was named Guanahani. The Spaniards renamed it San Salvador--its present
name. It is one of the group known as the Bahamas, at the entrance of
the Gulf of Mexico.
The natives themselves, when they saw the strange ships coming towards
the island, fled, not knowing what they might be, for never had they
seen anything like them. As they were not pursued, however, they
plucked up enough courage to come back, and very soon were making
friends with the new-comers, who, thinking they were on one of the
islands off the coast of India, called the natives Indians--the name
still borne by the aborigines of the New World.
Almost every one of the natives was bedecked with ornaments made
of gold; and the Spaniards were eager to find out whence the metal
came. The natives told them by signs that it came from the south--far
away; and the three vessels were presently ploughing the seas again,
exploring the coast of San Salvador, by the aid of several guides.
Other islands were seen in the neighbourhood, and these, too, were
explored, Columbus believing that they tallied with Marco Polo’s
description of certain islands lying off China. But no trace of gold
was found; each time the natives pointed them to the south, and
referred to a great king, whom Columbus imagined to be the Great Khan.
Then one day he gathered that near at hand was a great island called
Cuba, and from the description given him believed it to be Cipango
(Japan), which reports had credited with vast riches--gold and precious
stones. So to Cuba the three ships sailed, reaching the island at the
end of October, and taking possession of it in the name of the King of
Spain.
Here the natives, after a time, received him kindly, and the answers
to the sign-questions he put to them made him more convinced than ever
that this was Cipango. He therefore searched it, seeking for the Great
Khan; but at last gave up in despair, and sailed off to discover other
islands. At this time Martin Pinzon, in the _Pinta_, deserted him, and,
although Columbus waited many days for his return, he did not come
back; and when, in December, Columbus set sail, he went with only two
ships. On December 6 they sighted a large island, which, because of its
beauty and similarity with Spain, they named Hispaniola. Here, again
the natives were friendly, and parted with many of their gold ornaments
in exchange for little trinkets the mariners had brought with them.
What filled them with joy that they could hardly contain was the news
that the island abounded in riches. Gold, they were told, was to be
obtained in plenty; and Columbus, who had taken the island in the name
of Spain, resolved, when misfortune robbed him of another of his ships,
to leave some of his men behind to learn the language of the natives,
trade with them for gold, and explore the island for gold mines.
The disaster, which left him with only one ship, occurred through
negligence. The _Santa Maria_ was wrecked, and Columbus and his crew
only escaped with great difficulty. By hard work they managed to get
all the goods and guns out of her before she went to pieces, and
with the latter Columbus built a fort for the security of the men he
intended to leave behind, calling it La Navidad.
Then, on January 4, 1493, Columbus set sail from Hispaniola in the
smallest of the vessels he had come out with, namely, the _Nina_,
steering eastward along the coast. Presently he fell in with Pinzon,
whom he reproved for his desertion. Pinzon asserted that he had been
separated in a storm, but actually he had left Columbus, intending
to return home and claim the honours that were due to his leader.
Columbus, however, rather than have bitterness aroused, hid his anger,
and the two ships sailed in company until February 1, when a terrific
gale separated them again.
So dreadful was the storm that Columbus despaired of ever reaching
home with his wonderful news; and many were the vows taken as to what
the mariners would do if Heaven spared them. Lots were cast as to who
should undertake a pilgrimage to Our Lady of Guadalope, and it fell to
Columbus. But the storm still held on. Then they all vowed to go in
their shirts to a church of Our Lady, if she would vouchsafe them a
safe voyage home.
The poor _Nina_, tossed about, seemed as though she would turn over
at every big wave that broke upon her; all her provision casks were
empty, and so she was in a poor way through lack of ballast. Columbus
solved that problem by filling the casks with water, which steadied
the ship, and enabled her to ride out the storm, during which Columbus
had been afraid lest he should never reach Spain with the wonderful
news of his discovery. He therefore wrote down an account on parchment,
which he signed and sealed, wrapped in oilcloth and wax, and consigned
to the deep in a cask. Another copy was packed in a similar way, and
set upon the top of the poop, so that if the _Nina_ went down the cask
might float and stand a chance of carrying its precious contents to
some port, or be picked up by some ship. But, fortunately, the storm
eased off, and presently they reached harbour at St. Mary’s, one of the
Azores.
The mariners, exhausted after their struggle with the storm, but
grateful for having been able to come through it, saw a hermitage on a
hill, and resolved that some of them should undertake a pilgrimage of
thanks at once. So half the ship’s crew went ashore in their shirts,
carrying candles; but hardly had they landed when the Portuguese
Governor of St. Mary’s came down with a large body of soldiers and took
them prisoners. The Portuguese were jealous of the great sailor, and
what he had achieved.
Columbus was angry at this treachery. He vowed that if his men were not
given back to him, he would land the rest and sack the whole island.
The Governor gave in.
Leaving these inhospitable shores, the mariners sailed away for home,
only to meet with another storm which caused them to make more vows.
Then the sailors worked hard, and managed to get the ship running
before the storm, which drove her into the Tagus.
Forced to take shelter in another Portuguese port, therefore, this time
Lisbon, Columbus went ashore, where the King of Portugal received him
with many expressions of delight and congratulation, though beneath
the smiling face was a jealous heart. Portugal had taken so great a
part--had been the pioneer, in fact--of the exploration of the century,
that the king felt that this accomplishment of Columbus was a personal
affront! His counsellors advised him that the best thing to do was to
kill Columbus and his men out of hand, and, taking his charts, send an
expedition out to take possession of the new lands.
King John, however, would not consent to the murder of Columbus, whom
he dismissed; and then ordered his own mariners to hurry off with an
expedition to take by force of arms the lands which had been discovered
for Spain. It may be said that when the question of ownership of these
lands was laid before the Pope of Rome, that arbiter of the fate of
people and nations in the fifteenth century, the Portuguese were made
to understand that Spain had the prior claim on the new territory.
It was on March 15 that Columbus arrived at Palos, less than eight
months after he had set out from that port on a voyage from which few
ever believed he would return. And now, here he was! Great crowds met
him and hailed him, and marched in procession with him to the church,
where he gave thanks to Heaven for the success of his voyage. Then, he
sent a letter to the king, who commanded him to attend Court, where
he was received with all due honour, and told his wonderful story
which thrilled the king and queen, and soon set all Spain by the ears.
He had brought many evidences of the truth of his tale, including
several natives and many gold ornaments; and according to the terms
of the engagement entered into, he was appointed Governor-General of
all the lands discovered. Then, still believing that he had found the
way to the East, he went out again on September 25, 1493, discovering
new islands, and going to Hispaniola, which he found was rich with
gold. His fort had been destroyed, however, and his men killed by the
natives. With his adventures during this voyage we have no time to
deal. There was dissatisfaction amongst some of his followers, and
accusations were made against him which necessitated his going back to
Spain to clear himself, which he succeeded in doing. In 1498 he was
allowed to go out again, and it was on this voyage that he discovered
the mainland of America, although he never knew it. First he landed on
an island which he called Trinidad (its present name), in honour of the
Holy Trinity, and from there he could see land, which, believing it to
be an island, he called Isla Santa (Holy Island). It was, as a matter
of fact, the mainland of America. He went down the coast as far as
Grenada, and began to think that the length of it pointed to the fact
that it was more than an island: that it must be the mainland of Asia.
Passing over the trials of Columbus which followed upon the accusations
made against him at Court, we must go on to a brief résumé of his
fourth and last voyage. On this, which started from Cadiz in May,
1502, he went seeking a strait by which he could get farther east. He
reached Honduras, then later, Veragua and Nicaragua, the farthest point
reached being El Retrete, when he sailed for Veragua again, thence to
Hispaniola. Many troubles beset him. Jealous followers brought him
sorrows; disorders at Hispaniola brought him displeasure at Court,
and he sailed for home, reaching Spain in November, 1504, to die two
years later in neglect; “no local annals mention even his death.” And
he, the greatest mariner who had ever lived, the man who had brought
to Spain--although no one realised it then--a New World, with all its
treasures.
SOME EARLY BUCCANEERS
The Beginning of Buccaneering
The buccaneers were educated in a hard school. From being peaceful
hunters in the woods of Hispaniola they developed into hunters on the
seas, seeking more valuable game than oxen. They took up this new
profession from a sense of being ill-treated, and primarily with the
object of obtaining vengeance.
In the early part of the seventeenth century there were on the island
of Hispaniola a number of Frenchmen who lived by buccaneering--a word
derived from the Indian word _boucan_, meaning, first, the hut in which
the flesh of oxen was smoked, and, secondly, the wooden frame on which
the meat was dried. Eventually the hunters themselves received the
name of buccaneers, from which it will be seen that there was nothing
sinister in the name or profession at the outset. In course of time
larger numbers of Frenchmen gathered at Hispaniola to follow the wild
industry, and the Spanish rulers of the island came to the conclusion
that they would rid Hispaniola of them.
The buccaneers at the best were not an inviting-looking crowd, nor
were they the most gentle of men. Their mode of life made them rough
and wild, and their attire gave them an appearance of ruffianism. Long
blouses or shirts, covered with grease and blood-stains, and held
in at the waist by strips of green hide; short drawers that reached
only half-way down the thigh, sandals of hog’s skin or bull’s hide;
short guns, called “buccaneering-pieces,” slung from their shoulders,
short sabres from their waists, calabash powder-horns and skin bullet
pouches hanging at either side, with mosquito nets rolled up at the
waist--imagine men thus rigged out, with unkempt hair and not too clean
a skin, and you have buccaneers in all their glory. Certainly they were
not calculated to inspire confidence when one met a little band of
about a dozen out hunting, with dogs following the quarry. But, at any
rate, they were comparatively peaceful--except when, after a successful
hunt, and a still more successful piece of trading by which they got
rid of their spoils, they were out on a carousal.
Now, as we have suggested, the Spaniards grew jealous of the growing
prosperity of the buccaneers; had the latter been Spanish, all would
have been well, but the Dons, ever since the New World had been
discovered for King Ferdinand, had sought to keep it and its wealth for
themselves; so that, when the Frenchmen on Hispaniola grew in numbers
and wealth, it seemed to the Spaniards a case for repressive measures.
They therefore instituted mounted patrols of lancers, armed with
lances. There were some four hundred of these, and their work was to
harry the buccaneers as much and as often as possible.
This warfare between the lancers and the buccaneers went on for
many years; but the Spaniards found that the hunters refused to be
intimidated; and if the truth were known, they probably enjoyed the
occasional bout with the Spaniards. In any case, they would not give
up their hunting for all the lancers in Hispaniola. The Spaniards
therefore resorted to other means. If the buccaneers would not go, then
their livelihood should be taken from them, and the powers that were
in Spain sent orders for the destruction of all the wild cattle in
Hispaniola.
The orders were carried out to the letter, and the buccaneers, finding
themselves without the means of living and trade, shook the dust of
Hispaniola from their feet, and in 1637 made their way to the island
of Tortuga, about six miles to the north of Hispaniola. There their
already large numbers were increased by the coming of a cosmopolitan
crowd of ruffians, till, feeling themselves strong enough, they
determined to take vengeance on Spain for having cast them adrift.
They fell upon Hispaniola, not once nor twice, but time after time,
until the Dons came to the conclusion that Tortuga must be under the
yoke of Spain and the buccaneers be swept away. So, timing their
descent well, they went over to Tortuga when the French were away
on the mainland, hunting, and the English were far off on a cruise.
Landing soldiers, they took the island within an hour, seizing a large
number of hunters before they had time to defend themselves. Some they
killed out of hand, others they made captive, but a good many succeeded
in escaping to certain hiding-places, whence, with the coming of night,
they slipped down to the shore and hurried off to the mainland in
canoes.
The Spaniards, feeling that this vigorous action would be sufficient to
keep Tortuga within bounds, sailed back to Hispaniola. But, instead of
having quashed the buccaneers, they found that they had but added fuel
to the fire, for when the rovers came back from cruising and hunting,
and discovered the condition of their island, they were filled with
anger. They went mad! Off to the French island of St. Christopher they
sailed, and Governor De Poncy, falling in with their plans, sent an
expedition to Tortuga, which was recaptured, and put in such a state
of defence that the disillusioned Dons had a shock next time they went
over to carry out a second attempt at terrorism. Two hundred Spaniards
bit the dust that day, and the buccaneer--the real buccaneer--was born.
For the Spaniard was successful in his efforts to kill the hunters’
trade; he stamped out the trading-hunter and gave life to a
particularly romantic kind of pirate-freebooter. The men of Tortuga
fell to preying upon the shipping of Spain. They were determined to
have their revenge.
It would appear from all accounts that the first successful buccaneer
who took to sea-roving was one Pierre le Grand, a native of Dieppe, who
had found his way to the New World in quest of fortune. Baffled in his
attempts to make the smiling lands yield up their wealth, he gathered
a congenial company about him, and went to sea in a small boat holding
himself and a crew of twenty men. The exploit that made him famous was
that by which he captured the vice-admiral of a Spanish fleet near Cape
of Tiburon, to the west of Hispaniola.
They had, it seems, been at sea a good while on the look-out for a
prize worth having, and, finding none, were getting disheartened--and
hungry, incidentally, seeing that they had used up most of their
rations. Then, like a gift from the gods, there came into view a
Spanish fleet, with a large ship standing some distance off from
the rest. Pierre decided that it would be impious to let such an
opportunity slip. He knew that it was a case of long odds, because the
Spaniard was a fine vessel, and no doubt well manned; but, nothing
venture, nothing have! So, waiting until the dusk of evening, Pierre,
who had received solemn oaths from his companions that they would stand
by him to the last, sailed towards his prey, hoping in his heart that
the Dons might be unprepared for battle.
He did not know it then, but later he found out that the captain of
the ship had had the little cockle-boat pointed out to him, with the
suggestion that it might be a pirate craft; whereupon the gallant
sailor had exclaimed:
“What, then, must I be afraid of such a pitiful thing as that is? No!
though she were a ship as big and as strong as mine is!”
Determined to hazard all upon a gambler’s throw, when Peter drew near
the great Spaniard, under cover of the twilight, he made his surgeon
bore holes in the sides of his boat, so that, with their own vessel
sinking quickly beneath them, his men might be impelled to put all
their energy into the attempt to board the Spanish ship.
So, with “all or nothing” as the unspoken battle-cry, the buccaneers
swarmed up the sides of the ship, hurled themselves aboard without
being seen, and rushed pell-mell to the captain’s cabin, where they
found him playing cards.
Pierre le Grand held the trump card--in the shape of a loaded pistol,
which he promptly presented at the captain’s head, calling upon him to
surrender.
“Jesus bless us!” cried the Spaniard. “Are these devils, or what are
they?”
The uninvited guests showed what they were; while Peter the Great kept
the captain quiet, others rushed to the gun-room, seized all the arms,
and then dispersed about the ship, taking prisoner whoever preferred
that to being killed out of hand. There was no gainsaying them, and
the captain gave in, with the result that Pierre found himself master
of a fine ship filled with treasure, and a crew that he hardly knew
what to do with. He solved the problem by setting ashore all he didn’t
want, and the rest he kept on to sail the ship to France. For the gay
buccaneer discovered that he was rich enough to retire, and never again
showed his face in the New World.
But if he did no more pirating himself, he set fire to the buccaneers
of Tortuga, who told themselves that what Pierre le Grand had done
they could do. If they had but ships! They were going to set up in
“business” that required good craft, and there they were with only
canoes. Well, canoes would do to get them where they could find
suitable ships, and, pushing off day after day, the buccaneers cruised
about Hispaniola and the neighbourhood, seizing small Spanish vessels
carrying tobacco and hides. These they took back to Tortuga, disposed
of the cargoes profitably, fitted out the vessels, and set out to sea
again, now to seek larger ships; with the result that, in a couple of
years, a score of buccaneer ships were sailing the seas proudly, taking
toll of the Spaniards for having stopped their peaceful livelihood.
Of these earlier buccaneers we must mention another Peter--Pierre
François. Like Peter the Great, his forerunner, he had been cruising
about a long time without a satisfactory prize turning up; and as
away at Tortuga were a number of men--whom we, in these modern days,
call “duns”--waiting for him to settle up various little accounts, he
thought it behoved him, for his creditors’ sake, to garner a harvest
that was worth while.
So, standing out from the neighbourhood of Hispaniola, Pierre François
ventured farther afield. Away down at Ranceiras, near the River Plate,
there was a fine rich bank of pearl, to which year after year the
Spaniards sent about a dozen large ships a-pearling, each squadron
having a man-o’-war to protect it.
[Illustration: “Promptly boarded the _Vice-Admiral_. ‘Surrender!’
yelled the buccaneers”]
Pierre François felt he would like to have some of the pearls which
other men had obtained. When he came up with the fleet, he found the
warship, the _Capitana_, of twenty-four guns and a couple of hundred
men, lying half a league away from the rest of the vessels; and, well
versed in the ways of the wily Spaniard, he knew that the man-o’-war
would be certain to hold the greater part of the harvest of the sea.
Wherefore, of course, Pierre decided that nothing less than the
_Capitana_ would pay him for the trip down the coast.
But first he must put himself in the way of being strong enough to take
the war vessel, and to this end he resolved to capture one of the other
ships to begin with. Pretending that his ship was a Spanish craft, he
pulled down his sails, rowed close to the shore till he reached the
pearl-bank, and then promptly boarded the _Vice-Admiral_, of eight guns
and threescore men.
“Surrender!” yelled the buccaneers.
“Never!” cried the Spaniards, and fell to fighting stubbornly; and then
did what they said they wouldn’t do--they surrendered.
So far so good. Pierre was elated. But he did want that man-o’-war!
First he sank his own vessel, which was in a pretty bad way. Then he
hoisted the Spanish flag on his prize and sailed away. The captain of
the _Capitana_, fearing that one of his convoy was running off with
treasure--those Spaniards never trusted each other!--set sail after the
runaway. Pierre let him come, and then, when within hailing distance,
made his prisoners yell: “_Victoria! Victoria!_ We have taken the
thieves!”
Whereupon the _Capitana_, believing that everything was all right, hove
to, drew off, and disappeared in the darkness, promising to send to
fetch the prisoners away in the morning.
During the night François decided to slip away. Perhaps he didn’t like
the look of the _Capitana_ after all; perhaps he was satisfied with
his haul. He should have been, for it contained pearls of the value
of 100,000 gold pieces of eight, and a large store of provisions. But
he had come to the end of his lucky lode, for the _Capitana_, having,
apparently, grown suspicious, suddenly hoisted sail and followed in
pursuit. Pierre hoped to be able to show a clean pair of heels before
daylight came. But Dame Fate played him a nasty trick; the wind fell,
and left him becalmed. And when dawn broke he saw that the _Capitana_,
becalmed also, lay within sight, waiting for the wind to freshen.
Evening came, and with it a breeze; and instantly Pierre hoisted all
sail and stood away, with the _Capitana_ in hot pursuit. Then Pierre
found he had made a mistake; the ship was unable to bear the burden of
so much sail as he had hoisted, and the fickle wind, bursting upon him,
brought his mainsail down with a rush.
That did it! The _Capitana_ sped through the water towards the
_Vice-Admiral_, and, coming within range, sent a few shots hurtling
at her, expecting to see her haul down the flag. Instead of which
Pierre, resolved to fight in the hope of coming out best, opened out
with his eight guns, and pounded away for all he was worth. He took
the precaution first of clapping his prisoners in the hold and nailing
down the hatches. And then, with but twenty-two men fit to fight--the
rest were either killed or wounded--he prepared to give battle. For
hours they fought, bravely and well; but all in vain. The man-o’-war
was too much for them, and at last Pierre signified his willingness
to surrender--on conditions. These were that they shouldn’t be made
slaves, nor be made to work on the plantations. The Spaniards agreed;
and within a short time François and his men were on board the Spanish
vessel--prisoners.
They were taken to Carthagena, where the Spaniards broke their word,
and made the prisoners slaves for three years, after which they were
sent to Spain.