On the 15th of April, when nearing their intended anchorage, an unfortunate incident occurred. In an attack on a French-built ship belonging to Lima, Rogers’s younger brother John was killed in attempting to board her. Though we must sympathise with Rogers when he speaks of his “unspeakable sorrow” on this occasion, we cannot but admire his pluck when he philosophically adds that “the greatest misfortune or obstacle shall not deter” him from the object that he had in view. Within twenty-four hours Rogers had captured the ship, eventually naming her the Marquis, and increasing her armament from 12 to 20 guns.
On the 19th a landing was effected on the Island of Puna, and at midnight on the 22nd, the ships’ boats with 110 men arrived in sight of the town of Guiaquil. On the top of an adjoining hill a blazing beacon showed that an alarum had been raised. Bells were violently rung, and muskets and guns were discharged to awake the inhabitants. A hurried consultation was now held between Rogers and his chief officers, and both Dampier and Dover were against proceeding with the attack. Cautious counsels prevailed, and the plan for taking the town by surprise having failed, negotiations were opened with the governor for its ransom. A sum of 50,000 pieces-of-eight[15] was demanded, but the town could only raise 30,000. Rogers thereupon broke off the negotiations and while the ships bombarded the town he landed a force of 70 men and guns. Rogers has minutely described the attack, and space forbids dwelling on it here; suffice it to say that within an hour the enemy were in full retreat and the English were masters of the city. Other reinforcements were now landed and strategic points in the city occupied, while parties were told off to plunder. An agreement was eventually drawn up for the payment of 30,000 pieces-of-eight as ransom, to be paid within six days. On the 27th of April Rogers and his men marched down to the boats with colours flying, and the plunder was safely stowed aboard. At 8 o’clock the next morning they sailed with “drums beating, trumpets sounding, and guns booming,” and thus took leave of the Spaniards “very cheerfully.”
It was now decided to make the “utmost despatch” for the Galapagos Islands off the coast of Peru. In the passage there a malignant fever contracted at Guiaquil, broke out among the crews of both ships, and on the morning of the 17th when in sight of the Galapagos no less than 60 were down on the Duke, and upwards of 80 on the Dutchess.
On arrival at the island it was agreed to separate in order to search for fresh water, but none was discovered. Finding that punch preserved his own health, Rogers records that he “prescribed it freely among such of the ship’s company as were well.” Though it was thought when setting out from Bristol that they had sufficient medicines aboard, Rogers now laments that with so many sick in both ships the supplies were inadequate.
Owing to the absence of water it was decided to steer for the island of Gorgona, near the mainland. Here a supply of fresh water was available, and the sick were brought ashore and placed in tents to recruit their health. The opportunity was now taken to caulk and careen the ships and examine the prizes. In discharging the cargo of the galleon, which Rogers had named the Marquis, he found in her, to his amazement, “500 Bales of Pope’s Bulls, 16 reams in a Bale,” and a quantity of bones in small boxes “ticketed with the names of Romish Saints, some of which had been dead 7 or 800 years.” A more inconvenient cargo for a privateer would be difficult to imagine, and as they took up such a lot of room in the ship, Rogers records that he threw most of them overboard “to make room for better goods,” except some of the Papal Bulls which he used “to burn the pitch off our ships’ bottoms when we careened them.” In extenuation for what may seem an impious act, Rogers states that it was impossible to read them as the print “looked worse than any of our old ballads.”
After two months’ stay at Gorgona the crew had sufficiently recuperated to continue the cruise, and on the 7th of August the ships sailed from the island, bound southward. On board the Duke were 35 negroes, “lusty fellows,” selected from some of the Spanish prizes. Rogers called them together, and explained his plan of campaign, telling them that if they fought and behaved themselves well in the face of an enemy they should be free men, upon which “32 of them immediately promised to stand to it as long as the best Englishman, and desired they might be improved in the use of arms.” To confirm the contract, Rogers gave them a suit of “Bays,” and “made them drink a dram all round” to the success of the voyage. In order that nothing should be wanting he staged a sham fight to exercise them “in the use of our great guns and small arms,” and in the heat of the engagement “to imitate business,” red-lead mixed with water, was liberally sprinkled over them; “a very agreeable diversion,” comments Rogers.
And so for the real business, the capture of the Manila ship. All the romance of buccaneering and privateering hangs round these great treasure galleons, the annual ships from Manila to Acapulco, and the sister ships from Acapulco to Manila. It was the golden dream of every sailor who sailed these seas to capture one of them, but although many had made the attempt, only one prior to this, that famous Elizabethan seaman Thomas Cavendish, had actually done so, in 1587.[16] Here was a feat worthy of emulation, and so, in the November of 1709, we find Rogers and his little squadron cruising off Cape St. Lucas waiting and watching in the “very place” and in the same month where Cavendish “took the Manila ship” one hundred and twenty-two years earlier. It was a long and weary watch which tested both the temper and the mettle of the men to the extreme. Through the whole of November no sign of the treasure ship was to be seen; several of the men mutinied and were confined in irons, and two others broke open the store room and stole from the fast diminishing stock of victuals. By the 20th of December provisions were at such a low ebb that Rogers records “we all looked very melancholy and dispirited,” and after consultation with his officers it was agreed to make for the Island of Guam “with the utmost dispatch” in order to revictual. All hope of falling in with the Manila ship had been practically abandoned, when at 9 o’clock on the following morning a man at the masthead of the Duke cried out that he saw a sail distant about 7 leagues “bearing West half south of us.”
At this “great and joyful surprize” the English ensign was immediately hoisted, and both the Duke and Dutchess “bore away after her.” The weather had now “fallen calm,” and all through that day and the next Rogers hung on to his prey, with his two pinnaces tending her “all night,” and showing “false fires” that they might keep in touch. Before nightfall on the 22nd, both the Duke and Dutchess cleared for action, and everything was made ready to engage the ship at daybreak. As day dawned the chase was observed upon the Duke’s weather bow, about a league away, while the Dutchess was ahead of her “to leeward near about half as far.” The ships were now becalmed, and Rogers was forced to get “out 8 of our ships oars, and rowed above an hour.” A light breeze then sprang up and carried them gently towards the enemy. There was no time to be lost; not a dram of liquor was in the ship to fortify the spirits of the men, so a large kettle of chocolate was boiled and served out to the crew, who when they had emptied their pannikins, went to prayers like true British sailors. Ere long their devotions were disturbed by the enemy’s gunfire, and about eight o’clock the Duke began to engage the Spaniard single-handed; the Dutchess “being to leeward, and having little wind, could not get up in time.” The enemy presented a most formidable aspect with powder barrels hanging at each yard-arm, “to deter us from boarding.”
As the Duke approached she received the fire of the enemy’s stern-chasers, to which she was only able to reply with her fore-chasers. Holding on her course she soon ranged alongside the great galleon, and gave her several broadsides. The precision and rapidity of the English gunners was apparent from the first, and after a little while the Duke “shot a little ahead” and placing herself across the bows of the galleon, plied her guns with such good effect that the Spaniard hauled her colours “two thirds down” and surrendered.[17] The fight, which was hotly contested, according to Rogers, lasted “about three glasses,” and on board the Spaniard 9 men were killed and several wounded. On the English side only two were wounded, Rogers and an Irish landsman. Rogers’s wound was a serious one; he was shot in the left cheek, the bullet carrying away part of his upper jaw. As he lay on the deck writhing in agony, he pluckily delivered his orders in writing.
Two days later, although he had “much ado to swallow any sort of liquids,” and was obviously very ill, it was decided to cruise for a larger ship which the prisoners stated had sailed from Manila at the same time. On Christmas eve the Dutchess and the Marquis sailed out of the harbour of Port Segura to search for the larger ship. The inability of the former to engage the other Spanish ship in time had caused “some reflections amongst the sailors,” and it was decided by a majority of the Council that Rogers with the Duke and the prize should wait in harbour to refit—much “against our will.” However, Rogers was not to be put aside. He placed two men on an adjoining hilltop to signal as soon as the Spanish ship was sighted, and on the 26th he stood out to sea to join his consorts. By 9 o’clock in the morning the Dutchess was observed engaging the Spaniard, and the Marquis “standing to them with all the sail she could crowd.” Unfortunately at this moment the Duke was some twelve miles to leeward, and as the wind was light she made little way. By the afternoon the Dutchess was joined in the attack by the Marquis, but the latter soon fell to leeward out of cannon shot, being apparently temporarily disabled. Fortunately she soon recovered, and renewed the attack with great vigour “for 4 glasses and upwards.” The brunt of the fighting having fallen on the Dutchess she now “stretched ahead to windward” of the enemy, to repair her rigging and stop a leak. In the meantime the Marquis kept firing several broadsides until the Dutchess “bore down again,” when the fight was renewed until nightfall. All this time Rogers in the Duke was crowding on all sail to come to his consorts’ assistance. At daybreak the wind shifted, and Rogers was able to bring his guns to bear. The Dutchess being now “thwart the Spaniards hawse,” and plying her guns very fast, those that missed their target, exposed the Duke to a serious risk “if we had lain on her quarters and across her stem, as I had designed.” Rogers now ranged his ship alongside the Spaniard, and for 4 glasses continued pouring broadsides into her. The Duke now received two shots in her mainmast, which disabled her, and a fire ball lighting on her quarter-deck blew up a chest of gunpowder, and nearly fired the ship. The Dutchess was in much the same plight, and “having our rigging shattered very much,” Rogers records, “we sheered off, and brought to.”