Captain Cleveland had secured his sea-otter skins at the rate of one flint-lock musket for eight prime pelts, and his cargo was worth sixty thousand dollars in the Canton market. For this return he had risked eleven thousand dollars, and his share of the profits amounted to two-thirds of the whole, or forty thousand dollars. He sold the cutter, and went to Calcutta in her as a passenger, with forty-six thousand dollars as his capital for another fling at fortune. He had been away from Salem a little more than two years, and at the age of twenty-five had wrested from the seas a competence sufficient to have comfortably supported him ashore. But he had no intention of forsaking the great game he was playing with such high-hearted assurance.
During the voyage from Canton to Calcutta while the cutter was off Malacca, “we saw a fleet of eleven Malay proas pass by to the eastward, from whose view we supposed ourselves to have been screened by the trees and bushes near which we were lying. On perceiving so great a number of large proas sailing together, we felt convinced they must be pirates, and immediately loaded our guns and prepared for defence; although conscious of the fact that the fearful odds between our crew of ten men and theirs, which probably exceeded a hundred for each vessel, left us scarce a ray of hope of successful resistance.
“We watched their progress therefore, with that intense interest which men may naturally be supposed to feel whose fortunes, liberty and lives were dependent on the mere chance of their passing by without seeing us. To our great joy they did so, and when the sails of the last of the fleet were no longer visible from our deck, and we realized the certainty of our escape, our feelings of relief were in proportion to the danger that had threatened us. On arriving at Malacca, the curiosity of the people was greatly excited to know how we had escaped the fleet of pirates which had been seen from the town.”
Arriving at Calcutta Captain Cleveland was disappointed in his expectations of sending home a cargo of goods upon terms which should swell his profits, so he began to plan a voyage in which the rewards might be in fairer proportion to the risks he was ready to undertake. The East India Company forbade communication between Bengal and the Isle of France, but Captain Cleveland foresaw an opportunity to pick up at a bargain the rich prizes and cargoes that French privateers were carrying into the latter port. Therefore, he bought a mite of a twenty-five ton pilot boat, had her sent to the Danish settlement of Serampore, put her under the Danish flag, and stole away into the Indian Ocean. For forty-five days he held on his course blistering under a tropic sun, and as he ingenuously explained to account for his foolhardiness: “Pleasing myself with the idea that all will turn out for the best, time passes as lightly with me as with most people, and I am persuaded that few people enjoy a greater share of happiness than myself, if you can conceive of there being any happiness in building airy castles and pursuing them nearly around the globe till they vanish, and then engaging in a fresh pursuit.”
The youthful merchant navigator fared safely in his cock-boat to the Isle of France and was again disappointed in his commercial air-castles. The privateers had sold their prizes and were winging it out to sea in search of more British plunder. For ten months he waited in the hope of a reopening of trade between America and the French colonies. At length he loaded seven thousand bags of coffee on board a Danish ship bound for Copenhagen, and sailed as a passenger. With him went Nathaniel Shaler of Connecticut, a sterling American merchant whom he had met in the Isle of France and who was a partner in this coffee adventure to Copenhagen.
They sold their cargo for a large profit, and then began to look about for a vessel suitable to undertake a voyage to the west coast of South America, a project which the twain had worked out during their companionship at sea. They found at Hamburg a fast and roomy Virginia-built brig, the Lelia Byrd, which they bought. Shaler was made captain by the toss of a coin, Captain Cleveland signing the ship’s papers as supercargo. While in Hamburg they had formed a warm friendship with a youthful Polish nobleman, Count de Rousillon, who had been an aide-de-camp to Kosciusko. His personality was most engaging, his love of adventure ardent, and his means slender, wherefore he embraced with enthusiasm the invitation to join the two young Americans in their voyage to South America. Alas, the glamor of such romance as was their fortune to enjoy has long since vanished from commerce, afloat and ashore. They were three seafaring “Musketeers” all under thirty years of age, setting forth to beard the viceroys of Spain.
Richard Cleveland had now been a cheerful exile from Salem for four years, following the star of his destiny in almost every ocean, escaping dangers uncounted with the skin of his teeth and by his sagacity, resolution and shrewdness finding himself richer for every audacious voyage. For two and a half years longer, he was to sail in the Lelia Byrd among the Spanish peoples of the South American coast before his wanderings should lead him home to Salem.
From Hamburg the brig went to Rio Janeiro where they were not allowed to trade, and thence doubled Cape Horn and reached Valparaiso in February in 1802. They were startled and alarmed to find four American vessels under detention by the Spanish government. After spirited correspondence with the Captain General at Santiago the Lelia Byrd was permitted to buy supplies sufficient for resuming her voyage and to sell so much of the cargo as would pay for the same. While at anchor in the bay, Captain Cleveland and his friends witnessed a tragedy which convinced them that the sooner they could get to sea the better. The American ship Hazard of Providence, Captain Rowan, which had touched for provisions, had on board several hundred muskets shipped in Holland and consigned to the Northwest Coast. The Governor ordered Captain Rowan to deliver up these arms as violating treaty stipulations. The American skipper saw no good reason why he should obey and refused to let a file of Spanish soldiers on board his ship.
The Governor flew into a violent passion, ordered every American merchant ashore to be locked up in the castle, and commanded an eighteen-gun Spanish merchant ship to bring her broadside to bear on the Hazard and demand Captain Rowan’s surrender under pain of being sunk at his moorings. The skipper replied that they might fire if they pleased, and nailed his stars and stripes to his masthead.
Shaler, Rousillon, and Cleveland, happening to be ashore, were swept up by the Governor’s drag-net order and sent to the castle as prisoners. Next day they were offered liberty without explanation, but the indignant trio from the Lelia Byrd refused to be set free until a proper apology had been made them. It was finally agreed that as Captain Shaler was nominal master of the brig, he should stay in prison while his comrades made matters hot for the offending Governor.