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THE MONARCHS OF THE MAIN;
Or,
Adventures of the Buccaneers.
by
GEORGE W. THORNBURY, ESQ.
"One foot on sea and one on shore,
To one thing constant never."
MUCH ADO ABOUT NOTHING.
In Three Volumes.
VOL. I.
London:
Hurst and Blackett, Publishers,
Successors to Henry Colburn,
13, Great Marlborough Street.
1855.
London: Sercombe and Jack, 16 Great Windmill Street.
CONTENTS OF VOL. I.
CHAPTER I.--THE PRECURSORS OF THE BUCCANEERS.
History of Tortuga--Description of the island--Origin of the
Buccaneers--Conquest of Tortuga by the French and English--Hunters,
planters, and corsairs--Le Basque takes Maracaibo--War with the
Spaniards of Hispaniola--The French West Indian Company buy
Tortuga--Their various governors 1
CHAPTER II.--MANNERS OF THE HUNTERS.
Indian derivation of the word Buccaneer--Flibustier--The three
classes--Dress of the hunters--West Indian scenery--Method of
hunting--Wild dogs--Anecdotes--Wild oxen--Wild boars and wild
horses--Buccaneer dainties--Cow-killing, English, French, and Spanish
methods--Amusements--Duels--Adventures--Conflicts with the Fifties, or
Spanish militia--The hunters driven to sea--Turn corsairs--The hunters'
_engages_, or apprentices--Hide curing--Hardships of the bush life--The
planters' _engages_--Cruelties of planters--The _matelotage_--Huts,
manners, and food 35
CHAPTER III.--THE FLIBUSTIERS, OR SEA ROVERS.
Originated in the Spanish persecution of French hunters--Customs--"No
peace beyond the line"--"No prey, no pay"--Pay and pensions--Their
helots the Mosquito Indians--Lewis Scott, an Englishman, the first
Corsair--John Davis takes St. Francis in Campeachy--Their
debauchery--Gambling--Religion--Classes from which they sprang--Equality
at sea--Mode of fighting--Food--Dress 111
CHAPTER IV.--PIERRE-LE-GRAND, THE FIRST BUCCANEER.
Plunder of Segovia--Pierre-le-Grand--Peter Francis--Captures of Spanish
vessels--Mode of capture--Barthelemy Portugese--His escapes and
victories--Roche the Brazilian--Fanatical hatred of the Spaniards--His
wrecks and adventures 152
CHAPTER V.--LOLONNOIS THE CRUEL.
Lolonnois' stratagems--His cruelty--His partner, Michael le
Basque--Takes Maracaibo--Tortures the citizens--Sacks the town--Takes
Gibraltar--Attempt on Merida--Famine and pestilence--Retreat--Division
of spoil--Ransom--Takes St. Pedro--Burns Veragua--Wrecked in the Gulf of
Honduras--Attacked by Indians--Killed and eaten by the savages 188
CHAPTER VI.--ALEXANDRE BRAS DE FER, AND MONTBARS THE EXTERMINATOR.
Bras de Fer compared by French writers to Alexander the Great--His
exploits and stratagems--Montbars--Anecdote of his childhood--Goes to
sea--His first naval engagement--Joins the Buccaneers--Defeats the
Spanish Fifties--His uncle killed--His revenge--Anecdote of the negro
vessel--Adam and Anne le Roux plunder Santiago 267
PREFACE.
I claim for this book, at least originality. But this originality,
unfortunately, if it attaches interest to an author's labours, adds also
to his responsibilities.
The history of the Buccaneers has hitherto remained unwritten. Three or
four forgotten volumes contain literally all that is recorded of the
wars and conquests of these extraordinary men. Of these volumes two are
French, one Dutch, and one in English. The majority of our readers,
therefore, it is probable, know nothing more of the freebooters but
their name, confound them with the mere pirates of two centuries later,
and derive their knowledge of their manners from those dozen lines of
the Abbe Reynal, that have been transferred from historian to
historian, and from writer to writer, for the last two centuries.
The chief records of Buccaneer adventurers are drawn literally from only
three books. The first of these is _Oexmelin's Histoire des Aventuriers_.
12mo. Paris, 1688. Oexmelin was a Frenchman, who went out to St. Domingo
as a planter's apprentice or _engage_, and eventually became surgeon in
the Buccaneer fleet--knew Lolonnois, and accompanied Sir Henry Morgan to
Panama.
The second is _Esquemeling's Zee Roovers_. Amsterdam. 4to. 1684.--A book
constantly mistaken by booksellers and in catalogues for Oexmelin.
Esquemeling was a Dutch _engage_ at St. Domingo, and his book is an
English translation from the Dutch. The writer appears of humbler birth
than Oexmelin, but served also at Panama.
The third is _Ringrose's History of the Cruises of Sharpe, &c._ This
man, who served with Dampier, seems to have been an ignorant sailor, and
a mere log-keeper.
The fourth is _Ravenau de Lussan's Narrative_. De Lussan was a young
French officer of fortune, who served in some of Ringrose's cruises.
This is a book written by a vivacious and keen observer, but is less
complete than Oexmelin's, but equally full of anecdote, and very amusing.
For secondary authorities we come to the French Jesuit historians of the
West Indian Islands, diffuse Rochefort, the gossiping _bon vivant_
Labat; Tertre, dry and prejudiced; Charlevoix, careful, condensed, and
entertaining; and Raynal, polished, classical, second-hand, and
declamatory.
The English secondaries are, Dampier, with his companions, Wafer and
Cowley. Several old pamphlets contain quaint versions of Morgan's
conquest of Panama; and in 1817, Burney, in his "History of Discoveries
in the South Sea," devotes many chapters to a dry but very imperfect
abridgment of Buccaneer adventure, omitting carefully everything that
gives either life or colour. Captain Southey, in his "History of the
West Indies," supplies many odd scraps of old voyages, and presents many
scattered figures, but attempts no picture.
Nor has modern fiction, however short of material, discovered these new
and virgin mines. Mrs. Hall has a novel, it is true, called _The
Buccaneer_, the scene of which is, however, laid in England; and Angus
B. Reach has skimmed the same subject, but has evidently not even read
half the three existing authorities. Dana, the American poet, has a poem
called the Buccaneer, but this is merely a collection of lines on the
sea. Sir Walter Scott's Bertram, although he had been a Buccaneer, is a
mere ruffian, who would do for any age, and Scott himself places
Morgan's conquest of Panama in the reign of Charles I., when it actually
took place in that of Charles II., fifty years later.
Defoe himself, little conscious of the rich region he was treading,
sketched a Buccaneer sailor when he re-christened Alexander Selkirk
Robinson Crusoe, and condensed all the spirit of Dampier into a book
still read as eagerly by the man as by the boy.
When I find a writer of Scott's profundity of reading and depth of
research placing the great event of Buccaneer history fifty years
before its time, booksellers mistaking a Dutch for a French writer, and
living historians confounding the Flibustiers of Tortuga, who attacked
only the Spaniards, with their degraded successors the pirates of New
Providence, who robbed all nations and even their own without mercy, I
think I have proved that my book is not a superfluity.
It is seldom that an author can invite the whole reading world to peruse
the self-rewarding labour of his student life. Mine is no book for a
sect, a clique, a profession, or a trade. It brings new scenes and new
creations to the novel reader, jaded with worn-out types of conventional
existence. It supplies the historian with a page of English, French, and
Spanish history that the capricious muse of history has hitherto kept in
MS. It traces the foundation of our colonial empire. To the psychologist
it furnishes deep matter for thought, while the philosopher may see in
these pages humanity in a new aspect, and man's soul exposed to new
temptations.
What Dampier has described and Defoe drawn materials from, no man can
dare to assert is wanting in interest. The readers to whom these books
are new will be astonished to find the adventures of Xenophon paralleled
in De Lussan's retreat over the Isthmus, and Swift forestalled in his
conception of some of the oddest customs of Lilliput. Oexmelin, I may
boldly assert, is a much more amusing writer than half our historians, a
keen and enlightened observer, who looked upon Buccaneering as a
chivalrous life, in which the sea knight got equally hard knocks as the
land hero, but more money.
If my characters are not so grand as those of history, I can present to
my reader men as greedy of gold, ambitious and sagacious as Pizarro or
Cortes, and as reckless as Alexander, and as cruel as Caesar. If the
Buccaneers were but insects, bred from the putrefactions of a decaying
empire, their plans were at least gigantic, and their courage
unprecedented.
Anomalous beings, hunters by land and sea, scaring whole fleets with a
few canoes, sacking cities with a few grenadiers, devastating every
coast from California to Cape Horn, they only needed a common principle
of union to have founded an aggressive republic, as wealthy as Venice
and as warlike as Carthage. One great mind and the New World had been
their own.
But from the first Providence sowed amongst them the seeds of
discord--difference of religion and difference of race. Never settling,
their race had its ranks renewed, not by descendants, but by fresh
recruits, men with new interests and lower aims. In less than a century
the Brotherhood had passed away, their virtues were forgotten and their
vices alone remembered.
The Buccaneers were robbers, yet they sought something beyond gold.
Mansvelt took the island of St. Catherine, and planned a republic, and
Morgan contemplated the destruction of the Bravo Indians. They were
outlaws, and yet religious robbers, yet generous and regardful of the
minutest delicacies of honour; lovers of freedom, yet obeying the
sternest discipline; cruel, yet tender to their friends.
All the light and shade of the darkest fiction look poor beside the
adventures of these men. Catholics, Protestants, Puritans, gallants,
officers, common seamen, farmers' sons, men of rank, hunters, sailors,
planters, murderers, fanatics, Creoles, Spaniards, negroes, astrologers,
monks, pilots, guides, merchants--all pass before us in a motley and
ever-changing masquerade. The backgrounds to these scenes are the wooded
shores of the West Indian Islands, woods sparkling at night with
fire-flies, broad savannahs dark with wild cattle, the volcanic islands
peopled by marooned sailors, stormy promontories, the lonely sand "keys"
of Jamaica, and the rocky fastnesses of Tortuga.
MONARCHS OF THE MAIN.
CHAPTER I.
HISTORY OF TORTUGA.
The precursors of the Buccaneers--Description of Tortuga--Origin of
the Buccaneers--Conquest of Tortuga by the French--The hunters,
planters, and corsairs--Le Basque takes Maracaibo--War in
Hispaniola--French West Indian Company buy Tortuga--The Governor, M.
D'Ogeron.
Drake, Cavendish, and Oxenham, indeed all the naval heroes of
Elizabeth's reign, were the precursors of the Buccaneers. The captains
of those "tall ships" that sailed from Plymouth Sound, and the green
nooks of the sunny coast of Devon, to capture stately carracks laden
deep with silks, spices, pearls, and precious stones, the treasure of
Potosi and Peru, were but Buccaneers under another name, agreeing with
them in the great principle of making war on none but Spaniards, but on
Spaniards unceasingly. "No peace beyond the line" was the motto on the
flag of both Drake and Morgan.
Sir John Hawkins, who began the slave trade, and who was Drake's
earliest patron, took the town of Rio de la Hacha, and struggled
desperately with the galleons in the port of St. Juan d'Ulloa. Drake
sacked Nombre de Dios, and, passing across the isthmus, stormed Vera
Cruz. He destroyed St. Domingo and Carthagena, burnt La Rancheria, and
attacked Porto Rico. But still more truly a Buccaneer was John Oxenham,
one of Drake's followers, who, cruising about Panama, captured several
bullion vessels; but was at last slain, with all his men, having fallen
in love with a Spanish captive, and liberated her son, who surprised him
with reinforcements from Nombre de Dios. Then came Raleigh, more
chivalrous than them all--looser in principle, but wiser in head. He
planned an attack on Panama, and ravaged St. Thomas's.
The first Buccaneers were poor French hunters, who, driven by the
Spaniards out of Hispaniola, fled to the neighbouring island of Tortuga,
and there settled as planters.
This Buccaneer colony of Tortuga arose rather by accident than by the
design of any one ambitious mind. The French had established a colony in
the almost deserted island of St. Christopher's, which had begun to
flourish when the Spaniards, alarmed at a hostile power's vicinity to
their mines, to which their thoughts then alone tended, put a stop to
the prosperity of the French settlements by frequent attacks made by
their fleets on their way to New Spain. From the just hatred excited by
these unprovoked forays sprang the first impulse of retaliation. These
injuries provoked the French, as they had done the Dutch, to fit out
privateers. But a still more powerful motive soon became paramount. A
spirit of cupidity arose, which was stimulated by the heated
imaginations of men poor and angry. Before them lay regions of gold,
timidly guarded by a vindictive but feeble enemy; and Spain became to
these pioneer settlers what a bedridden miser is to the dreams of a
needy bravo.
The report of the Dutch successes spread through all the ports of
France. Sailors were the ready bearers of wild tales they had themselves
half invented. Some hardy adventurers of Dieppe fitted out vessels to
carry on a warfare that retaliation had now rendered just, war made
legal, and chance rendered profitable. The sailor who was to-day
munching his onion on the quays of Marseilles might, a few weeks hence,
be lord of Carthagena, or rolling in the treasures of a Manilla galleon,
clothed in Eastern silks, and delighted with the perfumes of India.
Finding their enterprise successful, but St. Kitt's too distant to form
a convenient depot for their booty, they began to look about for some
nearer locality. At first they found their return voyages to the West
Indian islands frequently occupying three months, which seemed years to
men hurrying to store up old plunder, and to sally forth for new. In
search of an asylum, these privateersmen touched at Hispaniola, hoping
to find some lonely island near its shores; but as soon as they had
landed, and saw the great forests full of game, and broad savannahs
alive with wild cattle, and finding it abandoned by the Spaniards, and
the Indians nearly all dead or emigrated, they determined to settle at a
place so full of advantages, where they could revictual their ships, and
remain secure and unobserved. The sight of Tortuga, a small neighbouring
island, rocky, and yet not without a harbour, convinced them that nature
had constructed for their growing empire at once a magazine, a citadel,
and a fortress. They had now a sanctuary and a haven, shelter for their
booty, and food for their men.
The Spaniards, although not occupying the island, were anxious that it
should not be occupied by others. They had long had a foreboding that
this island would become a resort for pirates, and had just garrisoned
it with an alfarez and twenty-five men. The French had, however, little
difficulty in getting rid of this small force, the soldiers being
enraged at finding themselves left by their countrymen, without
provisions or reinforcements, upon a barren rock.
Once masters of the heap of stones, the French began to deliberate by
what means they could retain it. The sight of buildings already begun,
and the prospect of more food than they could get at St. Christopher's,
determined these restless men to settle on the spot they had won. Part
of them returned to Hispaniola to kill oxen and boars, and to salt the
flesh for those who would remain to plant; and those men who determined
to build assured the sailors that stores of dry meat should always be
ready to revictual their ships.
The adventurers, having a nucleus for their operations, began to widen
their operations. They became now divided into three distinct classes,
always intermingling, and never very definitely divided, but still for
the main part separate: the _sea rovers_, or flibustiers; the
_planters_, or habitans; and the _hunters_, or buccaneers. For the first
class, there were many names: the English, following an Indian word,
called them Buccaneers, from the Indian term _boucan_ (dried meat); the
Dutch denominated them Zee Roovers, and the French Flibustiers, or
Aventuriers. A fourth class, growing by degrees either into the
Buccaneers or the planters, were the apprentices, or _engages_.
A few French planters could not have retained the island had not their
numbers been swelled by the addition of many English. In a short time,
French vessels touched at the island, to trade for the booty that now
arrived more frequently, unintermittingly, and in greater quantities.
The trade grew less speculative and uncertain. French captains found it
profitable to barter not only for hides and meat with the Buccaneers,
but with the Flibustiers for silver-plate and pieces of eight. The high
prices paid for wine and brandy soon rendered the commerce with Bordeaux
a matter worthy the attention of the French Government. In a few days of
Buccaneer excess more was spent in barter than could have been realised
in months of average traffic with the more cautious.
The Spaniards, fully alive to the danger of this planter settlement,
determined to destroy it at a single blow. The design was easy of
accomplishment, for the Buccaneers had grown careless from long
impunity, and had long since crowned themselves undisputed kings of
Hispaniola and its dependencies. Taking advantage of a time when the
English corsairs were at sea and the French Buccaneers hunting on the
mainland, the Spanish General of the Indian Fleet landed with a handful
of soldiers and retook the island in an hour. The few planters were
overpowered before they could run together, the hunters before they
could seize their arms. Some were at once put to the sword, and others
hung on the nearest trees. The larger portion, however, taking advantage
of well-known lurking places, waited for the night, and then escaped to
the mainland in their canoes. The Spaniards, satisfied with the terror
they had struck, left the island un-garrisoned, and returned exultingly
to St. Domingo. Hearing, however, that there were a great many
Buccaneers still settled as hunters in Hispaniola, and that the wild
cattle were diminishing by their ravages, the general levied some troops
to put them down. To these men, who were known as the Spanish _Fifties_,
we shall hereafter advert.
The Spanish fleet was scarcely well out of sight before the Buccaneers,
angry but unintimidated, flocked back to their now desolated island,
full of rage at the sight of the bodies of their companions and the
ashes of their ruined houses. The English returned headed by a Buccaneer
named Willis, who gave an English character to the new colony. The
French adventurers, jealous of English interference, and fearful that
the island would fall into the possession of England, left Tortuga, and,
going to St. Christopher's, informed the Governor, the Chevalier de
Poncy, of the ease with which it could be conquered. De Poncy, alive to
the scheme and jealous for French honour, fitted out an expedition, and
intrusted the command to M. Le Vasseur, a brave soldier and good
engineer, just arrived from France, who levied a force of forty French
Protestants, and agreed to conquer the island for De Poncy and to govern
in his name, as well as to pay half the expenses of the conquest. In a
few days he dropped anchor in Port Margot, on the north side of
Hispaniola, about seven leagues from Tortuga. He instantly collected a
force of forty French Buccaneers from the woods and the savannahs, and,
having arranged his plans, made a descent upon the island in the month
of April, 1640. As soon as he had landed, he sent a message to the
English Governor to say that he had come to avenge the insults received
by the French flag, and to warn him that if he did not leave the island
with all those of his nation in twenty-four hours, he should lay waste
every plantation with fire and sword. The English, feeling their
position untenable, instantly embarked in a vessel lying in the road,
without (as Oexmelin, a French writer, says) striking a blow in
self-defence. The French population of the island then, rising in arms,
welcomed the invaders as friends.
Le Vasseur, the bloodless conqueror of this new Barataria, was received
with shouts and acclamations. He at once visited every nook of the
island that needed defence, and prepared to insure it against reconquest
either by the Spaniards or the English. He found it inaccessible on
three sides; and on the unprotected quarter built a fort, on a peak of
impregnable rock, rising 600 feet above the narrow path which it
commanded. The summit of this rock was about thirty feet square, and
could only be ascended by steps cut in the stone or by a moveable iron
ladder. The fort held four guns. A spring of water completed the
advantages of the spot, which was surrounded with walls and fenced in
with hedges, woods, precipices, and every aid that art or nature could
furnish. The only approach to this steep was a narrow avenue in which no
more than three men could march abreast.
The Buccaneers now flocked to Tortuga in greater numbers than before,
some to congratulate the new governor on his victory, and others to
enrol themselves as his subjects: all who came he received with
promises of support and protection. The Spaniards, in the meanwhile,
determined to crush this wasp's nest, fitted out at St. Domingo a new
armament of six vessels, having on board 500 or 600 men. They at first
anchored before the fort, but, receiving a volley, moored two leagues
lower down, and landed their troops. In attempting to storm the fort by
a _coup de main_, they were beaten off with the loss of 200 men, the
garrison sallying out and driving them back to their ships.
The now doubly victorious governor was hailed as the defender and
saviour of Tortuga. The news of victory soon reached the ears of M. de
Poncy, at St. Christopher's, who, at first rejoiced at the success,
became soon afraid of the ambition of his new ally. Fearing that he
would repudiate the contract, and declare himself an independent
sovereign, he took the precaution of testing his sincerity. He sent two
of his relations to Tortuga to request land as settlers, but really to
act as spies. Le Vasseur, subtle and penetrating, at once detected their
object. He received the young men with great civility, but took care to
secure their speedy return to St. Christopher's. Having now attained the
summit of his wishes, he became, as many greater men have been,
intoxicated with power. His temper changed, and he grew severe,
suspicious, intolerant, and despotic. He not only bound his subjects in
chains, but delighted to clank the fetters, and remind them of their
slavery. He ill-used the planters, loaded the merchants with taxes,
punished the most venial faults, and grew as much hated as he had been
once beloved. He went so far in his tyranny as to forbid the exercise of
the Catholic religion, to burn the churches and expel the priests. The
murder of such a persecutor has always been held a sin easily forgiven
by the confessor, and lust and superstition soon gave birth to murder.
Charlevoix relates an amusing instance of the governor's contumacy. De
Poncy, informed that his vessels had taken a silver idol (a Virgin Mary)
from some Spanish cathedral, wrote to demand its surrender. Le Vasseur
returned a wooden image by the messenger, desiring him to say, that for
religious purposes, wood or silver was equally good. One of his most
cruel inventions Le Vasseur called his "hell." It seems to have
resembled the portable iron cages in which Louis XI. used to confine his
state prisoners.
M. de Poncy, informed of the extraordinary change in the character of Le
Vasseur, endeavoured to beguile him by promises, threats, and
entreaties. Justice gave him now a pretext of enforcing what
self-interest had long meditated. The toils were growing closer round
the doomed man, but Heaven sent a speedier punishment. Le Vasseur, still
waiving all openings for formal complaint, was exulting in all the glory
of a small satrapy, when two nephews conspired against his life.
Cupidity inspired the crime, and they easily persuaded themselves that
God and man alike demanded the expiation. One writer calls them simply
captains, "companions of fortune," and another, the nephews of Le
Vasseur.
These ungrateful men had already been declared his heirs, but they had
quarrelled with him about a mistress he had taken from them, and one
fault in a friend obliterates the remembrance of many virtues. They
believed that the inhabitants, rejoiced at deliverance from such
tyranny, would appoint them joint governors in the first outburst of
their gratitude. They shot him from an ambush as he was descending from
the rock fort to the shore, but, only wounding him slightly, were
obliged to complete the murder with a poignard. The wounded man called
for a priest, and declared himself, with his last breath, a steadfast
Catholic. He seems to have been a dark, wily man, of strong passions,
tenacious ambition, and ungovernable will.
While this crime was perpetrating, De Poncy, determined to recover
possession of at least his share of Tortuga, and weary and angry at the
subterfuges of Le Vasseur, had resolved upon a new expedition. The
leader was a Chevalier de Fontenoy, a soldier of fortune, who, attracted
by the sparkle of Spanish gold, had just arrived at St. Kitt's in a
French frigate. Full of chivalry, he at once proposed to sail, although
informed that the place was impregnable, and could only be taken by
stratagem. While the armament was fitting up, he made a cruise round
Carthagena, on the look out for Spanish prizes, and joined M. Feral, a
nephew of the general, at Port de Paix, a rendezvous twelve leagues from
Tortuga. Informed there of the murder of Le Vasseur, they at once sailed
for the harbour, and landed 500 men at the spot where the Spaniards had
formerly been repulsed. The two murderers immediately capitulated, on
condition of being allowed to depart with all their uncle's treasure.
The Chevalier was proclaimed governor, and received with as many
acclamations as Le Vasseur had been before him. The old religion was
restored, and commerce patronized and protected, by royal edict. Two
bastions were added to the fort, and more guns mounted. The Buccaneers
crowded back in greater numbers than even on Le Vasseur's arrival.
Before they had only imagined the advantages of this conquest, but now
they had tasted them. The Chevalier hailed all Buccaneers as friends
and brothers, and even himself fitted out privateers. The Spanish ships
could scarcely venture out of port, and one merchant alone is known to
have lost 300,000 crowns' worth of merchandise in a single year.
It is easier to conquer than to retain a conquest, and vigilance grows
blunted by success. The Chevalier, too confident in his strength,
allowed half his population to embark in cruisers. The sick, the aged,
the maimed, laboured in the plantations with the slaves. The Spaniards,
informed of this, landed in force, without resistance. The few
Buccaneers crowded into the fort, which the enemy dared not approach.
Discovering, however, a mountain that commanded the rock, precipitous,
but still accessible, they determined to plant a battery upon it, and
drive the Buccaneers from their last foothold. With infinite vigour and
determination they hewed a road to the mountain between two rocks.
Making frames of wood, they lashed on their cannons, and forced the
slaves and prisoners to drag them to the summit, and, with a battery of
four guns, suddenly opened a fire upon the unguarded fort. The
Chevalier, not expecting this enterprise, had just deprived himself of
his last defence, by cutting down the large trees that grew round the
walls. In spite of all the threats and expostulations of the governor,
the garrison, galled by this plunging fire, at once capitulated. They
left the island in twenty-four hours, with arms and baggage, drums
beating, colours flying, and match burning, and set sail in two
half-scuttled vessels lying in the road, having first given hostages not
to serve against Spain for a given time. In another vessel, but alone,
set sail the two murderers, who, being short of food, consummated their
crimes by leaving the women and children of their company on a desert
island.
The Spanish general, repairing the fort, garrisoned it with sixty men,
whom he supplied with provisions. Fontenoy, repulsed in an attempt to
recover the island, soon afterwards returned to France.
In 1655, when Admiral Penn appeared off St. Domingo with Cromwell's
fleet, the Spaniards, to increase their forces in Hispaniola, recalled
the troop which had held Tortuga eighteen months--the commander first
blowing up the fort, burning the church, the houses, and the magazines,
and devastating the plantations. Not long afterwards, an English refugee
of wealth, Elias Ward (or, as the French call him, _Elyazouaerd_), came
from Jamaica, with his family and a dozen soldiers, and with an English
commission from the general, and was soon joined by about 120 French and
English adventurers.
The treaty of the Pyrenees, in 1659, brought no repose to the hunters of
Hispaniola from Spanish inroads. The planters were compelled to work
armed, and to keep watch at night for fear of being murdered in their
beds. In 1667 the war recommencing, let the bloodhounds, who had long
been straining in the leash, free to raven and devour. De Lisle again
plundered St. Jago, and obtained 2,500 piastres ransom, each of his
adventurers secured 300 crowns, the Spaniards abandoning the defiles
and carrying off their treasure to Conception.
This was the golden age of Buccaneering. Vauclin, Ovinet, and Tributor,
plundered the towns of Cumana, Coro, St. Martha, and Nicaragua. Le
Basque, with only forty men, surprised Maracaibo by night. He seized the
principal inhabitants and shut them in the cathedral, and threatened to
instantly cut off their heads if the citizens ventured to rise in arms.
Daylight discovering his feeble force, he could obtain no ransom. The
Flibustiers then retreated, each man driving a prisoner before him, a
pistol slung in one hand and a naked sabre raised over the Spaniard's
head in the other. These hostages were detained twenty-four hours, and
released at the moment the French departed. This is the same Le Basque
whom Charlevoix describes as cutting out the Margaret from under the
cannon of Portobello, and winning a million piastres. At another time,
they retreated laden with booty and carrying with them the Governor and
the principal citizens of St. Jago; but the Spaniards, rallying, placed
themselves, 1,000 in number, in an ambuscade by the way, trusting to
their numbers and expecting an easy victory. The French, turning well,
scarcely missed a shot, and in a short time killed 100 of the enemy's
men, and, wounding a great many more, drove them off after two hours'
fighting. They rallied and returned in a short time, determined to
conquer or die; but the French, showing the prisoners, declared that if
a shot was fired by the enemy they would kill them before their eyes,
and would then sell their own lives dearly. This menace frightened the
Spaniards, and the Flibustiers continued their retreat unmolested.
Having waited some time in vain on the coast for the ransom, they left
the prisoners unhurt, and returned gaily to Tortuga.
In 1663, Spain, finding that France in secret encouraged the Buccaneers
of Hispaniola, gave orders to exterminate every Frenchman in the island,
promising recompence to those who distinguished themselves in the war.
An old Flemish officer, named Vandelinof, who had served with
distinction in the Low Country wars, took the command. His first
stratagem was to attempt to surprise the chief French boucan, at
Gonaive, on the Brule Savannah, with 800 men. The hunters, observing
them, gave the alarm, and, collecting 100 "brothers," advanced to meet
them in a defile where the Spanish numbers were of no avail. The Fleming
was killed at the first volley, and after an obstinate struggle the
Spaniards fled to the mountains.
The enemy, after this defeat, returned to their old and safer plan of
night surprises--which frequently succeeded, owing to the negligent
watch kept by the Buccaneers. The hunters, much harassed by the constant
sense of insecurity, began to retire every night to the small islands
round St. Domingo, and seldom went alone to the chase. Some boucans,
such as those at the port of Samana, grew rapidly into towns. Near this
excellent harbour the cattle were unusually abundant, and in a few hours
the Flibustier could carry his hides to his market at Tortuga. Gradually
French and Dutch vessels began to visit the port to buy hides and to
trade.
Every morning before starting to the savannah, the hunters climbed the
highest hill to see if any Spaniards were visible. They then agreed on a
rendezvous for the evening, arriving there to the moment. If any one was
missing he was at once known to be taken or killed, and no one was
permitted to return home till their comerade's death had been avenged.
One evening the hunters of Samana, missing four of the band, marched
towards St. Jago, and, discovering from some prisoners that their
companions had been massacred, entered a Spanish village and slew every
one they met.
The Spaniards too had sometimes their revenge. "The river of massacre"
near Samana was so called from thirty Buccaneers who were slain there
while fording the river laden with hides. Another band of hunters, led
by Charles Tore, had been hunting at a place called the Bois-Brule
Savannah, and having completed the number of skins the merchants had
contracted for, returned to Samana. Crossing a savannah they were
surprised by an overwhelming force of Spaniards, and, in spite of a
desperate resistance, slain to a man. The Buccaneers, irritated by these
losses, began to think of revenge. When the Spaniards destroyed the wild
cattle, some turned planters about Port de Paix, others became
Flibustiers.
The death of De Poncy threw the French colonies into some disorder, and
Tortuga was for awhile forgotten both by the home and colonial
government. During this interval a gentleman of Perigord, named Rossy, a
retired Buccaneer, resolved to resume his old profession. Returning to
St. Domingo, he was hailed as a father by the hunters, who proposed to
him to recover Tortuga. Rossy, knowing that fidelity is the last virtue
that forsakes the heart, accepted their proposal with the enthusiasm of
a gambler accustomed to such desperate casts. He was soon joined by five
hundred refugees, burning for conquest and revenge. They assembled in
canoes at a rendezvous in Hispaniola, and agreed to land one hundred men
on the north side of the island and surprise the mountain fort. The
Spaniards in the town, not even entrenched, were soon beaten into the
fort. The garrison of the rock were rather astonished to be awoke at
break of day by a salute from the neighbouring mountain, when they could
see the enemy still quietly encamped below. Sallying out, they could
discern no opponents, but before they could regain the fort were all cut
to pieces or made prisoners. The survivors were at once thrust into a
boat and sent to Cuba, and Rossy declared governor. He soon after
received a commission from the French king, together with a permission
to levy a tax, for the support of his dignity, of a tenth of all prizes
brought into Tortuga. Rossy governed quietly for some years, and
eventually retired to his native country to die, and La Place, his
nephew, reigned in his stead.
In 1664, the French West India Company became masters of Tortuga and the
Antilles, and appointed M. D'Ogeron, a gentleman of Anjou who had failed
in commerce, as their governor. He proved a good administrator, and
built magazines and storehouses for his grateful and attached people.
D'Ogeron soon established order and prosperity in the island, which
became a refuge for the red flag and the terror of the Spaniards. He
colonised all the north side of Hispaniola, from Port Margot, where he
had a house, to the three rivers opposite Tortuga. He attracted
colonists from the Antilles, and brought over women from France, in
order to settle his nomadic and mutinous population. In 1661, the West
India Company, dissatisfied with the profits of their merchandize,
resolved to relinquish the colony and call in their debts; and it was in
the St. John, sent out for this purpose, that the Buccaneer historian
Oexmelin, whom we shall have frequently to quote, first visited Tortuga.
D'Ogeron, determined not to relinquish a settlement already beginning to
flourish, hastened to France, and persuaded some private merchants to
continue the trade. They promised to fit out twelve vessels annually, if
he would supply them with back freight. He on his part agreed to provide
the colonists with slaves and to destroy the wild dogs, which were
committing great ravages among the herds of Hispaniola. This new
company did not answer. The inhabitants suffered by the monopoly, and
grew discontented at only being allowed to trade with certain vessels,
and being obliged to turn their backs on better bargains or cheaper
merchandize. An accident lit the train. M. D'Ogeron attempted to prevent
their trading with some Dutch merchants, and they rose in arms. Shots
were fired at the governor, and the revolters threatened to burn out the
planters who would not join their flag. But succours from the Antilles
soon brought them to their senses, and, one of their ringleaders being
hung, they surrendered at discretion. The governor, alarmed even at an
outbreak that he had checked, made in his turn concessions. He permitted
all French merchants to trade upon paying a heavy harbour due, and the
number of ships soon became too numerous for the limited commerce of the
place. M. D'Ogeron next procured colonists from Brittany and Anjou, and
eventually, after some further exploits, very daring but always
unfortunate, he was succeeded in command by his nephew M. De Poncy.
There are several Tortugas. There is one in the Caribbean sea, another
near the coast of Honduras, a third not far from Carthagena, and a
fourth in the gulf of California; they all derived their names from
their shape, resembling the turtle which throng in these seas.
The Buccaneer fastness with which we have to do is the Tortuga of the
North Atlantic Ocean, a small rocky island about 60 leagues only in
circumference, and distant barely six miles from the north coast of
Hispaniola. This Tortuga was to the refugee hunters of the savannahs
what New Providence became to the pirates, and the Galapagos islands to
the South Sea adventurers of half a century later. It had only one port,
the entrance to which formed two channels: on two sides it was
iron-bound, and on the other defended by reefs and shoals, less
threatening than the cliffs, but not less dangerous. Though scantily
supplied with spring water--a defect which the natives balanced by a
free use of "the water of life"--the interior was very fertile and well
wooded. Palm and sandal wood trees grew in profusion; sugar, tobacco,
aloes, resin, China-root, indigo, cotton, and all sorts of tropical
plants were the riches of the planters. The cultivators were already
receiving gifts from the earth, which--liberal benefactor--she gave
without expecting a return, for the virgin soil needed little seed,
care, or nourishment. The island was too small for savannahs, but the
tangled brushwood abounded in wild boars.
The harbour had a fine sand bottom, was well sheltered from the winds,
and was walled in by the Coste de Fer rocks. Round the habitable part of
the shore stretched sands, so that it could not be approached but by
boats. The town consisted of only a few store-houses and wine shops, and
was called the _Basse Terre_. The other five habitable parts of the
island were Cayona, the Mountain, the Middle Plantation, the Ringot, and
Mason's Point. A seventh, the Capsterre, required only water to make it
habitable, the land being very fertile. To supply the want of springs,
the planters collected the rain water in tanks. The soil of the island
was alternately sand and clay, and from the latter they made excellent
pottery. The mountains, though rocky, and scarcely covered with soil,
were shaded with trees of great size and beauty, the roots of which
clung like air plants to the bare rock, and, netting them round, struck
here and there deeper anchors into the wider crevices. This timber was
so dry and tough that, if it was cut and exposed to the heat of the sun,
it would split with a loud noise, and could therefore only be used as
fuel.
This favoured island boasted all the fruits of the Antilles: its tobacco
was better than that of any other island; its sugar canes attained an
enormous size, and their juice was sweeter than elsewhere; its numerous
medicinal plants were exported to heal the diseases of the Old World.
The only four-footed animal was the wild boar, originally transplanted
from Hispaniola. As it soon grew scarce, the French governor made it
illegal to hunt with dogs, and required the hunter to follow his prey
single-handed and on foot. The wood-pigeons were almost the only birds
in the island. They came in large flocks at certain periods of the year;
Oexmelin says that, in two or three hours, without going eighty steps
from the road, he killed ninety-five with his own hand. As soon as they
eat a certain berry their flesh became bitter as our larks do when they
move from the stubbles into the turnips. A Gascon visitor, once
complaining of their sudden bitterness, was told by a Buccaneer as a
joke that his servant had forgot to remove the gall. Fish abounded round
the island, and crabs without nippers; the night fishermen carrying
torches of the candle-wood tree. The shell fish was the food of servants
and slaves, and was said to be so indigestible as to frequently produce
giddiness and temporary blindness; the turtle and manitee, too, formed
part of their daily diet. The planters were much tormented by the white
and red land-crabs, or tourtourons, which lived in the earth, visited
the sea to spawn, and at night gnawed the sugar-canes and the roots of
plants. Their only venomous reptile was the viper, which they tamed to
kill mice; in a wild state, it fed on poultry or pigeons. From the
stomach of one Oexmelin drew seven pigeons and a large fowl, which had
been swallowed about three hours before, and cooked them for his own
dinner, verifying the old proverb of "robbing Peter to pay Paul." In
times of scarcity these snakes were eaten for food. Besides chameleons
and lizards, there were small insects with shells like a snail. These
were considered good to eat and very nourishing. When held near the
fire, they distilled a red oily liquid useful as a rheumatic liniment.
Though the scorpions and scolopendrias were not venomous, nature, always
just in her compensations, covered the island with poisonous shrubs. The
most fatal of these was the noxious mancanilla. It grew as high as a
pear tree, had leaves like a wild laurel, and bore fruit like an apple;
this fruit was so deadly, that even fish that ate of it, if they did not
die, became themselves poisonous, and were known by the blackness of
their teeth. The only antidote was olive oil. The Indian fishermen
used, as a test, to taste the heart of the fish they caught, and if it
proved bitter they knew at once that it had been poisoned, and threw it
away. The very rain-drops that fell from the leaves were deadly to man
and beast, and it was as dangerous to sleep under its shadow as under
the upas. The friendly boughs invited the traveller (as vice does man)
to rest under their shade; but when he awoke he found himself sick and
faint, and covered with feverish sores. New-comers were too frequently
tempted by the sight and odour of the fruit, and the only remedy for the
rash son of Adam was to bind him down, and, in spite of heat and pain,
to prevent him drinking for two or three days. The body of the sufferer
became at first "red as fire, and his tongue black as ink," then a great
torment of thirst and fever came upon him, but slowly passed away.
Another poisonous shrub resembled the pimento; its berries were used by
the Indians to rub their eyes, giving them, as they believed, a keener
sight, and enabling them to see the fish deeper in the water and to
strike them at a greater distance with the harpoon. The root of this
bush was a poison, so deadly that the only known antidote for it was its
own berries, bruised and drunk in wine. Of another plant, Oexmelin
relates an instance of a negro girl being poisoned by a rejected lover,
by merely putting some of its leaves between her toes when asleep.