CHAPTER VII

JOHN OXENHAM

The voyage--His pinnace--Into the South Sea--Disaster--His unhappy

end

The John Oxenham, or Oxnam, who followed Drake to Nombre de Dios, and

stood with him that sunny day watching the blue Pacific from the

tree-top, was a Devonshire gentleman from South Tawton. He was of good

family and well to do. He may, perhaps, have given money towards the

fitting out of Drake's squadron. It is at least certain that he held in

that voyage a position of authority considerably greater than that of

"soldier, mariner, and cook"--the rates assigned to him by Sir Richard

Hawkins. On his return from the Nombre de Dios raid, he disappears, and

it is uncertain whether he followed Drake to Ireland, or settled down at

home in Devonshire. He did not forget the oath he had sworn to his old

Captain, to follow him to the South Sea in God's good time. But after

waiting a year or two, and finding that Drake was not ready to attempt

that adventure, he determined to go at his own charge, with such men as

he could find. He was well known in the little Devon seaports as a bold

sailor and fiery sea-captain. He was "a fine figure of a man," and the

glory of Drake's raid was partly his. He was looked upon as one of the

chief men in that foray. He had, therefore, little difficulty in getting

recruits for a new voyage to the Main.

In the year 1574 he set sail from Plymouth in a fine ship of 140 tons,

with a crew of seventy men and boys. He made a fair passage to the

Main, and anchored in Drake's old anchorage--either that of the secret

haven, in the Gulf of Darien, or that farther west, among the Catives.

Here he went ashore, and made friends with the Maroons, some of whom, no

doubt, were old acquaintances, still gay with beads or iron-work which

he had given them two years before. They told him that the treasure

trains "from Panama to Nombre de Dios" were now strongly guarded by

Spanish soldiers, so that he might not hope to win such a golden booty

as Drake had won, by holding up a recua on the march. Oxenham,

therefore, determined "to do that which never any man before

enterprised"--by leaving his ship, marching over the watershed, building

a pinnace in the woods, and going for a cruise on the South Sea. He

dragged his ship far into the haven, struck her topmasts, and left her

among the trees, beached on the mud, and covered with green boughs so as

to be hidden from view. Her great guns were swung ashore, and buried,

and the graves of them strewn with leaves and brushwood. He then armed

his men with their calivers and their sacks of victual, "and so went

with the Negroes," dragging with them two small guns, probably

quick-firing guns, mounted on staves of wood or iron. Hawkins says that

he left four or five men behind him as shipkeepers. After a march of

"about twelve leagues into the maine-land" the Maroons brought him to a

river "that goeth to the South Sea." Here the party halted, and built

themselves little huts of boughs to live in while they made themselves a

ship.

They cut down some trees here, and built themselves a pinnace "which was

five and fortie foot by the keele." They seem to have brought their

sails and tackling with them, but had they not done so they could have

made shift with the rough Indian cloth and the fibrous, easily twisted

bark of the maho-tree. Having built this little ship, they went aboard

of her, and dropped downstream to the Pacific--the first English crew,

but not the first Englishman, to sail those waters. Six negroes came

with them to act as guides. As soon as they had sailed out of the

river's mouth, they made for the Pearl Islands, or Islands of the King,

"which is five and twentie leagues from Panama." Here they lay very

close, in some snug inlet hidden from the sea. Some of them went inland

to a rocky cliff, to watch the seas for ships coming northward from Peru

with treasure from the gold and silver mines. The islands are in the

fairway between Panama and Lima, but ten days passed before the watchers

saw a sail, and cried out to those in the boat. "There came a small

Barke by, which came from Peru, from a place called Quito"; and the

pinnace dashed alongside of her, and carried her by the sword, before

her sailors learned what was the matter. She was laden with "sixtie

thousand pezos of golde, and much victuals." John Oxenham took her

lading, and kept the barque by him, while he stayed on at the islands.

At the end of six days, another "barke" came by, from Lima, "in whiche

he tooke an hundred thousand pezos of silver in barres." This was

plunder enough to "make" any voyage, and with this John Oxenham was

content. Before he sailed away, however, he marched upon one or two of

the Pearl fisheries, where he found a few pearls. He then sailed

northward to the river's mouth taking his prizes with him, with all the

prisoners.

At the river's mouth he very foolishly "sent away the two prizes that

hee tooke"--a piece of clemency which knotted the rope under his ear. He

then sailed up the river, helping his pinnace by poles, oars, and warps,

but making slow progress.

Before he reached this river, the negroes of the Pearl Islands sent word

to the Governor of Panama that English pirates had been in those seas

plundering their fisheries. "Within two days" the Governor despatched

four galleys, "with negroes to rowe," and twenty-five musketeers in each

galley, under the Captain John de Ortega, to search the Pearl Islands

very thoroughly for those robbers. They reached the islands, learned in

which direction the pirate ships had gone, and rowed away north to

overtake them. As they came near the land, they fell in with the two

prizes, the men of which were able to tell them how the pirates had gone

up the river but a few days before.

John de Ortega came to the river's mouth with his four galleys, and

"knew not which way to take, because there were three partitions in the

river, to goe up in." He decided at last to go up the greatest, and was

actually rowing towards it, when "he saw comming down a lesser river

many feathers of hennes, which the Englishmen had pulled to eate." These

drifting feathers, thrown overboard so carelessly, decided the Spanish

captain. He turned up the lesser river "where he saw the feathers," and

bade his negroes give way heartily. Four days later, he saw the English

pinnace drawn up on the river-bank "upon the sands," guarded by six of

her crew. The musketeers at once fired a volley, which killed one of the

Englishmen, and sent the other five scattering to the cover of the

woods. There was nothing in the pinnace but bread and meat. All the gold

pezoes and the bars of silver had been landed.

The presence of the boat guard warned the Spanish captain that the main

body of the pirates was near at hand. He determined to land eighty of

his musketeers to search those woods before returning home. "Hee had not

gone half a league" before he found one of the native huts, thatched

with palm leaves, in which were "all the Englishmen's goods and the gold

and silver also." The Englishmen were lying about the hut, many of them

unarmed, with no sentry keeping a lookout for them. Taken by surprise as

they were, they ran away into the woods, leaving all things in the hands

of the Spaniards. The Spaniards carried the treasure back to the

galleys, and rowed slowly down the river "without following the

Englishmen any further."

It appeared later, that Oxenham had ordered his men to carry the gold

and silver from the place where they had hauled the pinnace ashore, to

the place where the ship was hidden. To this the mariners joyfully

assented, "for hee promised to give them part of it besides their

wages." Unfortunately, they wished this "part of it" paid to them at

once, before they shifted an ingot--a want which seemed to reflect upon

John Oxenham's honour. He was naturally very angry "because they would

not take his word" to pay them something handsome when he reached home.

He was a choleric sea-captain, and began, very naturally, to damn them

for their insolence. "He fell out with them, and they with him," says

Hakluyt. One of them, stung by his Captain's curses, "would have killed

the Captaine" there and then, with his caliver,[2] or sailor's knife.

This last act was too much. Oxenham gave them a few final curses, and

told them that, if such were their temper, they should not so much as

touch a quoit of the treasure, but that he would get Maroons to carry

it. He then left them, and went alone into the forest to find Maroons

for the porterage. As he came back towards the camp, with a gang of

negroes, he met the five survivors of the boat guard "and the rest also

which ran from the house," all very penitent and sorry now that the

mischief had been done. They told him of the loss of the treasure, and

looked to him for guidance and advice, promising a better behaviour in

the future. Oxenham told them that if they helped him to recover the

treasure, they should have half of it, "if they got it from the

Spaniards." "The Negroes promised to help him with their bows and

arrows," and with this addition to their force they set off down the

river-bank in pursuit.

[Footnote 2: _Caliver_, a light, hand musket. A musket without a crutch,

or rest.]

After three days' travelling, they came upon the Spaniards, in camp, on

the bank of the river, apparently in some strong position, sheltered

with trees. Oxenham at once fell on "with great fury," exposing himself

and his men to the bullets of the musketeers. The Spaniards were used to

woodland fighting. Each musketeer retired behind a tree, and fired from

behind it, without showing more than his head and shoulders, and then

but for a moment. The Englishmen charged up the slope to the muzzles of

the guns, but were repulsed with loss, losing eleven men killed and five

men taken alive. The number of wounded is not stated. The negroes, who

were less active in the charge, lost only five men. The Spaniards loss

was two killed "and five sore hurt." The English were beaten off the

ground, and routed. They made no attempt to rally, and did not fall on a

second time.

The Spanish captain asked his prisoners why they had not crossed the

isthmus to their ship in the days before the pursuit began. To this the

prisoners answered with the tale of their mutinies, adding that their

Captain would not stay longer in those parts now that his company had

been routed. The Spaniards then buried their dead, retired on board

their galleys, and rowed home to Panama, taking with them their

prisoners and the English pinnace. When they arrived in that city, the

prisoners were tortured till they confessed where their ship was hidden.

Advice was then sent to Nombre de Dios, where four pinnaces were at once

equipped to seek out the secret haven. They soon found the ship, "and

brought her to Nombre de Dios," where her guns and buried stores were

divided among the King's ships employed in the work of the coast. While

this search for the ship was being made, the Viceroy of Peru sent out

150 musketeers to destroy the "fiftie English men" remaining alive.

These troops, conducted by Maroons, soon found the English in a camp by

the river, "making of certaine Canoas to goe into the North Sea, and

there to take some Bark or other." Many of them were sick and ill, "and

were taken." The rest escaped into the forest, where they tried to make

some arrangement with the negroes. The negroes, it seems, were angry

with Oxenham for his failure to keep his word to them. They had agreed

to help him on condition that they might have all the Spanish prisoners

to torture "to feed their insatiable revenges." Oxenham had released his

prisoners, as we have seen, and the Maroons had been disappointed of

their dish of roasted Spaniards' hearts. They were naturally very angry,

and told John Oxenham, when he came to them for help, that his

misfortunes were entirely due to his own folly. Had he kept his word,

they said, he would have reached his ship without suffering these

reverses. After a few days, being weary of keeping so many foreigners,

they betrayed the English sailors to the Spaniards. "They were brought

to Panama," to the justice of that city, who asked John Oxenham "whether

hee had the Queene's licence, or the licence of any other Prince or

Lord, for his attempt." To this John Oxenham answered that he had no

licence saving his sword. He was then condemned to death with the rest

of his company, with the exception of two (or five) ships' boys. After a

night or two in Panama prison, within sound of the surf of the Pacific,

the mariners were led out, and shot. Oxenham and the master and the

pilot were sent to Lima, where they were hanged as pirates in the

square of the city. A force of musketeers was then sent into the

interior, to reduce the Maroons "which had assisted those English men."

The punitive force "executed great justice," till "the Negroes grew wise

and wary," after which there was no more justice to be done. The ships'

boys, who were spared, were probably sold as slaves in Lima, or Panama.

They probably lived in those towns for the rest of their lives, and may

have become good Catholics, and wealthy, after due probation under the

whip.

Sir Richard Hawkins, who was in Panama in 1593, and who may have heard a

Spanish version of the history, tells us that aboard the treasure ship

taken by Oxenham were "two peeces of speciall estimation: the one a

table of massie gold, with emralds ... a present to the King; the other

a lady of singular beautie." According to Sir Richard, John Oxenham fell

in love with this lady, and it was through her prayers that he released

the other prisoners. He is said to have "kept the lady" when he turned

the other prisoners away. The lady's "sonne, or a nephew," who was among

those thus discharged, made every effort to redeem his mother (or aunt).

He prayed so vehemently and "with such diligence," to the Governor at

Panama, that the four galleys were granted to him "within few howers."

The story is not corroborated; but Oxenham was very human, and Spanish

beauty, like other beauty, is worth sinning for.

A year or two later, Captain Andrew Barker of Bristol, while cruising

off the Main, captured a Spanish frigate "between Chagre and Veragua."

On board of her, pointing through the port-holes, were four cast-iron

guns which had been aboard John Oxenham's ship. They were brought to

England, and left in the Scilly Islands, A.D. 1576.

_Note._--The story of John Oxenham is taken from "Purchas his

Pilgrimes," vol. iv. (the original large 4to edition); and from

Hakluyt, vol. iii. p. 526. Another version of the tale is given in

Sir R. Hawkins' "Observations." He is also mentioned in Hakluyt's

account of Andrew Barker.

On the Spanish Main; Or, Some English forays on the Isthmus of Darien · 第 7 / 20 章