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
