Whilst the ships remained at Conception, the people were employed in killing of cattle and salting them for the voyage, and every ship took on board as many bullocks and sheep as their decks could well hold, and having completed their business here, they sailed the 27th of January; but about eight days after our ship sprung a very dangerous leak forward, but so low, that there was no possibility of stopping it without returning into port, and lightening her till they could come at it. Accordingly we separated from the other ships, and made the best of our way for Valparaiso, keeping all hands at the pump night and day, passengers and all. However, as it happened, this proved a lucky circumstance for the Lys, as the three other ships were taken, and which certainly would have been her fate likewise had she kept company with the rest. As soon as we got into port, they lightened the ship forwards, and brought her by the stern till they came at the leak, which was soon, stopped. They made all the dispatch possible in completing the water again. Whilst at Valparaiso, we had one of the most violent shocks of an earthquake that we had ever felt yet.
On the first of March we put to sea again, the season being already far advanced for passing Cape Horn. The next day we went to an allowance of a quart of water a day for each man, which continued the whole passage. We were obliged to stand a long way to the westward, and went to the northward of Juan Fernandez above a degree, before we had a wind that we could make any southing with. On the 25th, in the latitude of 46 degrees, we met with a violent hard gale at west, which obliged us to lie-to under a reefed mainsail for some days, and before we got round the cape, we had many very hard gales, with a prodigious sea and constant thick snow; and after being so long in so delightful a climate as Chili, the cold was almost insupportable. After doubling the cape, we got but slowly to the northward; and indeed, at the best of times, the ship never went above six knots, for she was a heavy-going thing. On the 27th of May we crossed the Line, when finding that our water was grown extremely short, and that it would be almost impossible to reach Europe without a supply, it was resolved to bear away for Martinico. On the 29th of June, in the morning, we made the island of Tobago, and then shaped a course for Martinico, and on the first of July, by our reckonings, expected to see it, but were disappointed. This was imputed to the currents, which, whether they had set the ship to the eastward or westward, nobody could tell; but, upon looking over the charts, it was imagined, if the current had driven her to the westward, it must have been among the Granadillos, which was thought impossible without seeing any of them, as they are so near together, and a most dangerous place for rocks. It was then concluded we were to the eastward, and accordingly we steered S.W. by W.; but having run this course for above thirty leagues, and no land appearing, it was resolved to stand to the northward till we should gain the latitude of Porto Rico, and on the 4th in the evening we made that island, so that it was now certain the ship had been hustled through the Granadillos in the night, which was, without doubt, as extraordinary a passage as ever ship made.
It was now resolved to go between the islands of Porto Rico and St. Domingo for Cape Francois, therefore we lay-to that night. In the morning, we made sail along shore; and about ten o'clock, as I was walking the quarter-deck, Captain Cheap came out of the cabin, and told me he had just seen a beef- barrel go by the ship, that he was sure it had but lately been thrown overboard, and that he would venture any wager we saw an English cruizer before long. In about half an hour after, we saw two sail to leeward from, off the quarter-deck, for they kept no look-out from the mast-head, and we presently observed they were in chace of us. The French and Spaniards on board now began to grow a good deal alarmed, when it fell stark calm, but not before the ships had neared us so much, that we plainly discerned them to be English men of war, the one a two-decker, the other a twenty-gun ship. The French had now thoughts, when a breeze should spring up, of running the ship on shore upon Porto Rico; but when they came to consider what a set of banditti inhabited that island, and that in all probability they would have their throats cut for the sake of plundering the wreck, they were resolved to take their chance, and stand to the northward between the two islands.
In the evening, a fresh breeze sprung up, and we shaped a course accordingly. The two ships had it presently afterwards, and neared us amazingly fast. Now every body on board gave themselves up; the officers were busy in their cabins filling their pockets with what was most valuable; the men put on their best clothes, and many of them came to me with little lumps of gold, desiring I would take them, as they said they had much rather I should benefit by them, whom they were acquainted with, than those that chaced them. I told them there was time enough, though I thought they were as surely taken as if the English had been already on board. A fine moonlight night came on, and we expected every moment to see the ships alongside of us; but we saw nothing of them in the night, and to our great astonishment in the morning no ships were to be seen even from the mast-head. Thus did these two cruizers lose one of the richest prizes by not chasing an hour or two longer. There were near two millions of dollars on board, besides a valuable cargo.
On the eighth, at six in the morning, we were off Cape La Grange; and, what is very remarkable, the French at Cape Francois told us afterwards that was the only day they ever remembered since the war, that the cape had been without one or two English privateers cruising off it; and but the evening before two of them had taken two outward-bound St Domingo-men, and had gone with them for Jamaica, so that this ship might be justly esteemed a most lucky one. In the afternoon we came to an anchor in Cape Francois harbour.
In this long run we had not buried a single man, nor do I remember that there was one sick the whole passage, but at this place many were taken ill, and three or four died, for there is no part of the West Indies more unhealthy than this; yet the country is beautiful, and extremely well cultivated. After being here some time, the governor ordered us to wait upon him, which we did, when he took no more notice of us than if we had been his slaves, never asking us even to sit down.
Towards the end of August, a French squadron of five men of war came in, commanded by Monsieur L'Etanducre, who were to convoy the trade to France. Neither he nor his officers ever took any kind of notice of Captain Cheap, though we met them every day ashore. One evening, as we were going aboard with the captain of our ship, a midshipman belonging to Monsieur L'Etanducre jumped into our boat, and ordered the people to carry him on board the ship he belonged to, leaving us to wait upon the beach for two hours before the boat returned.
On the sixth of September, we put to sea, in company with the five men of war and about fifty sail of merchantmen. On the eighth, we made the Cayco Grande; and the next day a Jamaica privateer, a large fine sloop, hove in sight, keeping a little to windward of the convoy, resolving to pick up one or two of them in the night if possible. This obliged Monsieur L'Etanducre to send a frigate to speak to all the convoy, and order them to keep close to him in the night, which they did, and in such a manner, that sometimes seven or eight of them were on board one another together, by which they received much damage; and to repair which, the whole squadron was obliged to lay-to sometimes for a whole day. The privateer kept her station, jogging on with the fleet. At last, the commodore ordered two of his best going ships to chace her. She appeared to take no notice of them till they were pretty near her, and then would make sail and be out of sight presently. The chacing ships no sooner returned, than the privateer was in company again.
As by this every night some accident happened to some of the convoy by keeping so close together, a fine ship of thirty guns belonging to Marseilles, hauled out a little to windward of the rest of the fleet, which L'Etanducre perceiving in the morning, ordered the frigate to bring the captain of her on board of him; and then making a signal for all the convoy to close to him, he fired a gun, and hoisted a red flag at the ensign staff, and immediately after the captain of the merchantman was run up to the main-yard-arm, and from thence ducked three times. He was then sent on board his ship again, with orders to keep his colours flying the whole day, in order to distinguish him from the rest. We were then told, that the person who was treated in this cruel manner was a young man of an exceeding good family in the south of France, and likewise a man of great spirit, and that he would not fail to call Monsieur L'Etanducre to an account when an opportunity should offer; and the affair made much noise in France afterwards. One day, the ship we were in happened to be out of her station, by sailing so heavily, when the commodore made the signal to speak to our captain, who seemed frightened out of his wits. When we came near him, he began with the grossest abuse, threatening our captain, that if ever he was out of his station again, he would serve him as he had done the other. This rigid discipline, however, preserved the convoy; for though the privateer kept company a long time, she was not so fortunate as to meet with the reward of her perseverance.
On the 27th of October, in the evening, we made Cape Ortegal, and on the 31st came to an anchor in Brest road. The Lys, having so valuable a cargo on board, was towed into the harbour next morning, and lashed alongside one of their men of war. The money was soon landed; and the officers and men, who had been so many years absent from their native country, were glad to get on shore. Nobody remained on board but a man or two to look after the ship, and we three English prisoners, who had no leave to go ashore. The weather was extremely cold, and felt particularly so to us, who had been so long used to hot climates; and what made it still worse, we were very thinly clad. We had neither fire nor candle, for they were allowed on board of no ship in the harbour for fear of accidents, being close to their magazines in the dock-yard. Some of the officers belonging to the ship were so kind as to send us off victuals every day, or we might have starved, for Monsieur L'Intendant never sent us even a message; and though there was a very large squadron of men of war fitting out at that time, not one officer belonging to them ever came near Captain Cheap. From five in the evening we were obliged to sit in the dark; and if we chose to have any supper, it was necessary to place it very near us before that time, or we never could have found it.