Shelvocke had, however, apparently determined from the first that he would not sail under Clipperton—at least, that is the only conclusion that can be arrived at, from the different accounts—and he took advantage of this storm to carry out his design. In his account of the voyage, he tries to make out that Clipperton deserted him; but, seeing that he himself records the fact that he steered next morning to the north-west, which certainly was not the course for the Canary Islands, while Clipperton steered south by east, which was, approximately, there would appear to be no question about the matter; in fact, Shelvocke deliberately wasted time, while Clipperton, waiting for him in vain at various rendezvous, proceeded on his voyage alone, and was in the South Seas before Shelvocke had got anywhere near Cape Horn.
The owners had stipulated that the expedition should proceed upon the lines of Rogers, and had provided each captain with a copy of his journal; but there was no attempt made to carry out these instructions. We find no regular journal kept, no council meetings, no proper command over the crew; and, so far from emulating Rogers's scrupulous observation of the law, which brought him into conflict with his crew, Shelvocke did not refrain from acts of piracy when it suited him.
His first exploit was overhauling a Portuguese vessel off Cape Frio, in Brazil; and there is a very marked difference between his account and that of William Betagh, who published his own experiences some two years after Shelvocke's book came out. Shelvocke says: "On Friday, June 5th, in the afternoon, we saw a ship stemming with us, whom we spake with. I ordered the five-oared boat to be hoisted out and sent Captain Hatley in her to inquire what news on the coast, and gave him money to buy some tobacco; for the Success had got our stock on board of that (as well as other things), which created a West-country famine amongst us. When Hatley returned he told me she was a Portuguese from Rio Janeiro, and bound to Pernambuco, that he could get no tobacco, and had therefore laid out my money in unnecessary trifles, viz. china cups and plates, a little hand-nest of drawers, four or five pieces of china silk, sweetmeats, bananas, plantains, and pumpkins, etc. I gave him to understand that I was not at all pleased with him for squandering away my money in so silly a manner. He answered that he thought what he did was for the best, that he had laid out his own money as well as mine, and in his opinion to a good advantage, and that, to his knowledge, the things he bought would sell for double the money they cost at the next port we were going to. However, I assured him I did not like his proceedings by any means."
Betagh's version of the incident is somewhat otherwise: "On June 5th, 1719, we met a Portuguese merchantman near Cape Frio. Our captain ordered the Emperor's colours to be hoisted, which, without any reflection, look the most thief-like of any worn by honest men; those of his Imperial Majesty are a black spread-eagle in a yellow field, and those of the pirates a yellow field and black human skeleton; which at a small distance are not easily distinguished, especially in light gales of wind. So he brings her to, by firing a musket thwart her forefoot, sends aboard her the best busker (as he himself called Hatley), with a boat's crew; each man armed with a cutlass and a case of pistols. The Portuguese not only imagines his ship made prize, but thinks also how he shall undergo that piece of discipline used by the merry blades in the West Indies, called blooding and sweating.... So Don Pedro, to save his bacon, took care to be very officious or yare-handed (as we say), with his present. For no sooner was Hatley on his quarter-deck but the Portuguese seamen began to hand into the boat the fruits and refreshments they had on board, as plantains, bananas, lemons, oranges, pomegranates, etc., three or four dozen boxes of marmalade and other sweetmeats, some Dutch cheeses, and a large quantity of sugars. If they had stopped here it was well enough, and might pass as a present; but after this there came above a dozen pieces of silk, several of which were flowered with gold and silver, worth at least three pounds a yard, by retail; several dozen of china plates and basins, a small Japan cabinet, not to mention what the men took.... Among other things, Hatley brought the last and handsomest present of all, a purse of 300 moidores. This convinced Shelvocke he was not deceived in calling Hatley the best busker; that is, an impudent sharp fellow, who, perhaps to reingratiate himself, did the devil's work, by whose laudable example our boat's crew robbed the man of more than I can pretend to say; but I remember the boat was pretty well laden with one trade or another, and none of the officers dared so much as peep into her till all was out. While these things were handing into the ship a sham kind of quarrel ensues between our chieftains."
Betagh's view is corroborated by the fact that, when Shelvocke returned to England, he was arraigned on a charge of piracy for this very incident.
Dawdling down the coast, they spent nearly two months at St. Catherine's Island, Brazil, where there was a great deal of trouble with the crew, who drew up new articles for the regulation of the distribution of spoil, which Shelvocke found himself eventually compelled to sign, having previously, according to his own account, quelled a mutiny with the assistance of M. de la Jonquière, the captain of a French-manned ship which had been employed under Spanish colours—the whole of which is a most improbable, nay, incredible story, and is ridiculed by Betagh.
On rounding Cape Horn, Shelvocke got very nearly as far south as Rogers had done, and here there is mention of an incident which has a certain interest. Says Shelvocke: "We all observed that we had not had the sight of one fish of any kind, since we were come to the southward of the Straits of Le Mair, nor one sea-bird, except a disconsolate black albatross, who accompanied us for several days, hovering about us as if he had lost himself; till Hatley, observing, in one of his melancholy fits, that this bird was always hovering near us, imagined, from his colour, that it might be some ill omen. That which, I suppose, induced him the more to encourage his superstition, was the continued series of contrary tempestuous winds which had oppressed us ever since we had got into this sea. But be that as it would, he, after some fruitless attempts, at length shot the albatross, not doubting, perhaps, that we should have a fair wind after it."
Many years afterwards, in 1797, one English poet—Wordsworth—mentioned to another—Coleridge—that he had been reading Shelvocke's account of his voyage and related the albatross incident, which Coleridge introduced into "The Ancient Mariner" in the following year. It does not appear, however, that the crew of the Speedwell expressed any indignation at Hatley's act, or proceeded to any such extreme measure as hanging the dead albatross—which was probably not recovered—round his neck; and, whatever may have been the superstitious significance attached to the continual hovering of the solitary bird about the ship—not at all an unusual incident in that latitude—no change resulted from its death, the boisterous winds and huge mile-long seas continuing to buffet the ship without reprieve; and it was six weeks before they got fairly round the Horn and sighted the coast of Chili.
Shelvocke, still bent, apparently, upon killing time, put into Chiloe and Concepcion on trivial pretexts, and at the latter place captured one or two prizes of trifling value; but, a party being sent in a small prize which they had renamed Mercury to capture a vessel laden with wine, etc., in a bay about six miles distant, were cleverly ambushed by the natives. They found the vessel, but she was hauled up on shore, and empty; seeing a small house near by, they imagined her cargo was stored there, and, running up to it, helter-skelter, out came the enemy, mounted, each man lying along his horse and driving before them a double rank of unbacked horses, linked together. The Englishmen were quite powerless to resist, so they fled for their ship, which had grounded, the horsemen pursuing with guns and lassos. James Daniel, one of Shelvocke's foremast men, was lassoed just as he was wading out, and was dragged on shore, as he described it, "at the rate of ten knots." However, he appears to have escaped after all; but five of the party were overtaken and captured, three being killed and the others severely wounded. Another ship named St. Fermin, which they captured, Shelvocke eventually burned, after the Spaniards had repeatedly failed to send the money which had been agreed upon for her ransom.
And so they sailed for Juan Fernandez, "to see," as Shelvocke says, "if we could find by any marks that the Success was arrived in these seas," and arrived off the island on January 12th, 1720. Shelvocke, however, would not go in and anchor at first; he appears to have been unwilling to seek any evidence of Clipperton's visit, and kept standing off and on, fishing and filling the water-casks; until one day, "some of my men accidentally saw the word 'Magee,' which was the name of Clipperton's surgeon, and 'Captain John,' cut out under it upon a tree, but no directions left, as was agreed on by him in his instructions to me."