A Just Reward
When L'Olonnois and his buccaneers entered the town of Gibraltar they
found that the greater part of the inhabitants had fled, but there were
many people left, and these were made prisoners as fast as they were
discovered. They were all forced to go into the great church, and then
the pirates, fearing that the Spaniards outside of the town might be
reënforced and come back again to attack them, carried a number of
cannon into the church and fortified the building. When this had been
done, they felt safe and began to act as if they had been a menagerie of
wild beasts let loose upon a body of defenceless men, women, and
children. Not only did these wretched men rush into the houses, stealing
everything valuable they could find and were able to carry away, but
when they had gathered together all they could discover they tortured
their poor prisoners by every cruel method they could think of, in order
to make them tell where more treasures were concealed. Many of these
unfortunates had had nothing to hide, and therefore could give no
information to their brutal inquisitors, and others died without telling
what they had done with their valuables. When the town had been
thoroughly searched and sifted, the pirates sent men out into the little
villages and plantations in the country, and even hunters and small
farmers were captured and made to give up everything they possessed
which was worth taking.
For nearly three weeks these outrageous proceedings continued, and to
prove that they were lower than the brute beasts they allowed the
greater number of the prisoners collected in the church, to perish of
hunger. There were not provisions enough in the town for the pirates'
own uses and for these miserable creatures also, and so, with the
exception of a small quantity of mule flesh, which many of the prisoners
could not eat, they got nothing whatever, and slowly starved.
When L'Olonnois and his friends had been in possession of Gibraltar for
about a month, they thought it was time to leave, but their greedy souls
were not satisfied with the booty they had already obtained, and they
therefore sent messages to the Spaniards who were still concealed in the
forests, that unless in the course of two days a ransom of ten thousand
pieces of eight were paid to them, they would burn the town to the
ground. No matter what they thought of this heartless demand, it was
not easy for the scattered citizens to collect such a sum as this, and
the two days passed without the payment of the ransom, and the
relentless pirates promptly carried out their threat and set the town on
fire in various places. When the poor Spaniards saw this and perceived
that they were about to lose even their homes, they sent to the town and
promised that if the pirates would put out the fires they would pay the
money. In the hope of more money, and not in the least moved by any
feeling of kindness, L'Olonnois ordered his men to help put out the
fires, but they were not extinguished until a quarter of the town was
entirely burned and a fine church reduced to ashes.
When the buccaneers found they could squeeze nothing more out of the
town, they went on board their ships, carrying with them all the plunder
and booty they had collected, and among their spoils were about five
hundred slaves, of all ages and both sexes, who had been offered an
opportunity to ransom themselves, but who, of course, had no money with
which to buy their freedom, and who were now condemned to a captivity
worse than anything they had ever known before.
Now the eight ships with their demon crews sailed away over the lake
toward Maracaibo. It was quite possible for them to get out to sea
without revisiting this unfortunate town, but as this would have been a
very good thing for them to do, it was impossible for them to do it; no
chance to do anything wicked was ever missed by these pirates.
Consequently L'Olonnois gave orders to drop anchor near the city, and
then he sent some messengers ashore to inform the already half-ruined
citizens that unless they sent him thirty thousand pieces of eight he
would enter their town again, carry away everything they had left, and
burn the place to the ground. The poor citizens sent a committee to
confer with the pirates, and while the negotiations were going on some
of the conscienceless buccaneers went on shore and carried off from one
of the great churches its images, pictures, and even its bells. It was
at last arranged that the citizens should pay twenty thousand pieces of
eight, which was the utmost sum they could possibly raise, and, in
addition to this, five hundred head of beef-cattle, and the pirates
promised that if this were done they would depart and molest the town no
more. The money was paid, the cattle were put on board the ships, and to
the unspeakable relief of the citizens, the pirate fleet sailed away
from the harbor.
But it would be difficult to express the horror and dismay of those same
citizens when, three days afterward, those pirate ships all came back
again. Black despair now fell upon the town; there was nothing more to
be stolen, and these wretches must have repented that they had left the
town standing, and had returned to burn it down. But when one man came
ashore in a boat bringing the intelligence that L'Olonnois could not get
his largest ship across a bar at the entrance to the lake, and that he
wanted a pilot to show him the channel, then the spirits of the people
went up like one great united rocket, bursting into the most beautiful
coruscations of sparks and colors. There was nothing on earth that they
would be so glad to furnish him as a pilot to show him how to sail away
from their shores. The pilot was instantly sent to the fleet, and
L'Olonnois and his devastating band departed.
They did not go directly to Tortuga, but stopped at a little island near
Hispaniola, which was inhabited by French buccaneers, and this delay was
made entirely for the purpose of dividing the booty. It seems strange
that any principle of right and justice should have been regarded by
these dishonest knaves, even in their relations to each other, but they
had rigid rules in regard to the division of their spoils, and according
to these curious regulations the whole amount of plunder was apportioned
among the officers and crews of the different ships.
Before the regular allotment of shares was made, the claims of the
wounded were fully satisfied according to their established code. For
the loss of a right arm a man was paid about six hundred dollars or six
slaves; for the loss of a left arm, five hundred dollars, or five
slaves; for a missing right leg, five hundred dollars, or five slaves;
for a missing left leg, four hundred dollars, or four slaves; for an eye
or a finger, one hundred dollars, or one slave. Then the rest of the
money and spoils were divided among all the buccaneers without reference
to what had been paid to the wounded. The shares of those who had been
killed were given to friends or acquaintances, who undertook to deliver
them to their families.
The spoils in this case consisted of two hundred and sixty thousand
dollars in money and a great quantity of valuable goods, besides many
slaves and precious stones and jewels. These latter were apportioned
among the men in the most ridiculous manner, the pirates having no idea
of the relative value of the jewels, some of them preferring large and
worthless colored stones to smaller diamonds and rubies. When all their
wickedly gained property had been divided, the pirates sailed to
Tortuga, where they proceeded, without loss of time, to get rid of the
wealth they had amassed. They ate, they drank, they gambled; they
crowded the taverns as taverns have never been crowded before; they sold
their valuable merchandise for a twentieth part of its value to some of
the more level-headed people of the place; and having rioted, gambled,
and committed every sort of extravagance for about three weeks, the
majority of L'Olonnois' rascally crew found themselves as poor as when
they had started off on their expedition. It took them almost as long to
divide their spoils as it did to get rid of them.
As these precious rascals had now nothing to live upon, it was necessary
to start out again and commit some more acts of robbery and ruin; and
L'Olonnois, whose rapacious mind seems to have been filled with a desire
for town-destroying, projected an expedition to Nicaragua, where he
proposed to pillage and devastate as many towns and villages as
possible. His reputation as a successful commander was now so high that
he had no trouble in getting men, for more offered themselves than he
could possibly take.
He departed with seven hundred men and six ships, stopping on the way
near the coast of Cuba, and robbing some poor fishermen of their boats,
which he would need in shallow water. Their voyage was a very long one,
and they were beset by calms, and instead of reaching Nicaragua, they
drifted into the Gulf of Honduras. Here they found themselves nearly out
of provisions, and were obliged to land and scour the country to find
something to eat. Leaving their ships, they began a land march through
the unfortunate region where they now found themselves. They robbed
Indians, they robbed villages; they devastated little towns, taking
everything that they cared for, and burning what they did not want, and
treating the people they captured with viler cruelties than any in which
the buccaneers had yet indulged. Their great object was to take
everything they could find, and then try to make the people confess
where other things were hidden. Men and women were hacked to pieces with
swords; it was L'Olonnois' pleasure, when a poor victim had nothing to
tell, to tear out his tongue with his own hands, and it is said that on
some occasions his fury was so great that he would cut out the heart of
a man and bite at it with his great teeth. No more dreadful miseries
could be conceived than those inflicted upon the peaceful inhabitants of
the country through which these wretches passed. They frequently met
ambuscades of Spaniards, who endeavored to stop their progress; but this
was impossible. The pirates were too strong in number and too savage in
disposition to be resisted by ordinary Christians, and they kept on
their wicked way.
At last they reached a town called San Pedro, which was fairly well
defended, having around it a great hedge of prickly thorns; but thorns
cannot keep out pirates, and after a severe fight the citizens
surrendered, on condition that they should have two hours' truce. This
was given, and the time was occupied by the people in running away into
the woods and carrying off their valuables. But when the two hours had
expired, L'Olonnois and his men entered the town, and instead of
rummaging around to see what they could find, they followed the
unfortunate people into the woods, for they well understood what they
wanted when they asked for a truce, and robbed them of nearly everything
they had taken away.
But the capture of this town was not of much service to L'Olonnois, who
did not find provisions enough to feed his men. Their supplies ran very
low, and it was not long before they were in danger of starvation.
Consequently they made their way by the most direct course to the coast,
where they hoped to be able to get something to eat. If they could find
nothing else, they might at least catch fish. On their way every rascal
of them prepared himself a net, made out of the fibres of a certain
plant, which grew in abundance in those regions, in order that he might
catch himself a supper when he reached the sea.
After a time the buccaneers got back to their fleet and remained on the
coast about three months, waiting for some expected Spanish ships, which
they hoped to capture. They eventually met with one, and after a great
deal of ordinary fighting and stratagem they boarded and took her, but
found her not a very valuable prize.
Now L'Olonnois proposed to his men that they should sail for Guatemala,
but he met with an unexpected obstacle; the buccaneers who had enlisted
under him had expected to make great fortunes in this expedition, but
their high hopes had not been realized. They had had very little booty
and very little food, they were hungry and disappointed and wanted to go
home, and the great majority of them declined to follow L'Olonnois any
farther. But there were some who declared that they would rather die
than go home to Tortuga as poor as when they left it, and so remained
with L'Olonnois on the biggest ship of the fleet, which he commanded.
The smaller vessels now departed for Tortuga, and after some trouble
L'Olonnois succeeded in getting his vessel out of the harbor where it
had been anchored, and sailed for the islands of de las Pertas. Here he
had the misfortune to run his big vessel hopelessly aground.
When they found it absolutely impossible to get their great vessel off
the sand banks, the pirates set to work to break her up and build a boat
out of her planks. This was a serious undertaking, but it was all they
could do. They could not swim away, and their ship was of no use to them
as she was. But when they began to work they had no idea it would take
so long to build a boat. It was several months before the unwieldy craft
was finished, and they occupied part of the time in gardening, planting
French beans, which came to maturity in six weeks, and gave them some
fresh vegetables. They also had some stores and portable stoves on board
their dismantled ship, and made bread from some wheat which was among
their provisions, thus managing to live very well.
L'Olonnois was never intended by nature to be a boat-builder, or
anything else that was useful and honest, and when the boat was finished
it was discovered that it had been planned so badly that it would not
hold them all, so all they could do was to draw lots to see who should
embark in her, for one-half of them would have to stay until the others
came back to release them. Of course L'Olonnois went away in the boat,
and reached the mouth of the Nicaragua River. There his party was
attacked by some Spaniards and Indians, who killed more than half of
them and prevented the others from landing. L'Olonnois and the rest of
his men got safely away, and they might now have sailed back to the
island where they had left their comrades, for there was room enough for
them all in the boat. But they did nothing of the sort, but went to the
coast of Cartagena.
The pirates left on the island were eventually taken off by a
buccaneering vessel, but L'Olonnois had now reached the end of the
string by which the devil had allowed him to gambol on this earth for so
long a time. On the shores where he had now landed he did not find
prosperous villages, treasure houses, and peaceful inhabitants, who
could be robbed and tortured, but instead of these he came upon a
community of Indians, who were called by the Spaniards, Bravos, or wild
men. These people would never have anything to do with the whites. It
was impossible to conquer them or to pacify them by kind treatment. They
hated the white man and would have nothing to do with him. They had
heard of L'Olonnois and his buccaneers, and when they found this
notorious pirate upon their shores they were filled with a fury such as
they had never felt for any others of his race.
These bloody pirates had always conquered in their desperate fights
because they were so reckless and so savage, but now they had fallen
among thoroughbred savages, more cruel and more brutal and pitiless than
themselves. Nearly all the buccaneers were killed, and L'Olonnois was
taken prisoner. His furious captors tore his living body apart, piece by
piece, and threw each fragment into the fire, and when the whole of this
most inhuman of inhuman men had been entirely consumed, they scattered
his ashes to the winds so that not a trace should remain on earth of
this monster. If, in his infancy, he had died of croup, the history of
the human race would have lost some of its blackest pages.