by C. H. Layman
Signed by
Robert Baynes, Lieutenant
John Cummins, Carpenter
John King, Boatswain
Robert Elliot, Surgeon’s Mate
John Bulkeley, Gunner
Thomas Clark, Master
John Jones, Master’s Mate
John Snow, ditto
The names of the people left on shore in lat. 37:25 S, long 65:00 W.
Guy Broadwater, born Blackwall
John Duck London
Samuel Cooper Ipswich
Benjamin Smith Southwark
Joseph Clinch ditto
John Allen Gosport
John Andrews Manchester
Isaac Morris Topsham
Those people had a good prospect of getting provisions, and we believe inhabitants are not far off. They have all necessaries for shooting; we hope to see them again, but at present we leave them to the care of Providence and the wide world.
Tuesday 19th January, little wind at S and clear weather. At four this morning saw breakers right ahead; sounded, and found five fathom; saw the land making like an island, bearing NE by E distant twelve leagues; steered N for about a mile or two; shoaled the water from two fathom to nine feet; then steered NNE and deepened the water to five fathom. By the appearance of the land we are well up the River Plate, and do take the breakers for the English bank. Steered and sailed all day ENE along shore; in the evening anchored in a fine sandy bay; saw two men coming down on horseback; the Boatswain swam ashore, and got up behind one of them, and rode away to their caravans. When we made the land, we had not one drop of water on board. Several people swam ashore to fill water; one of them when ashore drank very plentifully of water, and in attempting to come off was so weak that he could not reach the vessel, but was unfortunately drowned. Got one cask of water aboard, which revived us exceedingly.
Wednesday 20th, Mr Cummins and myself went ashore. Four of the inhabitants came down to us on horseback. As I could talk Portuguese, I fell into discourse with them. They told me the English were still at war with the Spaniards; that they[44] had two fifty-gun ships up the River Plate, and one sixty-gun ship cruising off Cape St Mary’s; and not above six weeks ago a seventy-gun ship lying at anchor parted from her anchors and drove on shore;[45] that the ship was lost, and every man perished.
They also told me they were Spaniards, Castilians, and fishermen; that they came here a-fishing; the fish they took they salted and dried, then sold them at Buenos Aires. The town they belonged to they called Montevideo, two days journey from hence.
I asked them how they came to live in the King of Portugal’s land. They said there were a great many Spanish settlements on this side, and gave us an invitation to their caravan. We got up behind them, and rode about a mile to it, where they entertained us with good jerk-beef, roasted and boiled, with good white bread. We sought to buy some provision of them, but they had none but twenty-six loaves, about as big as twopenny loaves in England, which they would not part with under four guineas. We being in a weak condition, scarce able to stand on our legs, and without bread for a long time, gave them their price. Their patroon[46] told us at the same time, if it should be known that they had supplied us, they should be all hanged. He promised, if we would give him a firelock,[47] he would get us some wild fowl and as many ducks in an hour or two as would serve all the people aboard. Mr Cummins sent for his firelock and gave it him with some powder and slugs. On our coming away, finding one of their company missing with a horse, we were apprehensive of his being gone to betray us; therefore immediately went on board, got our water in, and made all ready for sailing to the Rio Grande.
Bulkeley’s epic 2500 nautical-mile voyage from Wager Island to Rio Grande in an open boat through the world’s worst seas without a chart, perhaps the greatest feat of castaway navigation of all time(see Appendix D).
Saturday 23rd January, little wind and calm. This day departed this life Mr Thomas Clark, the Master; as did also his son the day following.
Wednesday 27th January 1742, moderate gales at W. At noon had an observation, latitude in 32:40 S. I reckon myself 18 leagues from the Rio Grande, and hope to see it in the morning.
Thursday 28th, kept the shore close aboard, and sounded every half hour, not caring to go within three fathom, nor keep without five, sailing along by the lead all night. At six in the morning saw the opening of the River Grande; kept within the breakers of the bar, having at some times not above seven feet water at half flood; steered NE by E until the river’s mouth was fairly open; then steered N and NNW until abreast of the town; anchored on the east shore in two fathom water. There presently came a boat from the shore, with a sergeant of the army and one soldier. The Lieutenant, myself, and Mr Cummins, with Captain Pemberton of the land forces, went on shore with them. The Commandant, the officers, and people of the place, received us in a most tender and friendly manner. They instantly sent on board to the people four quarters of beef, and two bags of farine bread. We were conducted to the surgeon’s house, the handsomest habitation in the place, where we were most hospitably entertained.
At four in the afternoon the Governor came to town. After a strict enquiry into our misfortunes and the reasons of our coming into this port, being somewhat doubtful that we might be inspectors[48] of their coast, he began to examine me, the Lieutenant having reported me to him as pilot. He asked me if there was a chart of the coast on board, and if not how it was possible we could hit the bar, and venture into so hazardous a place as this is? I told him, as for a chart, we had none of any kind; but I had a good observation the day before, that our vessel drew but a small draught of water; that we kept the lead always going, and in the necessity we were in, we were obliged at all events to venture; and if we had not seen the opening of the river before night, we must have been compelled to run the vessel ashore.
He examined me also concerning the places we stopped at, from Cape Virgin Mary to this port, and more particularly relating to the River Plate. He was very nice in his enquiry of our putting in at Cape St Mary’s, and of the bearings and distance along shore from thence to this port.
When he had thoroughly satisfied himself, he embraced us and blest himself to think of our deliverance, which he termed a miracle. He offered everything the country could afford to our relief; the sick were ordered to be taken care of in the hospital;[49] he took the Lieutenant and the land officers home with him; and desired the Commandant to see that the rest of the officers and people wanted for nothing.
Before he went he informed us, that His Majesty’s ships the Severn and Pearl were at Rio Janeiro in great distress; that they had sent to England for men, and could not sail from thence until the arrival of the Flota,[50] which would be in May or June. He also told us that we should be dispatched in the first vessel which arrived in this port; for he did not think we could with safety go any farther on our own; and that there could not be found twelve seamen in the Brazils that would venture over the bar in her to sail to Rio Janeiro. Therefore he ordered our little Speedwell ashore. This wonder the people are continually flocking to see.
It is now about nine months since we were cast away in the Wager; in which time, I believe, no mortals have experienced more difficulties and miseries than we have. This day may be justly styled the day of our deliverance, and ought to be remembered accordingly.
Chapter 11
Mutineers Return to a Doubtful Future
Rio Grande, 28th January 1742. The Governor looks after them well, but disharmony breaks out among the survivors. Bulkeley, Cummins and Young take passage in a Portuguese ship for Bahia, Brazil, where the Governor is hostile and refuses to help them with money or provisions. After four months’ delay they sail again, and narrowly escape shipwreck off Lisbon. Ashore at Lisbon they hear that Lieutenant Baynes has been there before them and blackened their characters; Bulkeley asserts that his journal will bear him out. They take passage in HMS Stirling Castle to Spithead, but find themselves confined on board on arrival. They are release
d after a fortnight, but the charge of mutiny is in everyone’s mind. Bulkeley still puts his faith in his journal which he submits for Admiralty inspection. An official Board of Inquiry into all the circumstances is deferred until Captain Cheap should return home.
From the journal of John Bulkeley, Gunner
This afternoon the Governor, Commandant and Commissary came on board to see our little Speedwell. They were surprised that thirty souls, the number of people now living, could be stowed in so small a vessel; but that she could contain the number which first embarked with us[51] was to them amazing and beyond all belief. They could not conceive how the man at the helm could steer without falling overboard, there not being above four inches rise from the deck.[52] I told them he sat down and clapped his feet against the rise; and showed them in what manner we secured ourselves.
The Governor, after viewing the vessel over, told us we were more welcome to him in the miserable condition we arrived than if we had brought all the wealth in the world with us. At the same time he fully assured us that he would dispatch us the first opportunity to Rio Janeiro; and whenever we stood in need of anything, he ordered us to acquaint the Commandant, and our wants should be instantly supplied. He then took leave of us, and wished us well. All the deference and dutiful respect we could show him to express a grateful sense of his favour was by manning the vessel,[53] and giving him three cheers.
The next day arrived at this place the Brigadier-governor of the island of St Catharine. He came close by our vessel, and we manned her and gave him three cheers. The soldiers of the garrison, having twenty months’ arrears due to them, expected the Brigadier was come to pay them; but when they found themselves disappointed, they made a great disturbance among themselves.
I applied to the Commandant for a house, the vessel in rainy weather not being fit to lie in. He ordered me one joining to his own, and gave me the key. I took with me Mr Cummins, Mr Jones, Mr Snow, Mr Oakley, and the Cooper. We brought our trifling necessaries on shore, and removed to our new habitation. Here we were dry and warm; and though we had no bedding we lodged very comfortably. Since the loss of the Wager we have been used to lie hard; at present we think ourselves very happily fixed, and heartily wish that all the persons who survived the loss of the ship were in so good a situation as ourselves.
But disagreements, sometimes amounting to blows, arise among the survivors. Bulkeley is at odds with Baynes about raising money by selling the long-boat, how to get away, and who goes first; and the Boatswain’s violent and abusive temper makes trouble with everyone, and particularly with the Cooper. Eventually they get to Rio Janeiro, and from there obtain leave to take passage in the St Tubas, a Portuguese vessel bound for Bahia and Lisbon. Bulkeley, Cummins and Young go aboard.
21st April 1742, early this morning the Captain of the St Tubas came on board. On seeing us he asked us how we came on board without his leave. Notwithstanding he gave leave to the Consul for our passage, we ought to have waited on him ashore. There was on board the ship a Spanish don, a passenger, who told the Captain no Englishman should go in the same ship with him; therefore he desired we might be turned ashore. But the Captain insisted upon doing what he pleased aboard his own ship, and would not comply with his request.
The Spanish don, when we came to converse with him, was very much moved with the relation of our misfortunes; and said to us, though our royal masters, the Kings of England and Spain, were at war, it was not our fault; that we were now on board a neutral ship belonging to a King who was a friend to both nations; that he would not look upon us as enemies, but do us all the service he could. He extolled the conduct and bravery of Admiral Vernon at Portobello; but above all applauded him for his humanity and generous treatment of his enemies. He made great encomiums on the magnificence of the British fleet, and the boldness and intrepidity of the sailors, styling the English “the Soldiers of the Sea.” He supplied us in our passage not only with provisions from his table, but also with wine and brandy; and during the whole voyage appeared so different from an enemy that he took all opportunities of giving us proofs of his generosity and goodness.[54]
Friday 7th May 1742, this morning anchored before the city of Bahia,[55] went on shore to the Viceroy, and showed him the pass we had from the Governor of Rio Janeiro. He told us the pass was to dispatch us to Lisbon, and that the first ship which sailed from hence would be the ship we came in. We petitioned him for provisions, acquainting him of our reception at Rio Grande and Rio Janeiro, that we had hitherto been supplied at the rate of eight vintems[56] each day. He refused supplying us with anything; upon which I told him we had better been prisoners to the King of Spain, who would allow us bread and water, than in a friend’s country to be starved.
The Captain of the ship we came in, hearing the Viceroy would not supply us, was so kind as to go with us to him, acquainting him how we were provided for at Rio Janeiro, and that he would supply us himself, if he would sign an account to satisfy the Consul General at Lisbon, so that he might be reimbursed. The Viceroy answered he had no orders concerning the English, that he had letters from the King of Portugal his master to supply the French but had no orders about any other nation, and if he gave us anything, it must be out of his own pocket; therefore he would not supply us. The Captain then told him that we were officers and subjects to the King of England, and in distress; that we did not want great matters, only barely enough to support life, and begged that he would allow but four vintems per day, being but half the sum hitherto allowed us. The Captain’s entreaties availed nothing, the Viceroy continuing fixed in his resolution of giving us no relief.
I don’t believe there ever was a worse representative of royalty upon the face of the earth than this Viceroy. His royal master the King of Portugal is very well known to have a grateful affection for the British nation, nor can we believe he is so Frenchified as this Viceroy makes him. He has given a proof of his aversion to the English. We think persons in the distress we were represented in to him could in no part of the world be treated with more barbarity than we were here. At this place we must have starved if I had not by me some money and a watch of my own, which I was obliged to turn into money to support us.
Since our being here we have been informed of one of His Majesty’s ships[57] with three store-ships being arrived at Rio Janeiro, supplied with stores and men for the relief and assistance of the Severn and Pearl (which were sailed before in January last for Barbados), and that our people were gone on board of them, and bound for the West Indies.[58]
After living here above four months without any relief from the Governor or the inhabitants, who behaved to us as if they were under a combination to starve us, we embarked on board the St Tubas with our good friend the Captain who brought us from Rio Janeiro. We sailed from Bahia 11th September for Lisbon, in company with one of the King of Portugal’s ships of war and two East-India ships; but the St Tubas not being able to sail so well as the other ships lost sight of them the first night. About 70 leagues to the west of Madeira we bent on a new foresail; within two or three days afterwards we had a very hard gale of wind, scudding under the foresail, and no danger happening to the ship during this gale. Then the wind ceased and we had fair weather.
On Monday 23rd November, in the latitude 39:17 N and longitude 6:00 W, at noon the Rock of Lisbon bearing S by W distant sixteen leagues, we steered ESE to make the Rock before night. At four o’clock it blew a very hard gale and right on the shore. The ship lay to under a foresail with her head to the southward. At six it blew a storm; the foresail splitting, it obliged us to keep her before the wind, which was running her right on the shore.
The ship was now given over for lost. The people all fell to prayers and cried out to their saints for deliverance, offering all they had in the world for their lives. And yet at the same time they neglected all means to save themselves: they left off pumping the ship, though she was exceeding leaky. This sort of proceeding in time of extremity is a thing unknown to our English seamen; in those
emergencies all hands are employed for the preservation of the ship and people, and if any of them fall upon their knees it is after the danger is over. The Carpenter and myself could by no means relish this behaviour. We begged the people for God’s sake to go to the pumps, telling them we had a chance to save our lives while we kept the ship above water, and that we ought not to suffer the ship to sink while we could keep her free. The Captain and officers, hearing us pressing them so earnestly, left off prayers and entreated the men to keep the pumps going; accordingly we went to pumping, and preserved ourselves and the ship.
In half an hour afterwards the wind shifted to the WNW, then the ship lay south, which would clear the course along shore. Had the wind not shifted we must in an hour’s time have run the ship ashore. This deliverance, as well as the former, was owing to the intercession of Nuestra Senhora Boa Mortua.[59] On this occasion they collected fifty moidores[60] more, and made this pious resolution, that when the ship arrived safe at Lisbon the foresail, which was split in the last gale of wind, should be carried in procession to the church of this grand saint, and the Captain should there make an offering equal in value to the foresail, which was reckoned worth eighteen moidores.
On Saturday 28th November, we arrived at Lisbon, and on the next morning every person who came in the ship (excepting the Carpenter, myself, and the Cooper), officers, passengers, the Spanish don himself, and all the people, men and boys, walked barefooted, with the foresail in procession, to the Church of Nuestra Senhora Boa Mortua; the weather at that time being very cold, and the church a good mile distant from the landing-place.