasonably contented as he had latterly been in his solitude—broken in upon twice by Spaniards, who upon one occasion saw and chased him, forcing him to take refuge in a tree—the sight of these two English ships filled him with a frantic longing to grasp the hand of a countryman, to hear and speak once more his native language. Mad with apprehension lest this joy should be torn, as it were, from his very grasp, he hastily collected materials, and, as darkness set in, lit a huge bonfire. He spent a couple of sleepless nights, keeping up his fire, and preparing some goat's-meat for guests who, he fondly hoped, would appear on the following day.

He saw the boat approaching, and, taking a stick with a rude flag attached, ran down to the beach—they saw him—they shouted to him to point out a good landing place. In a transport of joy at the sound of their voices, he ran round with incredible swiftness, waving them with his flag to follow him.

When they landed he could only embrace them; his emotion was too deep, his speech too rusty—no words could he find; while they, on their part, were mute with surprise at his wild and uncouth appearance.

Recovering themselves at length, Selkirk entertained them as best he could with some of the goat's-flesh which he had prepared, and while they ate he gave them some account of his sojourn and adventures on the island.

There is but little in common with De Foe's description of Robinson Crusoe's doings, excepting, of course, the expedients adopted for obtaining food, which could scarcely have been different.

There was no "man Friday," no mysterious footprint in the sand, no encounter with savages. There was, however, a narrow escape, already alluded to, of capture by Spanish sailors; a fate to which Selkirk decided that he preferred his solitary existence, for the Spaniards would either have ruthlessly murdered him or sold him as a slave to work in their mines. So when he found that he had incautiously exposed himself while reconnoitring, he ran for the woods, the Spaniards in chase; but he had acquired such fleetness of foot in catching the goats that they had no chance, and, sitting aloft in a large tree, he saw them below, completely at fault. They helped themselves to some of the goats, and retired.

In describing his adventures and emotions, Selkirk attributed his eventual contentment in his solitude to his religious training. He appears to have possessed in full measure the deep, emotional religious temperament of the Scots, and this in all probability saved his reason, and certainly deterred him from suicide, which at one time presented itself as the only possible release from acute mental suffering. He used to recite his prayers and sing familiar hymns aloud, and it is easy to understand what an immense solace such exercises were to him.

Learning from Dover and his companions that William Dampier was with the expedition, Selkirk demurred at once to going on board. Not that he had any personal quarrel with Dampier, but he had a most vivid recollection of the hopeless mismanagement of that cruise under his command; of the futile delays, half-fought actions, hastily abandoned plans which promised some measure of success; and he declined to enlist again under such an incompetent chief. This extreme reluctance on Selkirk's part to sail again under the famous navigator constitutes a very strong indictment against Dampier as commander of a privateer; nothing, indeed, could well be stronger. When a man says practically, "I prefer to remain alone on an island to sailing under him," there appears to be little more to be said.

Understanding, however, that Dampier occupied a subordinate position as pilot, he was ready enough to accompany his rescuers; and so presented himself to the "admiring" gaze—using the term as it was frequently used in those days—of the crew of the Duke.

Whatever Selkirk may have thought of Dampier, the latter, recognising him as the former sailing-master of the Cinque Ports, gave him the highest character, declaring that he was the best man on board Stradling's ship; upon which Rogers at once engaged him as a mate on the Duke, in which capacity he was, we are told, greatly respected, "as well on account of his singular adventure as of his skill and good conduct; for, having had his books with him, he had improved himself much in navigation during his solitude."

Such application appears, under the circumstances, almost heroic; there are probably few men so situated who would have had recourse to it.

It was long before Selkirk began to throw off the reserve which was the natural outcome of his solitude, and it is said that the expression of his face was fixed and sedate even after his return to England; nothing, indeed, could ever efface the recollection of those years of absolute loneliness, the grim lessons of self-restraint, endurance, and resignation, so hardly learned.

[5] The reader may be interested to learn that this Thomas Dover was the inventor of the well-known preparation, "Dover's Powder." After his adventures with Woodes Rogers he settled down as a regular practitioner, and in the year 1733 he published a book entitled, "The Ancient Physician's Legacy to his Country," in which the recipe for Dover's Powder appeared; it was afterwards altered, but retained the name. Dover died in 1742.