CAPTAIN DAMPIER
Campeachy--Logwood cutting--The march to Santa Maria
William Dampier, a Somersetshire man, who had a taste for roving, went
to the West Indies for the first time in 1674, about three years after
the sack of Panama. He was "then about twenty-two years old," with
several years of sea-service behind him. He had been to the north and to
the east, and had smelt powder in a King's ship during the Dutch wars.
He came to the West Indies to manage a plantation, working his way "as a
Seaman" aboard the ship of one Captain Kent. Planting sugar or cocoa on
Sixteen-Mile Walk in an island so full of jolly sinners proved to be but
dull work. Dampier tried it for some weeks, and then slipped away to sea
with a Port Royal trader, who plied about the coast, fetching the
planters' goods to town, and carrying European things, such as cloth,
iron, powder, or the like, to the planters' jetties along the coast.
That was a more pleasant life, for it took the young man all round the
island, to quiet plantings where old buccaneers were at work. These were
kindly fellows, always ready for a yarn with the shipmen who brought
their goods from Port Royal. They treated the young man well, giving him
yams, plantains, and sweet potatoes, with leave to wander through their
houses. "But after six or seven Months" Dampier "left that Employ," for
he had heard strange tales of the logwood cutters in Campeachy Bay, and
longed to see something of them. He, therefore, slipped aboard a small
Jamaica vessel which was going to the bay "to load logwood," with two
other ships in company. The cargo of his ship "was rum and sugar; a very
good Commodity for the Log-wood Cutters, who were then about 250 Men,
most English." When they anchored off One Bush Key, by the oyster banks
and "low Mangrovy Land," these lumbermen came aboard for drink, buying
rum by the gallon or firkin, besides some which had been brewed into
punch. They stayed aboard, drinking, till the casks gave out, firing off
their small-arms with every health, and making a dreadful racket in that
still lagoon, where the silence was seldom so violently broken. The
logwood began to come aboard a day or two later; and Dampier sometimes
went ashore with the boat for it, on which occasions he visited the huts
of the woodmen, and ate some merry meals with them, "with Pork and
Pease, or Beef and Dough-boys," not to mention "Drams or Punch."
On the voyage home he was chased by Spaniards, who "fired a Gun" at the
ketch, but could not fetch her alongside.
It was an easy life aboard that little ketch; for every morning they
fished for their suppers, and at no time was any work done unless the
ship was actually in peril of wreck. While they were lazying slowly
eastward, "tumbling like an Egg-shell in the Sea," her captain ran her
on the Alcranes, a collection of sandy little islands, where they stayed
for some days before they found a passage out to sea. They spent the
days in fishing, or flinging pebbles at the rats, or killing boobies,
and then set sail again, arriving after some days' sailing, at the Isles
of Pines.
Here they landed to fill fresh water at the brooks, among the sprays of
red mangrove, which grew thickly at the water's edge. They also took
ashore their "two bad Fowling-pieces," with intent to kill a wild hog
or cow, being then in want of food, for the ship's provisions had given
out. They did not kill any meat for all their hunting, nor did they
catch much fish. Their ill success tempted the sailors to make for the
Cuban keys, where they thought they would find great abundance, "either
Fish or Flesh." The Cuban keys were favourite haunts of the buccaneers,
but it was dangerous for a small ship like the ketch to venture in among
them. On Cape Corientes there was a Spanish garrison of forty soldiers,
chiefly mulattoes and caribs, who owned a swift periagua, fitted with
oars and sails. They kept sentinels always upon the Cape, and whenever a
ship hove in sight they would "launch out," and seize her, and cut the
throats of all on board, "for fear of telling Tales." Fear of this
garrison, and the prudent suggestion of Dampier--that "it was as
probable that we might get as little Food in the South Keys, as we did
at Pines, where, though there was plenty of Beefs and Hogs, yet we could
not to tell how to get any--" at last prevailed upon the seamen to try
for Jamaica. They were without food of any kind, save a little flour
from the bottoms of the casks, and two "Barrels of Beef," which they had
taken west to sell, "but 'twas so bad that none would buy it." On a
porridge of this meat, chopped up with mouldy flour, they contrived to
keep alive, "jogging on" towards the east till they made Jamaica. They
arrived off Blewfield's Point thirteen weeks after leaving Campeachy,
and, as Dampier says: "I think never any vessel before nor since made
such Traverses ... as we did.... We got as much Experience as if we had
been sent out on a Design." However, they dropped their anchor "at
Nigrill" "about three a Clock in the Afternoon," and sent in the boat
for fruit and poultry. One or two sea-captains, whose ketches were at
anchor there, came out to welcome the new arrival. In the little
"Cabbin," where the lamp swung in gimbals, the sailors "were very busie,
going to drink a Bowl of Punch, ... after our long Fatigue and Fasting."
The thirsty sea-captains, bronzed by the sun, came stumping down the
ladder to bear a hand. One captain, "Mr John Hooker," said that he was
under "Oath to drink but three Draughts of Strong Liquor a Day." The
bowl, which had not been touched, lay with him, with six quarts of good
rum punch inside it. This Mr Hooker, "putting the Bowl to his Head,
turn'd it off at one Draught"--he being under oath, and, doubtless,
thirsty. "And so, making himself drunk, disappointed us of our
Expectations, till we made another Bowl." Thus with good cheer did they
recruit themselves in that hot climate after long sailing of the seas.
Dampier passed the next few weeks in Port Royal, thinking of the jolly
life at One Bush Key, and of the little huts, so snugly thatched, and of
the camp fires, when the embers glowed so redly at night before the moon
rose. The thought of the logwood cutters passing to and fro about those
camp fires, to the brandy barrel or the smoking barbecue, was pleasant
to him. He felt inclined "to spend some Time at the Logwood Trade," much
as a young gentleman of that age would have spent "some Time" on the
grand tour with a tutor. He had a little gold laid by, so that he was
able to lay in a stock of necessaries for the trade--such as "Hatchets,
Axes, Long Knives, Saws, Wedges, etc., a Pavillion to sleep in, a Gun
with Powder and Shot, etc." When all was ready, he went aboard a New
England ship, and sailed for Campeachy, where he settled "in the West
Creek of the West Lagoon" with some old logwood cutters who knew the
trade.
Logwood cutting was then a very profitable business, for the wood
fetched from £70 to £100 a ton in the European markets. The wood is very
dense, and so heavy that it sinks in water. The work of cutting it, and
bringing it to the ships, in the rough Campeachy country, where there
were no roads, was very hard. The logwood cutters were, therefore, men
of muscle, fond of violent work. Nearly all of them in Dampier's time
were buccaneers who had lost their old trade. They were "sturdy, strong
Fellows," able to carry "Burthens of three or four hundred Weight," and
"contented to labour very hard." Their hands and arms were always dyed a
fine scarlet with the continuous rubbing of the wood, and their clothes
always smelt of the little yellow logwood flowers, which smell very
sweet and strong, at most seasons of the year. The life lived by the
lumbermen was wild, rough, and merry. They had each of them a tent, or a
strongly thatched hut, to live in, and most of them had an Indian woman
or a negress to cook their food. Some of them had white wives, which
they bought at Jamaica for about thirty pounds apiece, or five pounds
more than the cost of a black woman. As a rule, they lived close to the
lips of the creeks, "for the benefit of the Sea-Breezes," in little
villages of twenty or thirty together. They slept in hammocks, or in
Indian cots, raised some three or four feet from the ground, to allow
for any sudden flood which the heavy rains might raise. They cooked
their food on a sort of barbecue strewn with earth. For chairs they used
logs of wood or stout rails supported on crutches. On the Saturday in
each week they left their saws and axes and tramped out into the woods
to kill beef for the following week. In the wet seasons, when the
savannahs were flooded, they hunted the cattle in canoas by rowing near
to the higher grass-lands where the beasts were at graze. Sometimes a
wounded steer would charge the canoa, and spill the huntsmen in the
water, where the alligators nipped them. In the dry months, the hunters
went on foot. When they killed a steer they cut the body into four,
flung away the bones, and cut a big hole in each quarter. Each of the
four men of the hunting party then thrust his head through the hole in
one of the quarters, and put "it on like a Frock," and so trudged home.
If the sun were hot, and the beef heavy, the wearer cut some off, and
flung it away. This weekly hunting was "a Diversion pleasant enough"
after the five days' hacking at the red wood near the lagoon-banks. The
meat, when brought to camp, was boucanned or jerked--that is, dried
crisp in the sun. A quarter of a steer a man was the week's meat
allowance. If a man wanted fish or game, in addition, he had to obtain
it for himself. This diet was supplemented by the local fruits, and by
stores purchased from the ships--such as dried pease, or flour to make
doughboys.
Men who worked hard under a tropical sun, in woods sometimes flooded to
a depth of two feet, could hardly be expected to take a pride in their
personal appearance. One little vanity they had, and apparently one
only--they were fond of perfumes. They used to kill the alligator for
his musk-sacs, which they thought "as good civet as any in the world."
Each logwood cutter carried a musk-sac in his hat to diffuse scent about
him, "sweet as Arabian winds when fruits are ripe," wheresoever his
business led him.
The logwood cutters usually formed into little companies of from four to
twelve men each. The actual "cutters" had less to do than the other
members, for they merely felled the trees. Others sawed and hacked the
tree trunks into logs. The boss, or chief man in the gang, then chipped
away the white sappy rind surrounding the scarlet heart with its
crystals of brilliant red. If the tree were very big (and some were six
feet round) they split the bole by gunpowder. The red hearts alone were
exported, as it is the scarlet crystal (which dries to a dull black
after cutting) which gives the wood its value in dyeing. When the timber
had been properly cut and trimmed it was dragged to the water's edge,
and stacked there ready for the merchants. The chips burnt very well,
"making a clear strong fire, and very lasting," in which the rovers used
to harden "the Steels of their Fire Arms when they were faulty."
When a ship arrived at One Bush Key the logwood cutters went aboard her
for rum and sugar. It was the custom for the ship's captain to give them
free drinks on the day of his arrival, "and every Man will pay honestly
for what he drinks afterwards." If the captain did not set the rum punch
flowing with sufficient liberality they would "pay him with their worst
Wood," and "commonly" they "had a stock of such" ready for the niggard
when he came. Often, indeed, they would give such a one a load of hollow
logs "filled with dirt in the middle, and both ends plugg'd up with a
piece of the same." But if the captain commanding were "true steel, an
old bold blade, one of the old buccaneers, a hearty brave toss-pot, a
trump, a true twopenny"--why, then, they would spend thirty or forty
pounds apiece in a drinking bout aboard his ship, "carousing and firing
of Guns three or four days together." They were a careless company,
concerned rather in "the squandering of life away" than in its
preservation. Drink and song, and the firing of guns, and a week's work
chipping blood-wood, and then another drunkenness, was the story of
their life there. Any "sober men" who came thither were soon "debauched"
by "the old Standards," and took to "Wickedness" and "careless Rioting."
Those who found the work too hard used to go hunting in the woods.
Often enough they marched to the woods in companies, to sack the Indian
villages, to bring away women for their solace, and men slaves to sell
at Jamaica. They also robbed the Indians' huts of honey, cocoa, and
maize, but then the Indians were "very melancholy and thoughtful" and
plainly designed by God as game for logwood cutters.
In the end the Spaniards fell upon the logwood men and carried them away
to Mexico and Vera Cruz, sending some to the silver mines, and selling
the others to tradesmen. As slaves they passed the next few years, till
they escaped to the coast. One of those who escaped told how he saw a
Captain Buckenham, once a famous man at those old drinking bouts, and
owner of a sugar ship, working as a slave in the city of Mexico. "He saw
Captain Buckenham, with a Log chained to his Leg, and a Basket at his
Back, crying Bread about the Streets for a Baker his Master."
In this society of logwood cutters Dampier served a brief
apprenticeship. He must have heard many strange tales, and jolly songs,
around the camp fires of his mates, but none of them, apparently, were
fit to print. He went hunting cattle, and got himself "bushed," or
marooned--that is, lost--and had a narrow escape from dying in the
woods. He helped at the cutting and trimming of the red wood, and at the
curing of the hides of the slaughtered steers. When ships arrived he
took his sup of rum, and fired his pistol, with the best of them. Had he
stayed there any length of time he would have become a master logwood
merchant, and so "gotten an Estate"; but luck was against him.
In June 1676, when he was recovering from a guinea-worm, a creature
which nests in one's ankle, and causes great torment, a storm, or
"South," reduced the logwood cutters of those parts to misery. The South
was "long foretold," by the coming in of many sea-birds to the shore's
shelter, but the lumbermen "believed it was a certain Token of the
Arrival of Ships," and took no precautions against tempest. Two days
later the wind broke upon them furiously, scattering their huts like
scraps of paper. The creek began to rise "faster than I ever saw it do
in the greatest Spring Tide," so that, by noon, the poor wretches,
huddled as they were in a hut, without fire, were fain to make ready a
canoa to save themselves from drowning. The trees in the woods were torn
up by the roots, "and tumbled down strangely across each other." The
ships in the creek were blown from their anchors. Two of them were
driven off to sea, dipping their bows clean under, and making shocking
weather of it. One of them was lost in the bay, being whelmed by a green
sea.
The storm destroyed all the tools and provisions of the lumbermen, and
left Dampier destitute. His illness, with the poisonous worm in his leg,
had kept him from work for some weeks, so that he had no cords of red
wood ready cut, "as the old Standards had," to buy him new tools and new
stores. Many of the men were in the same case, so they agreed with the
captains of two pirate ketches which called at the creek at that time,
to go a cruise to the west to seek their fortunes. They cruised up and
down the bay "and made many Descents into the country," "where we got
Indian Corn to eat with the Beef, and other Flesh, that we got by the
way." They also attacked Alvarado, a little, protected city on the river
of that name, but they lost heavily in the attack. Of the sixty pirates
engaged, ten or eleven were killed or desperately wounded. The fort was
not surrendered for four or five hours, by which time the citizens had
put their treasure into boats, and rowed it upstream to safety. It was
dark by the time the pirates won the fort, so that pursuit was out of
the question. They rested there that night, and spent the next day
foraging. They killed and salted a number of beeves, and routed out much
salt fish and Indian corn, "as much as we could stow away." They also
took a number of poultry, which the Spaniards were fattening in coops;
and nearly a hundred tame parrots, "yellow and red," which "would prate
very prettily." In short they heaped their decks with hen-coops,
parrot-cages, quarters of beef, casks of salt fish, and baskets full of
maize. In this state, the ships lay at anchor, with their men loafing on
deck with their tobacco, bidding the "yellow and red" parrots to say
"Damn," or "Pretty Polly," or other ribaldry. But before any parrot
could have lost his Spanish accent, the pirates were called from their
lessons by the sight of seven Spanish warships, under all sail, coming
up to the river-bar from La Vera Cruz. Their ports were up, and their
guns were run out, and they were not a mile away when the pirates first
saw them. As it happened, the River Alvarado was full of water, so that
these great vessels "could scarce stem the current." This piece of luck
saved the pirates, for it gave them time to make sail, and to clear the
bar before the Spaniards entered the river. As they dropped down the
stream, they hove the clutter from the decks. Many a Pretty Polly there
quenched her blasphemy in water, and many a lump of beef went to the mud
to gorge the alligators. The litter was all overboard, and the men
stripped to fight the guns, by the time the tide had swept them over the
bar. At this moment they came within range of the Spanish flagship, the
_Toro_, of ten guns and 100 men. She was to windward of them, and
perilously close aboard, and her guns sent some cannon-balls into them,
without doing any serious harm. Dampier was in the leading ship, which
stood to the eastward, followed by her consort, as soon as she was over
the bar. After her came the _Toro_, followed by a ship of four guns, and
by five smaller vessels manned with musketeers, "and the Vessels
barricadoed round with Bull-hides Breast high." The _Toro_ ranged up on
the quarter of Dampier's ship, "designing to board" her. The pirates
dragged their cannon aft, and fired at her repeatedly, "in hopes to have
lamed either Mast or Yard." As they failed to carry away her spars, they
waited till "she was shearing aboard," when they rammed the helm hard
up, "gave her a good Volley," and wore ship. As soon as she was round on
the other tack, she stood to the westward, passing down the Spanish line
under a heavy fire. The _Toro_ held to her course, after the second
pirate ship, with the six ships of the fleet following in her wake. The
second pirate ship was much galled by the fleet's fire, and ran great
risk of being taken. Dampier's ship held to the westward, till she was
about a mile to windward of the other ships. She then tacked, and ran
down to assist her consort, "who was hard put to it." As she ran down,
she opened fire on the _Toro_, "who fell off, and shook her ears,"
edging in to the shore, to escape, with her fleet after her. They made
no fight of it, but tacked and hauled to the wind "and stood away for
Alvarado." The pirates were very glad to see the last of them; "and we,
glad of the Deliverance, went away to the Eastward." On the way, they
visited all the sandy bays of the coast to look for "munjack," "a sort
of Pitch or Bitumen which we find in Lumps." When corrected with oil or
tallow this natural pitch served very well for the paying of the seams
"both of Ships and Canoas."
After this adventure, Dampier returned to the lumber camp, and passed
about a year there, cutting wood. Then, for some reason, he determined
to leave the Indies, and to visit England; and though he had planned to
return to Campeachy, after he had been home, he never did so. It seems
that he was afraid of living in that undefended place, among those
drunken mates of his. They were at all times at the mercy of a Spanish
man-of-war, and Dampier "always feared" that a Spanish prison would be
his lot if he stayed there. It was the lot of his imprudent mates, "the
old Standards," a few months after he had sailed for the Thames.
After a short stay in England, Dampier sailed for Jamaica, with a
general cargo. He sold his goods at Port Royal, but did not follow his
original plan of buying rum and sugar, and going west as a logwood
merchant. About Christmas 1679 he bought a small estate in Dorsetshire,
"of one whose Title to it" he was "well assured of." He was ready to
sail for England, to take charge of this estate, and to settle down as a
farmer, when he met "one Mr Hobby," at a tavern, who asked him to go "a
short trading voyage to the Country of the Moskito's." Dampier, who was
a little short of gold at the moment, was very willing to fill his purse
before sailing north. He therefore consented to go with Mr Hobby, whose
ship was then ready for the sea. He "went on board Mr Hobby," and a fair
wind blew them clear of Port Royal. A day or two of easy sailing brought
them to Negril Bay, "at the West End of Jamaica," where Dampier had
anchored before, when the valorous captain drained the punch-bowl. The
bay was full of shipping, for Captains Coxon, Sawkins, Sharp, and other
buccaneers, were lying there filling their water casks. They had the red
wheft flying, for they were bound on the account, to raid the Main. The
boats alongside them were full of meat and barrels. Mr Hobby's men did
not wait to learn more than the fact that the ships were going cruising.
They dumped their chests into the dinghy, and rowed aboard of them, and
'listed themselves among the sunburnt ruffians who were hoisting out the
water breakers. Dampier and Mr Hobby were left alone on their ship,
within hearing of the buccaneers, who sang, and danced to the fiddle,
and clinked the cannikin, till the moon had set. For three or four days
they stayed there, hearing the merriment of the rovers, but at the end
of the fourth day Dampier wearied of Mr Hobby, and joined the
buccaneers, who were glad to have him.
A day or two after Christmas 1679 they got their anchors and set sail.
They shaped their course for Porto Bello, which had recovered something
of its old wealth and beauty, in the years of peace it had enjoyed since
Morgan sacked it. They landed 200 men to the eastward of the town, "at
such a distance" that the march "occupied them three nights." During the
day they lay in ambush in the woods. As they "came to the town" a negro
saw them, and ran to set the bells ringing, to call out the troops. The
buccaneers followed him so closely that the town was theirs before the
troops could muster. They stayed there forty-eight hours gathering
plunder, and then marched back to their ships staggering under a great
weight of gold. They shared thirty or forty pounds a man from this raid.
Afterwards they harried the coast, east and west, and made many rich
captures. Sawkins, it seems, was particularly lucky, for he made a haul
of 1000 chests of indigo. Warrants were out for all these pirates, and
had they been taken they would most surely have been hanged.
After these adventures, the squadron made for "a place called Boco del
Toro," "an opening between two islands between Chagres and Veragua,"
where "the general rendezvous of the fleet" had been arranged. The ships
anchored here, with one or two new-comers, including a French ship
commanded by a Captain Bournano, who had been raiding on the isthmus,
"near the South Sea," but a few days before. At the council aboard
Captain Sawkins' ship, it was given out, to all the assembled
buccaneers, that the Spaniards had made peace with the Darien Indians.
This was bad news; but Captain Bournano was able to assure the company
"that since the conclusion of the said peace, they had been already
tried, and found very faithful"; for they had been of service to him in
his late foray. He added that they had offered to guide him "to a great
and very rich place called Tocamora," and that he had promised to come
to them "with more ships and men," in three months' time. The buccaneers
thought that Tocamora, apart from the beauty of the name, appeared to
promise gold, so they decided to go thither as soon as they had careened
and refitted. Boca del Toro, the anchorage in which they lay, was full
of "green tortoise" for ships short of food. There were handy creeks,
among the islands, for the ships to careen in, when their hulls were
foul. The pirates hauled their ships into the creeks, and there hove
them down, while their Moskito allies speared the tortoise, and the
manatee, along the coast, and afterwards salted the flesh for
sea-provision.
As soon as the squadron was ready, they mustered at Water Key, and set
sail for Golden Island, where they meant to hold a final council. On the
way to the eastward they put in at the Samballoes, or islands of San
Blas, to fill fresh water, and to buy fruit from the Indians. When the
anchors held, the Indians came aboard with fruit, venison, and native
cloth, to exchange for edged iron tools, and red and green beads. They
were tall men, smeared with black paint (the women used red, much as in
Europe), and each Indian's nose was hung with a plate of gold or silver.
Among the women were a few albinos, who were said to see better in the
dark than in the light. "These Indians misliked our design for
Tocamora," because the way thither was mountainous and barren and
certain to be uninhabited. A force going thither would be sure to starve
on the road, they said, but it would be an easy matter to march to
Panama, as Drake had marched. New Panama was already a rich city, so
that they would not "fail of making a good voyage by going thither."
This advice of the Indians impressed the buccaneers. They determined to
abandon the Tocamora project as too dangerous. Most of them were in
favour of going to sack Panama. But Captain Bournano, and Captain Row,
who commanded about a hundred Frenchmen between them, refused to take
their men on "a long march by land." Perhaps they remembered how Morgan
had treated the French buccaneers after his Panama raid, nine years
before. They therefore remained at anchor when the squadron parted
company. An Indian chief, Captain Andreas, came aboard the English
flagship. The bloody colours were hoisted, and a gun fired in farewell.
The English ships then loosed their top-sails and stood away for Golden
Island, to an anchorage they knew of, where a final muster could be
held. They dropped anchor there, "being in all seven sail," on 3rd April
1680.
Their strength at the Samballoes had been as follows:--
Tons Guns Men
Captain Coxon in a ship of 80 8 97
Captain Harris " 150 25 107
Captain Sawkins " 16 1 35
Captain Sharp " 25 2 40
Captain Cook " 35 0 43
Captain Alleston " 18 0 24
Captain Macket " 14 0 20
but of these 366 buccaneers a few had remained behind with the
Frenchmen.
While they lay at Golden Island, the Indians brought them word of "a
town called Santa Maria," on the Rio Santa Maria, near the Gulf of San
Miguel, on the Pacific coast. It was a garrison town, with four
companies of musketeers in its fort, for there were gold mines in the
hills behind it. The gold caravans went from it, once a month in the
dry seasons, to Panama. If the place failed to yield them a booty, the
buccaneers were determined to attack new Panama. Had they done so they
would probably have destroyed the place, for though the new city was
something stronger than the old, the garrison was in the interior
fighting the Indians. The design on Santa Maria was popular. On the
matter being put to the vote it was carried without protest. The
buccaneers passed the 4th of April in arranging details, and picking a
party to protect the ships during their absence. They arranged that
Captains Alleston and Macket, with about twenty-five or thirty seamen,
should remain in the anchorage as a ship's guard. The remainder of the
buccaneers, numbering 331 able-bodied men (seven of whom were French),
were to march with the colours the next morning.
On the 5th of April 1680, these 331 adventurers dropped across the
channel from Golden Island, and landed on the isthmus, somewhere near
Drake's old anchorage. Captain Bartholomew Sharp, of "the dangerous
voyage and bold assaults," came first, with some Indian guides, one of
whom helped the Captain, who was sick and faint with a fever. This
vanguard "had a red flag, with a bunch of white and green ribbons." The
second company, or main battle, was led by the admiral, Richard Sawkins,
who "had a red flag striped with yellow." The third and fourth
companies, which were under one captain (Captain Peter Harris), had two
green flags. The fifth and sixth companies, under Captain John Coxon,
"had each of them a red flag." A few of Alleston's and Macket's men
carried arms under Coxon in these companies. The rear-guard was led by
Captain Edmund Cook, "with red colours striped with yellow, with a hand
and sword for his device." "All or most" of the men who landed, "were
armed with a French fuzee" (or musket), a pistol and hanger, with two
pounds of powder and "proportionable bullet." Each of them carried a
scrip or satchel containing "three or four cakes of bread," or
doughboys, weighing half-a-pound apiece, with some modicum of turtle
flesh. "For drink the rivers afforded enough."
Among the men who went ashore in that company were William Dampier, the
author of the best books of voyages in the language; Lionel Wafer, the
chirurgeon of the party, who wrote a description of the isthmus; Mr
Basil Ringrose, who kept an intimate record of the foray; and Captain
Bartholomew Sharp, who also kept a journal, but whose writings are less
reliable than those of the other three. It is not often that three
historians of such supreme merit as Dampier, Wafer, and Ringrose, are
associated in a collaboration so charming, as a piratical raid. Wafer
had been a surgeon in Port Royal, but Edmund Cook had shown him the
delights of roving, and the cruise he had made to Cartagena had
confirmed him in that way of life. Basil Ringrose had but lately arrived
at the Indies, and it is not known what induced him to go buccaneering.
He was a good cartographer, and had as strong a bent towards the
description of natural phenomena, as Dampier had. He probably followed
the pirates in order to see the world, and to get some money, and to
extend his knowledge. Sharp had been a pirate for some years, and there
was a warrant out for him at Jamaica for his share in the sack of Porto
Bello. With Dampier's history the reader has been made acquainted.
The Indians, under Captain Andreas, led the buccaneers from the
landing-place "through a small skirt of wood," beyond which was a league
of sandy beach. "After that, we went two leagues directly up a woody
valley, where we saw here and there an old plantation, and had a very
good path to march in." By dusk they had arrived at a river-bank,
beneath which the water lay in pools, joined by trickles and little
runlets, which babbled over sun-bleached pebbles. They built themselves
huts in this place, about a great Indian hut which stood upon the
river-bank. They slept there that night, "having nothing but the cold
Earth for their Beds," in much discouragement "with the going back of
some of the Men." The buccaneers who had been some weeks at sea, were
not in marching trim, and it seems that the long day's tramp in the sun
had sickened many of them. While they rested in their lodges, an Indian
king, whom they called "Captain Antonio," came in to see them. He said
that he had sent word to one of his tributaries, farther to the south,
to prepare food and lodgings for the buccaneers "against their Arrival."
As for himself, he wished very much that he could come with them to lead
their guides, but unfortunately "his child lay very sick." However, it
comforted him to think that the child would be dead by the next day, at
latest, "and then he would most certainly follow and overtake" them. He
warned the company not to lie in the grass, "for fear of monstrous
adders"; and so bowed himself out of camp, and returned home. The kingly
prayers seem to have been effectual, for Captain Antonio was in camp
again by sunrise next morning, with no family tie to keep him from
marching.
As the men sluiced themselves in the river before taking to the road,
they noticed that the pebbles shone "with sparks of gold" when broken
across. They did not stay to wash the river-mud, for gold dust and
golden pellets, but fell in for the march, and climbed from dawn till
nearly dusk. They went over "a steep Mountain" which was parched and
burnt and waterless. Four of the buccaneers refused to go farther than
the foot of this hill, so they returned to the ships. The others, under
the guidance of Antonio, contrived to cross the mountain "to an Hollow
of Water," at which they drank very greedily. Six miles farther on they
halted for the night, beside a stream. They slept there, "under the
Canopy of Heaven," suffering much discomfort from some drenching
showers. After some days of climbing, wading, and suffering, the army
reached the house of King Golden Cap, an Indian king. The King came out
to meet them in his robes, with a little reed crown on his head, lined
with red silk, and covered with a thin plate of gold. He had a golden
ring in his nose, and a white cotton frock over his shoulders. His queen
wore a red blanket, and a blouse "like our old-fashioned striped
hangings." This royal couple bade the army welcome, and ordered food to
be brought for them. The buccaneers passed a couple of days in King
Golden Cap's city, trading their coloured beads, and scraps of iron, for
fresh fruit and meat. They found the Indians "very cunning" in
bargaining, which means, we suppose, that they thought a twopenny
whittle a poor return for a hog or a sack of maize.
When the men had rested themselves, and had dried their muddy clothes,
they set out again, with Captain Sawkins in the vanguard. As they
marched out of the town "the King ordered us each man to have three
plantains, with sugar-canes to suck, by way of a present." They
breakfasted on these fruits, as they marched. The road led them "along a
very bad Path" continually intersected by a river, which they had to
wade some fifty or sixty times, to their great misery. They passed a few
Indian huts on the way, and at each hut door stood an Indian to give "as
we passed by, to every one of us, a ripe plantain, or some sweet
cassava-root." Some of the Indians counted the army "by dropping a grain
of corn for each man that passed before them," for without counters they
could not reckon beyond twenty. The army had by this time been swelled
by an Indian contingent, of about 150 men, "armed with Bows, Arrows and
Lances." The Indians dropping their corn grains must have dropped
nearly 500 before the last man passed them. That night, which was clear
and fine, they rested in three large Indian huts, where King Golden
Cap's men had stored up food and drink, and a number of canoas, for the
voyage south. The river went brawling past their bivouac at a little
distance, and some of the men caught fish, and broiled them in the coals
for their suppers.
At daylight next morning, while they were getting the canoas to the
water, Captain Coxon had "some Words" with Captain Harris (of the green
flags). The words ran into oaths, for the two men were surly with the
discomforts of turning out. Coxon whipped up a gun and fired at Peter
Harris, "which he was [naturally] ready to return." Sharp knocked his
gun up before he could fire, "and brought him to be quiet; so that we
proceeded on our Journey." They had no further opportunities for
fighting, for Sawkins gave the word a moment later for seventy of the
buccaneers to embark in the canoas. There were fourteen of these boats,
all of them of small size. Sharp, Coxon, and Cook were placed in charge
of them. Captain Harris was told off to travel with the land party, with
Sawkins, King Golden Cap, and the other men. Don Andreas, with
twenty-eight other Indians (two to a canoa) acted as boatmen, or pilots,
to the flotilla.
Basil Ringrose, who was one of the boat party, has told us of the
miseries of the "glide down the stream." The river was low, and full of
rotting tree trunks, so that "at the distance of almost every stone's
cast," they had to leave the boats "and haul them over either sands or
rocks, and at other times over trees." Sharp, who was of tougher fibre,
merely says that they "paddled all Day down the Falls and Currents of
the River, and at Night took up our Quarters upon a Green Bank by the
Riverside, where we had Wild Fowl and Plantanes for Supper: But our Beds
were made upon the cold Earth, and our Coverings were the Heavens, and
green Trees we found there." The next day they went downstream again,
over many more snags and shallows, which set them wading in the mud till
their boots rotted off their feet. Ringrose was too tired to make a note
in his journal, save that, that night, "a tiger" came out and looked at
them as they sat round the camp fires. Sharp says that the labour "was a
Pleasure," because "of that great Unity there was then amongst us," and
because the men were eager "to see the fair South Sea." They lodged that
night "upon a green Bank of the River," and ate "a good sort of a Wild
Beast like unto our English Hog." The third day, according to Ringrose,
was the worst day of all. The river was as full of snags as it had been
higher up, but the last reach of it was clear water, so that they gained
the rendezvous "about Four in the Afternoon." To their very great alarm
they found that the land party had not arrived. They at once suspected
that the Indians had set upon them treacherously, and cut them off in
the woods. But Don Andreas sent out scouts "in Search of them," who
returned "about an Hour before Sun-set," with "some of their Number,"
and a message that the rest would join company in the morning.
A little after daybreak the land force marched in, and pitched their
huts near the river, "at a beachy point of land," perhaps the very one
where Oxenham's pinnace had been beached. They passed the whole day
there resting, and cleaning weapons, for they were now but "a Day and a
Night's Journey" from the town they had planned to attack. Many more
Indians joined them at this last camp of theirs, so that the army had
little difficulty in obtaining enough canoas to carry them to Santa
Maria. They set out early the next morning, in sixty-eight canoas, being
in all "327 of us Englishmen, and 50 Indians." Until that day the canoas
had been "poled" as a punt is poled, but now they cut oars and paddles
"to make what speed we could." All that day they rowed, and late into
the night, rowing "with all haste imaginable," and snapping up one or
two passing Indian boats which were laden with plantains. It was after
midnight, and about "Two Hours before Day Light," when they ran into a
mud bank, about a mile from the town, and stepped ashore, upon a
causeway of oars and paddles. They had to cut themselves a path through
jungle, as soon as they had crossed the mud, for the town was walled
about with tropical forest. They "lay still in the Woods, till the Light
appeared," when they "heard the Spaniard discharge his Watch at his Fort
by Beat of Drum, and a Volley of Shot." It was the Spanish way of
changing guard, at daybreak. It was also the signal for the "Forlorn" of
the buccaneers to march to the battle, under Sawkins. This company
consisted of seventy buccaneers. As they debouched from the forest, upon
open ground, the Spaniards caught sight of them and beat to arms. The
men in the fort at once opened fire "very briskly," but the
advance-guard ran in upon them, tore down some of the stockade, and
"entered the fort incontinently." A moment or two of wild firing passed
inside the palisades, and then the Spanish colours were dowsed. The
buccaneers in this storm lost two men wounded, of the fifty who
attacked. The Spanish loss was twenty-six killed, and sixteen wounded,
out of 300 under arms. About fifty more, of the Spanish prisoners, were
promptly killed by the Indians, who took them into the woods and stabbed
them "to death" with their lances. It seems that one of that garrison, a
man named Josef Gabriele, had raped King Golden Cap's daughter who was
then with child by him. (Gabriele, as it chanced, was not speared, but
saved to pilot the pirates to Panama.) This was the sole action of the
Indians in that engagement. During the battle they lay "in a small
hollow," "in great consternation" at "the noise of the guns."
Though the buccaneers had taken the place easily, they had little cause
for rejoicing. The town was "a little pitiful Place," with a few
thatched huts, or "wild houses made of Cane," and "but one Church in
it." The fort "was only Stockadoes," designed merely as a frontier post
"to keep in subjection the Indians" or as a lodging for men employed in
the gold mines. There was no more provision in store there than would
serve their turn for a week. As for the gold, they had missed it by
three days. Three hundredweight of gold had been sent to Panama while
they were struggling downstream. News of their coming had been brought
to the fort in time, and "all their treasure of gold," "that huge booty
of gold" they had expected to win, had been shipped westward. Nor had
they any prisoners to hold to ransom. The Governor, the town priest, and
the chief citizens, had slipped out of the town in boats, and were now
some miles away. Richard Sawkins manned a canoa, and went in chase of
them, but they got clear off, to give advice to Panama that pirates were
come across the isthmus. The only pillage they could find, after
torturing their prisoners "severely," amounted to "twenty pounds' weight
of gold, and a small quantity of silver." To this may be added a few
personal belongings, such as weapons or trinkets, from the chests of the
garrison.
When the booty, such as it was, had been gathered, the captains held a
meeting "to discuss what were best to be done." Some were for going to
the South Sea, to cruise; but John Coxon, who had taken Porto Bello, and
hated to be second to Sawkins, was for going back to the ships. The
general vote was for going to Panama, "that city being the receptacle of
all the plate, jewels, and gold that is dug out of the mines of all
Potosi and Peru." However, they could not venture on Panama without
Coxon, and Coxon's company; so they made Coxon their admiral, "Coxon
seeming to be well satisfied." Before starting, they sent their booty
back to Golden Island, under a guard of twelve men. Most of the Indians
fell off at this time, for they had "got from us what knives, scissors,
axes, needles and beads they could." Old King Golden Cap, and his son,
were less mercenary, and stayed with the colours, being "resolved to go
to Panama, out of the desire they had to see that place taken and
sacked." They may have followed the buccaneers in order to kill the
Spaniard who had raped the princess, for that worthy was still alive,
under guard. He had promised to lead the pirates "even to the very
bed-chamber door of the governor of Panama."
With the vision of this bed-chamber door before them, the pirates
embarked at Santa Maria "in thirty-five canoes" and a ship they had
found at anchor in the river. As they "sailed, or rather rowed"
downstream, with the ebb, the Spanish prisoners prayed to be taken
aboard, lest the Indians should take them and torture them all to death.
"We had much ado to find a sufficient number of boats for ourselves,"
says Ringrose, for the Indians had carried many of the canoas away. Yet
the terror of their situation so wrought upon the Spaniards that they
climbed on to logs, or crude rafts, or into old canoas, "and by that
means shifted so ... as to come along with us." The island Chepillo, off
the mouth of the Cheapo River, had been named as the general rendezvous,
but most of the buccaneers were to spend several miserable days before
they anchored there. One canoa containing ten Frenchmen, was capsized,
to the great peril of the Frenchmen, who lost all their weapons.
Ringrose was separated from the company, drenched to the skin, half
starved, and very nearly lynched by some Spaniards. His 19th of April
was sufficiently stirring to have tired him of going a-roving till his
death. He put out "wet and cold," at dawn; was shipwrecked at ten; saved
the lives of five Spaniards at noon; "took a survey," or drew a sketch
of the coast, an hour later; set sail again by four, was taken by the
Spaniards and condemned to death at nine; was pardoned at ten; sent away
"in God's name," "vaya ustad con Dios," at eleven; and was at sea again
"wet and cold," by midnight. Sharp's party was the most fortunate, for
as they entered the bay of Panama they came to an island "a very
pleasant green Place," off which a barque of thirty tons came to anchor,
"not long before it was dark." The island had a high hummock of land
upon it with a little hut, and a stack for a bonfire, at the top. A
watchman, an old man, lived in this hut, looking out over the sea for
pirates, with orders to fire his beacon, to warn the men on the Main if
a strange sail appeared. The pirates caught this watchman before the
fire was lit. They learned from him that those at Panama had not yet
heard of their coming. Shortly after they had captured the watchman, the
little barque aforesaid, came to anchor, and furled her sails. Two of
Sharp's canoas crept out, "under the shore," and laid her aboard "just
as it began to be duskish." She proved to be a Panama boat, in use as a
troop transport. She had just landed some soldiers on the Main, to quell
some Indians, who had been raiding on the frontier. Her crew were
negroes, Indians, and mulattoes. Most of the buccaneers, especially
those in the small canoas, "endeavoured to get into" this ship, to
stretch their legs, and to have the advantage of a shelter. More than
130 contrived to stow themselves in her 'tween decks, under "that
sea-artist, and valiant commander" (the words are probably his own)
"Captain Bartholomew Sharp." They put to sea in her the next day,
followed by the canoas. During the morning they took another small
barque, in which Captain Harris placed thirty men, and hoisted the green
flag. The wind fell calm after the skirmish, but the canoas rowed on to
Chepillo, to the rendezvous, where they found provisions such as "two
fat hogs," and some plantains, and a spring of water.
A little after dawn, on the day following, while the ships were trying
to make the anchorage, Captain Coxon, and Captain Sawkins, rowed out
from Chepillo to board a barque which was going past the island under a
press of sail. The wind was so light that the canoas overhauled her, but
before they could hook to her chains "a young breeze, freshening at that
instant," swept her clear of danger. Her men fired a volley into Coxon's
boat, which the pirates returned. "They had for their Breakfast a small
fight," says Sharp. One of the pirates--a Mr Bull--was killed with an
iron slug. The Spaniards got clear away without any loss, "for the Wind
blew both fresh and fair" for them. Three or four pirates were grazed
with shot, and some bullets went through the canoas. The worst of the
matter was that the Spaniards got safely to Panama, "to give
intelligence of our coming."
As they could no longer hope to take the city by surprise, "while the
Governor was in his bed-chamber," they determined to give the citizens
as little time for preparation as was possible. They were still twenty
miles from Panama, but the canoas could pass those twenty miles in a few
hours' easy rowing. They set out at four o'clock in the evening, after
they had delivered their Spanish prisoners "for certain reasons" (which
Ringrose "could not dive into") into the hands of the Indians. This act
of barbarity was accompanied with the order that the Indians were "to
fight, or rather to murder and slay the said prisoners upon the shore,
and that in view of the whole fleet." However, the Spaniards rushed the
Indians, broke through them, and got away to the woods with the loss of
but one soldier.
After they had watched the scuffle, the pirates rowed away merrily
towards Panama, "though many showers of rain ceased not to fall."
Sharp's vessel, with her crew of more than 130 men, made off for the
Pearl Islands, ostensibly to fill fresh water, but really, no doubt, to
rob the pearl fisheries. He found a woman (who was "very young and
handsome"), and "a Case or two of Wines," at these islands, together
with some poultry. He made a feast there, and stayed at anchor that
night, and did not set sail again till noon of the day following, by
which time the battle of Panama had been fought and won.
_Authorities._--Dampier's Voyages. Wafer's Voyages. Ringrose's
Journal. "The Dangerous Voyage and Bold Assaults of Captain
Bartholomew Sharp"; "The Voyages and Adventures of Captain
Bartholomew Sharp" (four or five different editions). Ringrose's
MSS., Sharp's MSS., in the Sloane MSS.