THE FLIBUSTIERS, OR SEA ROVERS.
Originated in the Spanish persecution of French
Hunters--Customs--Pay and Pensions--The Mosquito Indians, their
Habits--Food--Lewis Scott, an Englishman, first Corsair--John Davis:
takes St. Francisco, in Campeachy--Debauchery--Love of
Gaming--Religion--Class from which they sprang--Equality at
Sea--Mode of Fighting--Dress.
The Flibustiers first began by associating together in bands of from
fifteen to twenty men. Each of them carried the Buccaneer musket,
holding a ball of sixteen to the pound, and had generally pistols at his
belt, holding bullets of twenty or twenty-four to the pound, and besides
this they wore a good sabre or cutlass. When collected at some
preconcerted rendezvous, generally a key or small island off Cuba, they
elected a captain, and embarked in a canoe, hollowed out of the trunk of
a single tree in the Indian manner. This canoe was either bought by the
association or the captain. If the latter, they agreed to give him the
first ship they should take. As soon as they had all signed the
charter-party, or mutual agreement, they started for the destined port
off which they were to cruise. The first Spanish vessel they took served
to repay the captain and recompense themselves. They dressed themselves
in the rich robes of Castilian grandees over their own blooded shirts,
and sat down to revel in the gilded saloon of the galleon. If they found
their prize not seaworthy, they would take her to some small sand island
and careen, while the crew helped the Indians to turn turtle, and to
procure bull's flesh. The Spanish crew they kept to assist in careening,
for they never worked themselves, but fought and hunted while the
unfortunate prisoners were toiling round the fire where the pitch
boiled, or the turtle was stewing. The Flibustiers divided the spoil as
soon as each one had taken an oath that nothing had been secreted. When
the ship was ready for sea, they let the Spaniards go, and kept only the
slaves. If there were no negroes or Indians, they retained a few
Spaniards to wait upon them. If the prisoners were men of consequence,
they detained them till they could obtain a ransom. Every Flibustier
brought a certain supply of powder and ball for the common stock. Before
starting on an expedition it was a common thing to plunder a Spanish
hog-yard, where a thousand swine were often collected, surrounding the
keeper's lodge at night, and shooting him if he made any resistance. The
tortoise fishermen were often forced to fish for them gratuitously,
although nearly every ship had its Mosquito Indian to strike turtle and
sea-cow, and to fish for the whole boat's crew. "No prey, no pay," was
the Buccaneers' motto. The charter-party specified the salary of the
captain, surgeon, and carpenter, and allowed 200 pieces of eight for
victualling. The boys had but half a share, although it was either
their duty or the surgeon's, when the rest had boarded, to remain behind
to fire the former vessel, and then retire to the prize.
The Buccaneer code, worthy of Napoleon or Justinian, was equal to the
statutes of any land, insomuch as it answered the want of those for whom
it was compiled, and seldom required either revision or enlargement. It
was never appealed from, and was seldom found to be unjust or severe.
The captain was allowed five or six shares, the master's mate only two,
and the other officers in proportion, down to the lowest mariner. All
acts of special bravery or merit were rewarded by special grants. The
man who first caught sight of a prize received a hundred crowns. The
sailor who struck down the enemy's captain, and the first boarder who
reached the enemy's deck, were also distinguished by honours. The
surgeon, always a great man among a crew whose lives so often depended
on his skill, received 200 crowns to supply his medicine chest. If they
took a prize, he had a share like the rest. If they had no money to
give him, he was rewarded with two slaves.
The loss of an eye was recompensed at 100 crowns, or one slave.
The loss of both eyes with 600 crowns, or six slaves.
The loss of a right hand or right leg at 200 crowns, or two slaves.
The loss of both hands or legs at 600 crowns, or six slaves.
The loss of a finger or toe at 100 crowns, or one slave.
The loss of a foot or leg at 200 crowns, or two slaves.
The loss of both legs at 600 crowns, or six slaves.
Nothing but death seems to have been considered as worth recompensing
with more than 600 crowns. For any wound, which compelled a sailor to
carry a _canulus_, 200 crowns were given, or two slaves. If a man had
not even lost a member, but was for the present deprived of the use of
it, he was still entitled to his compensation as much as if he had lost
it altogether. The maimed were allowed to take either money or slaves.
The charter-party drawn up by Sir Henry Morgan before his famous
expedition, which ended in the plunder and destruction of Panama, shows
several modifications of the earlier contract.
To him who struck the enemy's flag, and planted the Buccaneers', fifty
piastres, besides his share.
To him who took a prisoner who brought tidings, 100 piastres, besides
his share.
For every grenade thrown into an enemy's port-hole, five piastres.
To him who took an officer of rank at the risk of his life,
proportionate reward.
To him who lost two legs, 500 crowns, or fifteen slaves.
To him who lost two arms, 800 piastres, or eighteen slaves.
To him who lost one leg or one arm, 500 piastres, or six slaves.
To him who lost an eye, 100 piastres, or one slave.
For both eyes, 200 piastres, or two slaves.
For the loss of a finger, 100 piastres, or one slave. A Flibustier who
had a limb crippled, received the same pay as if it was lost. A wound
requiring an issue, was recompensed with 500 piastres, or five slaves.
These shares were all allotted before the general division. If a vessel
was taken at sea, its cargo was divided among the whole fleet, but the
crew first boarding it received 100 crowns, if its value exceeded 10,000
crowns, and for every 10,000 crowns' worth of cargo, 100 went to the men
that boarded. The surgeon received 200 piastres, besides his share.
The Mosquito Indians were the helots of the Buccaneers; they employed
them to catch fish, and their vessels had generally a small canoe, kept
for their use, in which they might strike tortoise or manitee. These
Indians used no oars, but a pair of broad-bladed paddles, which they
held perpendicularly, grasping the staff with both hands and putting
back the water by sheer strength, and with very quick, short strokes.
Two men generally went in the same boat, the one sitting in the stern,
the other kneeling down in the head. They both paddled softly till they
approached the spot where their prey lay; they then remained still,
looking very warily about them, and the one at the head then rose up,
with his striking-staff in his hand. This weapon was about eight feet
long, almost as thick as a man's arm at the larger end, at which there
was a hole into which the harpoon was put; at the other extremity was
placed a piece of light (bob) wood, with a hole in it, through which the
small end of the staff came. On this bob wood a line of ten or twelve
fathoms was neatly wound--the end of the one line being fastened to the
wood, and the other to the harpoon, the man keeping about a fathom of it
loose in his hand. When he struck, the harpoon came off the shaft, and,
as the wounded fish swam away, the line ran off from the reel. Although
the bob and line were frequently dragged deep under water, and often
caught round coral branches or sunk wreck, it generally rose to the
surface of the water. The Indians struggled to recover the bob, which
they were accustomed to do in about a quarter of an hour.
When the sea-cow grew tired and began to lie still, they drew in the
line, and the monster, feeling the harpoon a second time, would often
make a maddened rush at the canoe. It then became necessary that the
steersman should be nimble in turning the head of the canoe the way his
companion pointed, as he alone was able to see and feel the way the
manitee was swimming. Directly the fish grew tired, they hauled in the
line, which the vexed creature drew out again a dozen times with
ferocious but impotent speed. When its strength grew quite exhausted,
they would drag it up the side of their boat and knock it on the head,
or, pulling it to the shore, made it fast while they went out to strike
another. From the great size of a sea-cow it was always necessary to go
to shore in order to get it safely into their boats; hauling it up in
shoal water, they upset their canoes, and then rolling the fish in
righted again with the weight. The Indians sometimes paddled one home,
and towed the other after them. Dampierre says he knew two Indians, who
every day for a week brought two manitee on board his ship, the least
not weighing less than six hundred pounds, and yet in so small a canoe
that three Englishmen could row it.
If the fishermen struck a sea-cow that had a calf they generally
captured both--the mother carrying the young under her side fins, and
always regarding their safety before her own; the young, moreover, would
seldom desert their mother, and would follow the canoe in spite of noise
and blows. The least sound startled the manitee, but the turtles
required less care. These fish had certain islands near Cuba which they
chose to lay their eggs in. At certain seasons they came from the gulf
of Honduras in such vast multitudes, that ships, which had lost their
latitude, very often steered at night, following the sound of these
clattering shoals. When they had been about a month in the Caribbean sea
they grew fat, and the fishing commenced. Salt turtle was the
Buccaneers' healthiest food, and was supposed to free them from all the
ailments of debauchery. The Indians struck the turtle with a short,
sharp, triangular-headed iron, not more than an inch long, which fitted
into a spear handle. The lance head was loose and had the usual line
attached. Their lines they made of the fibrous bark of a tree, which
they also used for their rigging.
The manitee, or sea-cow, was a favourite article of food with these
wandering seamen. It was a monster as big as a horse, and as unwieldy as
a walrus, with eyes not much larger than peas, and a head like a cow.
Its flesh was white, sweet, and wholesome. The tail of a young fish was
a dainty, and a young sucking-calf, roasted, was an epicure's morsel.
The head and tail of older animals were tough, yet the belly was
frequently eaten.
Dampierre speaks of his companions feasting on pork and peas, and beef
and dough-boys, and this nautical coarseness was generally found
associated with occasional tropical luxuriousness. In cases of
necessity, wrecked sailors fed on sharks, which they first boiled and
then squeezed dry, and stewed with pepper and vinegar. The oil of turtle
they used instead of butter for their dumplings. The best turtle were
said to be those that fed on land; those that lived on sea-weed, and
not on grass, being yellow and rank. The larger fish needed two men to
turn them on their backs. The Flibustiers also ate the iguanas, or large
South American lizards. Vast flocks of doves were found in many of the
islands, sometimes in such abundance that a sailor could knock down five
or six dozen of an afternoon.
The Buccaneers' history is a singular example of how evil generates
evil. The Spaniards destroyed the wild cattle, and the hunters turned
freebooters. Spain discontinued trading to prevent piracy, and the
adventurers, starved for want of gold, made descents upon the mainland.
The evil grew by degrees till the worm they had at first trod upon arose
in their path an indestructible and devastating monster of a hundred
heads. First single ships, then fleets, were swept off by these locusts
of the deep; first, islands were burnt, then villages sacked, and at
last cities conquered. First the North and then the South Pacific were
visited, till the whole coast from Panama to Cape Horn trembled at the
very flutter of their flag. The first Flibustier, Lewis Scott, scared
Campeachy with a few canoes. Grognet grappled the Lima fleet with a
whole squadron of pirate craft. The Buccaneer spirit arose from revenge,
and ended in robbery and murder. At first fierce but merciful, they grew
rapacious, loathsome, and bloody. Their early chivalry forsook
them--they sank into the enemies of God and all mankind, and the last
refuse of them expired on the gallows of Jamaica, children of Cain,
unpitied by any, their very courage despised, and their crimes detested.
At their culminating point, united under the sway of one great mind,
they might have formed a large empire in South America, or conquered it
as tributaries to France or England. Always thirsty for gold, they were
often chivalrous, generous, intrepid, merciful, and disinterested.
A greater evil soon cured the lesser. The Spaniards, dreading robbery
worse than death, ceased in a great measure to trade. The poorer
merchants were ruined by the loss of a single cocoa vessel; the richer
waited for the convoy of the plate fleets, or followed in the wake of
the galleon, hoping to escape if she was captured, as the chickens do
when the hen goes cackling up in the claws of the kite. For every four
vessels that once sailed not more than one could be now seen. What with
the war of France on Holland, and England on France, and all on Spain,
there was little safety for the poor trader. Yet those who could risk a
loss still made great profits. This cessation of trade was a poor remedy
against the sea robber: it was to rob oneself instead of being robbed,
to commit suicide for fear of murder. It was a remedy that saved life,
but rendered life hateful. The Buccaneers, starving for want of prey,
remained moodily in the rocky fastnesses of Tortuga, like famished
eagles looking down on a country they have devastated. To accomplish
greater feats they united in bodies, and made forays on the coast. They
had before remained at the threshold--they now rushed headlong into the
sanctuary, and they got _their_ bread, or rather other people's bread,
by daring dashes and surprises of towns, leaving them only when wrapped
in flames or swept by the pestilence that always followed in their
train.
We may claim for our own nation the first pioneer in this new field of
enterprise. Lewis Scott, an Englishman, led the way by sacking the town
of St. Francisco, in Campeachy, and, compelling the inhabitants to pay a
ransom, returned safely to Jamaica. Where the carcase is there will the
eagles be gathered together, for no sooner had his sails grown small in
the distance than Mansweld, another Buccaneer, made several successful
descents upon the same luckless coast, unfortunate in its very
fertility. He then equipped a fleet and attempted to return by the
kingdom of New Granada to the South Sea, passing the town of Carthagena.
This scheme failed in consequence of a dispute arising between the
French and English crews, who were always quarrelling over their
respective share of provisions; but in spite of this he took the island
of St. Catherine, and attempted to found a Buccaneer state.
John Davis, a Dutchman, excelled both his predecessors in daring.
Cruising about Jamaica he became a scourge to all the Spanish mariners
who ventured near the coasts of the Caraccas, or his favourite haunts,
Carthagena and the Boca del Toro, where he lay wait for vessels bound to
Nicaragua. One day he missed his shot, and having a long time traversed
the sea and taken nothing--a failure which generally drove these brave
men to some desperate expedient to repair their sinking fortunes--he
resolved with ninety men to visit the lagoon of Nicaragua, and sack the
town of Granada. An Indian from the shores of the lagoon promised to
guide him safely and secretly; and his crew, with one voice, declared
themselves ready to follow him wherever he led. By night he rowed thirty
leagues up the river, to the entry of the lake, and concealed his ships
under the boughs of the trees that grew upon the banks; then putting
eighty men in his three canoes he rowed on to the town, leaving ten
sailors to guard the vessels. By day they hid under the trees; at night
they pushed on towards the unsuspecting town, and reached it on the
third midnight--taking it, as he had expected, without a blow and by
surprise. To a sentinel's challenge they replied that they were
fishermen returning home, and two of the crew, leaping on shore, ran
their swords through the interrogator, to stop further questions which
might have been less easily answered. Following their guide they reached
a small covered way that led to the right of the town, while another
Indian towed their canoes to a point to which they had agreed each man
should bring his booty.
As soon as they arrived at the town they separated into small bands, and
were led one by one to the houses of the richest inhabitants. Here they
quietly knocked, and, being admitted as friends, seized the inmates by
the throat and compelled them, on pain of death, to surrender all the
money and jewels that they had. They then roused the sacristans of the
principal churches, from whom they took the keys and carried off all the
altar plate that could be beaten up or rendered portable. The pixes
they stripped of their gems, gouged out the jewelled eyes of virgin
idols, and hammered up the sacramental cups into convenient lumps of
metal.
This quiet and undisturbed pillage had lasted for two hours without a
struggle, when some servants, escaping from the adventurers, began to
ring the alarm bells to warn the town, while a few of the already
plundered citizens, breaking into the marketplace, filled the streets
with uproar and affright. Davis, seeing that the inhabitants were
beginning to rally from that panic which had alone secured his victory,
commenced a retreat, as the enemy were now gathering in armed and
threatening numbers. In a hollow square, with their booty in the centre,
the Buccaneers fought their way to their boats, amid tumultuous
war-cries and shouts of derision and exultation. In spite of their
haste, they were prudent enough to carry with them some rich Spaniards,
intending to exchange them for any of their own men they might lose in
their retreat. On regaining their ships they compelled these prisoners
to send them as a ransom 500 cows, with which they revictualled their
ships for the passage back to Jamaica. They had scarcely well weighed
anchor before they saw 600 mounted Spaniards dash down to the shore in
the hopes of arresting their retreat. A few broadsides were the parting
greetings of these unwelcome visitors.
This expedition was accomplished in eight days. The booty consisted of
coined money and bullion amounting to about 40,000 crowns. Esquemeling
computes it at 4,000 pieces of eight, and in ready money, plate, and
jewels to about 50,000 pieces of eight more.
Thus concluded this adventurous raid, in which a town forty leagues
inland, and containing at least 800 well-armed defenders, was stormed
and robbed by eighty resolute sailors. Davis reached Jamaica in safety
with his plunder, which was soon put into wider circulation by the aid
of the dice, the tavern keepers, and the courtesans. The money once
expended, Davis was roused to fresh exertion. He associated himself with
two or three other captains, who, superstitiously relying on his good
fortune, chose him as admiral of a small flotilla of eight or nine armed
gunboats. The less fortunate rewarded him with boundless confidence. His
first excursion was to the town of St. Christopher, in Cuba, to wait for
the fleet from New Spain, in hopes to cut off some rich unwieldy
straggler. But the fleet contrived to escape his sentinels and pass
untouched. Davis then sallied forth and sacked a small town named St.
Augustine of Florida, in spite of its castle and garrison of 100 men. He
suffered little loss; but the inhabitants proved very poor, and the
booty was small.
In making war against Spain, the hunters were mere privateersmen
cruising against a national enemy; but in their endurance, patience, and
energy, they stood alone. In their onset--rushing, singing, and dancing
through fire and flame--they resembled rather the old Barsekars or the
first levies of Mohammed. But in one point they were very remarkable;
that they did more, and were yet actuated by a lower motive. Almost
devoid of religion, they fought with all the madness of fanaticism
against a people themselves constitutionally fanatic, but already
enervated by climate, by sudden wealth, and a long experience of
contaminating luxury. The galleons of Manilla were their final aim, as
they gradually passed from the devastated shores of South America to the
Philippine Islands and the coasts of Guinea. They had been the
instrument of Providence, and knew themselves so, to avenge the wrongs
of the Indian upon the Spaniard; they were soon to become the first
avengers of the Negro. Long years of plunder had made the Spaniard and
the Creole as secretive as the Hindu. At the first intelligence of some
terrified fisherman, the frightened townsman threw his pistoles into
wells, or mortared them up in the wall of his fortresses. Laden mules
were driven into the interior; the women fled to the nearest plantation;
the old men barred themselves up in the church. Their first thought was
always flight; their second, to turn and strike a blow for all they
loved, valued, and revered.
The debauchery of the Buccaneers was as unequalled as their courage.
Oexmelin relates a story of an Englishman who gave 500 crowns to his
mistress at a single revel. This man, who had earned 1,500 crowns by
exposing himself to desperate dangers, was, within three months, sold
for a term of three years to a planter, to discharge a tavern debt which
he could not pay. A conqueror of Panama might be seen to-morrow driven
by the overseer's whip among a gang of slaves, cutting sugar canes, or
picking tobacco.
Another Buccaneer, a Frenchman, surnamed Vent-en-Panne, was so addicted
to play that he lost everything but his shirt. Every pistole that he
could earn he spent in this absorbing vice--so tempting to men, who
longed for excitement, were indifferent to money, and daily risked their
lives for the prospect of gain. On one occasion he lost 500 crowns, his
whole share of some recent prize-money, besides 300 crowns which he had
borrowed of a comerade who would now lend him no more. Determined to try
his fortune again, he hired himself as servant at the very
gambling-house where he had been ruined, and, by lighting pipes for the
players and bringing them in wine, earned fifty crowns in two days. He
staked this, and soon won 12,000 crowns. He then paid his debts and
resolved to lose no more, shipping himself on board an English vessel
that touched at Barbadoes. At Barbadoes he met a rich Jew who offered to
play him. Unable to abstain, he sat down, and won 1,300 crowns and
100,000 lbs. of sugar already shipped for England, and, in addition to
this, a large mill and sixty slaves. The Jew, begging him to stay and
give him his revenge, ran and borrowed some money, and returned and took
up the cards. The Buccaneer consented, more from love of play than
generosity; and the Jew, putting down 1,500 jacobuses, won back 100
crowns, and finally all his antagonist's previous winnings--stripping
him even to the very clothes he wore. The delighted winner allowed him
for very shame to retain his clothes, and gave him money enough to
return, disconsolate and beggared, to Tortuga. Becoming again a
Buccaneer, he gained 6,000 or 7,000 crowns. M. D'Ogeron, the governor,
treating him as a wayward child, taking away his money, sent him back to
France with bills of exchange for the amount. Vent-en-Panne, now cured
of his vice, took to merchandise; but, always unfortunate, was killed in
his first voyage to the West Indies, his vessel being attacked by two
Ostende frigates, of twenty-four or thirty guns each, which were
eventually, however, driven off by the dead man's crew of only thirty
Buccaneers.
When the pleasures of Tortuga or Jamaica had swallowed up all the
hard-earned winnings of these men, they returned to sea, expending their
last pistoles in powder and ball, and leaving heavy scores still
unsettled with the cabaretiers. They then hastened to the quays, or
small sandy islands off Cuba, to careen their vessels and to salt
turtle. Sometimes they repaired to Honduras, where they had Indian
wives; latterly, to the Galapagos isles, to the Boca del Toro, or the
coast of Castilla del Oro.
Some Buccaneers, Esquemeling says, would spend 3,000 piastres in a
night, not leaving themselves even a shirt in the morning. "My own
master," he adds, "would buy a whole pipe of wine, and, placing it in
the street, would force every one that passed by to drink with him,
threatening also to pistol them in case they would not do it. At other
times he would do the same with barrels of ale or beer; and very often
with both his hands he would throw these liquors about the street, and
wet the clothes of such as walked by, without regard whether he spoiled
their apparel or not, or whether they were men or women." Port Royal was
a favourite scene for such carousals.
Even as late as 1694, Montauban gives us some idea of the wild
debaucheries committed by the Buccaneers even at Bourdeaux. "My
freebooters," he says, "who had not seen France for a long time, finding
themselves now in a great city where pleasure and plenty reigned, were
not backward to refresh themselves after the fatigues they had endured
while so long absent from their native country. They spent a world of
money here, and proved horribly extravagant. The merchants and their
hosts made no scruple to advance them money, or lend them as much as
they pleased, upon the reputation of their wealth and the noise there
was throughout the city of the valuable prizes whereof they had a share.
All the nights they spent in such divertisements as pleased them best;
and the days, in running up and down the town in masquerade, causing
themselves to be carried in chairs with lighted flambeaux at noon--of
which debauches some died, while four of my crew fairly deserted me."
This, it must be remembered, was at a time when buccaneering had sunk
into privateering--the half-way house to mere piracy. The distinguishing
mark of the true Buccaneer was, that he attacked none but Spaniards.
Of the Buccaneers' estimation of religion, Charlevoix gives us some
curious accounts. He says, "there remained no traces of it in their
heart, but still, sometimes, from time to time, they appeared to
meditate deeply. They never commenced a combat without first embracing
each other, in sign of reconciliation. They would at such times strike
themselves rudely on the breast, as if they wished to rouse some
compunction in their hearts, and were not able. Once escaped from
danger, they returned headlong to their debauchery, blasphemy, and
brigandage. The Buccaneers, looking upon themselves as worthy fellows,
regarded the Flibustiers as wretches, but in reality there was not much
difference. The Buccaneers were, perhaps, the less vicious, but the
Flibustiers preserved a little more of the externals of religion; _with
the exception of a certain honour among them, and their abstinence from
human flesh, few savages were more wicked, and a great number of them
much less so_."
This passage shows a very curious jealousy between the hunters and the
corsairs, and a singular distinction as to religious feeling. Pere
Labat, however, speaks of the Flibustiers as attending confession
immediately after a sea-fight with most exemplary devotion. A more
important distinction than that made by Charlevoix was that between the
Protestant and Roman Catholic adventurers, the latter being as
superstitious as the former were irreverent. Ravenau de Lussan always
speaks with horror of the blasphemy and irreligion of his English
comerades, one of whom was an old trooper of Cromwell's; and Grognet's
fleet eventually separated from the English ships, on account of the
latter crews lopping crucifixes with their sabres, and firing at images
with their pistols. A Flibustier captain, named Daniel, shot one of his
men in a Spanish church for behaving irreverently at mass; and Ringrose
gives an instance of an English commander who threw the dice overboard,
if he found his men gambling on a Sunday.
We find Ravenau de Lussan's troop singing a _Te Deum_ after victories,
and Oexmelin tells us that prayers were said daily on board Flibustier
ships.
It is difficult to say from what class of life either the Buccaneers or
the Flibustiers sprang. The planters often became hunters, and the
hunters sailors, and the reverse. Morgan was a Welsh farmer's son, who
ran away to sea; Montauban, the son of a Gascon gentleman; D'Ogeron had
been a captain in the French marines; Von Horn, a common sailor in an
Ostende smack; Dampierre was a Somersetshire yeoman, and Esquemeling a
Dutch planter's apprentice. Charlevoix says, "few could bear for many
years a life so hard and laborious, and the greater part only continued
in it till they could gain enough to become planters. Many, continually
wasting their money, never earned sufficient to buy a plantation; others
grew so accustomed to the life, and so fond even of its hardships and
painful risks, that, though often heirs to good fortunes, they would not
leave it to return to France."
The life of M. D'Ogeron, the governor of Tortuga, is an example of
another class of Buccaneers, and of the causes which led to the choice
of such a profession. At fifteen, he was captain of a regiment of
marines, and in 1656, joining a company intending to colonize the
Matingo river, he embarked in a ship, fitted out at the expense of
17,000 livres. Disappointed in this bubble, he tried to settle at
Martinique, but deceived by the governor, who withdrew a grant of land,
he determined to settle with the Buccaneers of St. Domingo. Embarking in
a ricketty vessel, he ran ashore on Hispaniola, and lost all his
merchandise and provisions. Giving his _engages_ their liberty, he
joined the hunters, and became distinguished as well for courage as
virtue. His goods sent from France were sold at a loss, and he returned
to his native country a poor man. Collecting his remaining money, he
hired _engages_, and loaded a vessel with wine and brandy. Finding the
market glutted, he sold his cargo at a loss, and was cheated by his
Jamaica agent. Returning again to France, he fitted out a third vessel,
and finally settled as a planter in Hispaniola. At this juncture the
French West India Company fixed their eyes upon him, and in 1665 made
him governor of their colony.
Ravenau de Lussan illustrates the motives that sometimes led the youth
of the higher classes to turn Buccaneers. He commences his book with
true French vanity, by saying, that few children of Paris, which
contains so many of the wonders of the world (ten out of the eight, we
suppose), seek their fortune abroad. From a child he was seized with a
passionate disposition for travel, and would steal out of his father's
house and play truant when he was yet scarce seven. He soon reached La
Vilette and the suburbs, and by degrees learnt to lose sight of Paris.
With this passion arose a desire for a military life. The noise of a
drum in the street transported him with joy. He made a friend of an
officer, and, offering him his sword, joined his company, and witnessed
the siege of Conde, ending his campaign, still unwearied of his new form
of life. He then became a cadet in a marine regiment. The captain
drained him of all his money, and his father, at a great expense, bought
him his discharge. Under the Count D'Avegeau he entered the French
Guards, and fought at the siege of St. Guislain. Growing, on his return,
weary of Paris, he embarked again on sea, having nothing but voyages in
his head; the longest and most dangerous appearing to his imagination,
he says, the most delightful. Travelling by land seemed to him long and
difficult, and he once more chose the sea, deeming it only fit for a
woman to remain at home ignorant of the world. His affectionate parents
tried in vain to reason him out of this gadding humour, and finding him
only grow firmer and more inflexible, they desisted.
Not caring whither he went, so he could get to sea, he embarked in 1697
from Dieppe for St. Domingo. Here he remained for five months _engage_
to a French planter, "more a Turk than a Frenchman." "But what misery,"
he says, "soever I have undergone with him, I freely forgive him, being
resolved to forget his name, which I shall not mention in this place,
because the laws of Christianity require that at my hand, though as to
matters of charity he is not to expect much of that in me, since he, on
his part, has been every way defective in the exercise thereof upon my
account." But his patience at last worn out, and weary of cruelties that
seemed endless, De Lussan applied to M. de Franquesnay, the king's
lieutenant, who himself gave him shelter in his house for six months. He
was now in debt, and thinking it "honest to pay his creditors," he
joined the freebooters in order to satisfy them, not willing to apply
again for money to his parents. "These borrowings from the Spaniards,"
he says, "have this advantage attending them, that there is no
obligation to repay them," and there was war between the two crowns, so
that he was a legal privateersman. Selecting a leader, De Lussan pitched
on De Graff, as a brave corsair, who happened to be then at St. Domingo,
eager to sail. Furnishing himself with arms, at the expense of
Franquesnay, he joined De Graff. "We were," he says, "in a few hours
satisfied with each other, and became such friends as those are wont to
be who are about to run the same risk of fortune, and apparently to die
together." The 22nd of November, the day he sailed from Petit Guave,
seemed the happiest of his life.
Dampierre mentions an old Buccaneer, who was slain at the taking of
Leon. "He was," he says, "a stout, grey-headed old man, aged about
eighty-four, who had served under Oliver Cromwell in the Irish
rebellion; after which he was at Jamaica, and had followed privateering
ever since. He would not accept the offer our men made him to tarry
ashore, but said he would venture as far as the best of them; but when
surrounded by the Spaniards he refused "to take quarter, but discharged
his gun amongst them, keeping a pistol still charged; so they shot him
dead at a distance. His name was Swan (_rara avis_). He was a very
merry, hearty old man, and always used to declare he would never take
quarter."
When the adventurers were at sea, they lived together as a friendly
brotherhood. Every morning at ten o'clock the ship's cook put the kettle
on the fire to boil the salt beef for the crew, in fresh water if they
had plenty, but if they ran short in brine; meal was boiled at the same
time, and made into a thick porridge, which was mixed with the gravy and
the fat of the meat. The whole was then served to the crew on large
platters, seven men to a plate. If the captain or cook helped themselves
to a larger share than their messmates, any of the republican crew had a
right to change plates with them. But, notwithstanding this brotherly
equality, and in spite of the captain being deposable by his crew, there
was maintained at all moments of necessity the strictest discipline, and
the most rigid subordination of rank. The crews had two meals a day.
They always said grace before meat: the French Catholics singing the
canticles of Zecharias, the Magnificat, or the Miserere; the English
reading a chapter from the New Testament, or singing a psalm.
Directly a vessel hove in sight, the Flibustiers gave chase. If it
showed a Spanish flag, the guns were run out, and the decks cleared; the
pikes lashed ready, and every man prepared his musket and powder, of
which he alone was the guardian (and not the gunner), these articles
being generally paid for from the common stock, unless provided by the
captain.
They first fell on their knees at their quarters (each group round its
gun), to pray God that they might obtain both victory and plunder. Then
all lay down flat on the deck, except the few left to steer and
navigate--proceeding to board as soon as their musketeers had silenced
the enemy's fire. If victorious, they put their prisoners on shore,
attended to the wounded, and took stock of the booty. A third part of
the crew went on board the prize, and a prize captain was chosen by lot.
No excuse was allowed; and if illness prevented the man elected taking
the office, his _matelot_, or companion, took his place.
On arriving at Tortuga, they paid a commission to the governor, and
before dividing the spoil, rewarded the captain, the surgeons, and the
wounded. The whole crew then threw into a common heap all they possessed
above the value of five sous, and took an oath on the New Testament,
holding up their right hands, that they had kept nothing back. Any one
detected in perjury was marooned, and his share either given to the
rest, to the heirs of the dead, or as a bequest to some chapel. The
jewels and merchandise were sold, and they divided the produce.
"It was impossible," says Oexmelin, "to put any obstacle in the way of
men who, animated simply by the hope of gain, were capable of such
great enterprises, having _nothing but life_ to lose and all to win. It
is true that they would not have persisted long in their expeditions if
they had had neither boats nor provisions. For ships they never wanted,
because they were in the habit of going out in small canoes and
capturing the largest and best provisioned vessels. For harbours they
could never want, because everybody fled before them, and they had but
to appear to be victorious." This intelligent and animated writer
concludes his book by expressing an opinion that a firm and organized
resistance by Spain at the outset might have stopped the subsequent
mischief; but this opinion he afterwards qualifies in the following
words, which, coming from such a writer so well acquainted with those of
whom he writes, speaks volumes in favour of Buccaneer prowess: "Je dis
_peut-etre_, car les aventuriers sont de terribles gens."
Charlevoix describes the first Flibustiers as going out in canoes with
twenty-five or thirty men, without pilot or provisions, to capture
pearl-fishers and surprise small cruisers. If they succeeded, they went
to Tortuga, bought a vessel, and started 150 strong, going to Cuba to
take in salt turtle, or to Port Margot or Bayaha for dried pork or
beef--dividing all upon the _compagnon a bon lot_ principle. They always
said public prayer before starting on an expedition, and returned solemn
thanks to God for victory.
"They were," says a Jesuit writer, "at first so crowded in their boats
that they had scarcely room to lie down; and, as they practised no
economy in eating, they were always short of food. They were also night
and day exposed to the inclemency of the weather, and yet loved so much
the independence in which they lived, that no one murmured. Some sang
when others wished to sleep, and all were by turns compelled to bear
these inconveniences without complaint. But one may imagine men so
little at their ease spared no pains to gain more comforts; that the
sight of a larger and more convenient vessel gave them courage
sufficient to capture it; and that hunger deprived them of all sense of
the danger of procuring food. They attacked all they met without a
thought, and boarded as soon as possible. A single volley would have
sunk their vessels; but they were skilful in manoeuvre, their sailors
were very active, and they presented to the enemy nothing but a prow
full of fusiliers, who, firing through the portholes, struck the gunners
with terror. Once on board, nothing could prevent them becoming masters
of a ship, however numerous the crew. The Spaniards' blood grew cold
when those whom they called, and looked upon as, demons came in sight,
and they frequently surrendered at once in order to obtain quarter. If
the prize was rich their lives were spared; but if the cargo proved
poor, the Buccaneers often threw the crew into the sea in revenge."
Their favourite coasts were the Caraccas, Carthagena, Nicaragua, and
Campeachy, where the ports were numerous and well frequented. Their best
harbours at the Caraccas were Cumana, Canagote, Coro, and Maracaibo; at
Carthagena, La Rancheria, St. Martha, and Portobello. Round Cuba they
watched for vessels going from New Spain to Maracaibo. If going, they
found them laden with silver; if returning, full of cocoa. The prizes to
the Caraccas were laden with the lace and manufactures of Spain; those
from Havannah, with leather, Campeachy wood, cocoa, tobacco, and Spanish
coin.
The dress of the Buccaneer sailors must have varied with the changes of
the age. Retaining their red shirts and leather sandals as the working
dress of their brotherhood, we find them donning all the splendour
rummaged from Spanish cabins, now wearing the plumed hat and laced
sword-belt of Charles the Second's reign, and now the tufts of ribbons
of the perfumed court of Louis Quatorze. Sprung from all nations and all
ranks, some of them prided themselves upon the rough beard, bare feet,
and belted shirt of the rudest seaman, while others, like Grammont and
De Graff, flaunted in the richest costumes of their period. They must
have passed from the long cloak and loose cassock of the Stuart reign to
the jack-boots and Dutch dress of William of Orange; from the laced and
flowing Steenkirk to the fringed cock-hat and deep-flapped waistcoat of
Queen Anne. In the English translation of Esquemeling, Barthelemy
Portugues, one of the earliest sea-rovers, is represented as having his
long, lank hair parted in the centre and falling on his shoulders, and
his moustachios long and rough. He wears a plain embroidered coat with a
neck-band, and carries in his arms a short, broad sabre, unsheathed, as
was the habit with many Buccaneer chiefs. Roche Braziliano appears in a
plain hunter's shirt, the strings tying it at the neck being fastened in
a bow. Lolonnois has the same shirt, showing at his neck and puffing
through the openings of his sleeve, and he carries a naked broadsword
with a shell guard. In the portrait of Sir Henry Morgan we see much more
affectation of aristocratic dress. He has a rich coat of Charles the
Second's period, a laced cravat tied in a fringed bow with long ends,
and his broad sword-belt is stiff with gold lace. The hunter's shirt,
however, still shows through the slashed sleeves.