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,
