Cuba in a small vessel of three guns and thirty men, fell to chasing a
big Spaniard of twenty big guns and seventy men. The Spaniards showed
fight, and beat Bartholomew off with losses he could ill afford. But,
determined to succeed or die, the buccaneer brought his vessel back
again, and, getting alongside, led his crew aboard the Spanish ship.
All fighting like demons, in the end they captured it, and found
themselves in possession of a vessel worth having, with a treasure on
board of 120,000 lbs. of cocoa and 75,000 crowns.
Joyful over their good fortune, the buccaneers bethought themselves of
returning to Jamaica, whence they had set out; but, as they were now
but twenty all told, they did not know how to keep their prisoners.
They solved that problem by bundling them into a small boat and turning
them adrift, after which they hoisted sail and set off to Cuba to
repair, as the wind was not favourable for Jamaica.
All would have gone well had they not fallen in with three large
ships bound for Havannah, which, becoming suspicious, gave chase,
and, as they were much faster vessels than the new-found prize of the
buccaneers, they quickly overhauled it, battered at it with their guns,
and before long had made the captors captives, with whom they set sail
for Campechy.
Portugues had a reputation that was not warranted to make him loved
in Campechy, and when he arrived there men lifted up their voices and
cried:
“Behold, this is Bartholomew Portugues, the biggest scoundrel in the
world, who has done more harm to Spanish trade than all the other
pirates put together.” And in due course the governor, in the name of
the King of Spain, sent soldiers, who took the buccaneer to another
ship, where he was clapped into irons to await the morning--and the
gallows, which were promptly erected. Bartholomew, made aware of the
preparations being made in his honour, considered it necessary to do
something on his own account for his safety. So in the night he freed
himself from his shackles, and, being ingenious and a non-swimmer,
fashioned strange water-wings, in the shape of a couple of leathern
jars he found in his cabin. Then, having waited till silence on the
ship told him that everyone was asleep--excepting, he surmised, the
sentry at his door--he resolved to make a bid for freedom. The sentry
he stabbed with a knife he had concealed, and then slipped over the
ship’s side, clambered down the mainchains into the sea, and, supported
by his jars, made his way to shore.
Into the woods he darted, and for three days hid there, on a diet of
wild herbs, listening to the sounds of baying bloodhounds and angry
citizens seeking him high and low. Fortunately for the buccaneer, his
place of concealment was in a hollow tree partly covered by water,
which put the bloodhounds off the scent.
In due course the searchers became convinced that the pirate had eluded
them, and gave up the search, and Bartholomew decided it was safe to
venture forth. He wanted to get to Gulfo Triste, 160 miles away, and
thither he bent his steps. It was a long way and a weary way, and a
hungry and thirsty way, too, for he had no provisions and little water.
He came to rivers that he must cross, and he had no boats. He found a
board with a few old nails in it, and out of these he fashioned crude
knives, with which he laboriously cut down branches of trees, and
made a raft by which to cross the rivers. Sometimes the rivers were
fordable, but were filled with alligators. At these he flung stones
to scare them away, and then sallied forth across the stream. Once a
mangrove swamp lay between him and the place where he would fain go.
There was no road; only the swamp, that would swallow him up if he put
foot upon it. He solved the problem of progress by swinging from bough
to bough of the mangrove, travelling for miles in that way. Truly,
Bartholomew was a hardy traveller!
Thus for a whole fortnight the buccaneer kept on his lonely way, and at
last reached Gulfo Triste, where he found what he had hoped would be
there--a buccaneer ship, careening.
The pirates were friends of his, and he poured into their attentive
ears the story of his adventures and misadventures. They listened
even more attentively when he told them that, if they would help him,
he would put in their way a ship that would enable them to brave any
vessel that the Spanish Dons might send out against them; besides which
it contained goodly treasures.
“Give me a boat and thirty men,” he said, “and I will go back to
Campechy and bring back the ship that took me prisoner.”
His friends gave the boat and the men, and Bartholomew set out, hugging
the coast, and eight days later came to Campechy. Then, under the cover
of darkness, he put his boat alongside the great vessel, scrambled up
her side, and prepared to rush. The sentry challenged him. Bartholomew,
in Spanish, murmured soothingly that they were part of the crew
returning, after an evening ashore, with smuggled goods, and the sentry
kept quiet. He was quieter still soon, for a knife-thrust laid him low.
Then, with a rush, the buccaneers fell upon the watch, overpowered
them, cut the cable and set the vessel adrift; after which they ran
below. The sleeping crew awoke in a great fright, and, with pistols at
their heads, were compelled to surrender.
The ship was won!
Bartholomew, however, seemed dogged by hard luck, for while he was
making his way past the Isle of Pines, bound for Jamaica, a great storm
burst upon him, and drove his prize upon the rocks, where she held fast
until she was broken to pieces.
The ship was lost!
The buccaneers, however, succeeded in escaping to Jamaica in a canoe,
from where, according to Esquemeling, the chronicler of the dark deeds
of the bold pirates, “it was not long before Bartholomew Portugues went
on new adventures, but was never fortunate afterwards.”
MORGAN: BUCCANEER AND GOVERNOR
Tales of the Remarkable Exploits of the Greatest Buccaneer
Before telling the story of the buccaneer who became Governor of
Jamaica, we must mention the change which had taken place in the
methods of the buccaneers. From being mere rovers of the sea, bent
on taking toll of shipping, they had developed into a brotherhood
which made bold attempts on cities. The Spaniards, weary of their
depredations and finding that they could not cope with them, had
reduced the amount of shipping, so that the buccaneers had to turn to
more profitable fields of enterprise. Hence, says Esquemeling, “the
pirates finding not so many ships at sea as before, began to gather
into greater companies, and land upon the Spanish dominions, ruining
whole cities, towns and villages; and withal pillaging, burning, and
carrying away as much as they could find possible.”
And now to Captain Henry Morgan, the most famous of the buccaneers.
He was a Welshman, who, after various little “affairs,” found himself
in command of a pirate vessel, with which he was successful. Later,
he allied himself with Mansvelt, a notorious buccaneer, and after
the death of that worthy, Morgan was appointed to the command of the
Brethren of the Coast.
At the head of his band of rogues, he captured the towns of Port au
Prince, Cuba, and Porto Bello, Panama--both after stiff fights--and
from the latter he extracted a heavy ransom, was cheeky to the
governor of Panama, after he had waylaid and beaten an expedition sent
out to wipe him off the Spanish main, and promised the governor that he
would come later and sack his city for him!
Then he turned his attention to Maracaibo.
First of all, he held a review of his force; it consisted of eight
ships and five hundred men, quite a formidable little army. With these
he sailed, and in due course arrived off Maracaibo. The buccaneers held
off till night came, sailing in under cover of the darkness until they
arrived near the bar. The Spaniards, sighting the strange vessels, were
taking no risks, and opened fire immediately, pounding away at the
pirates as they put out their boats and manned them, ready to sweep
in and land. Of course, Morgan’s ships gave the Spaniards as much as
they received, and during the day a fine little fight was kept up. Then
night came again; and Morgan, meaning to take advantage of it, swooped
in, to find that the Spaniards in the fort had bolted precipitately
when night fell.
They had taken the precaution, however, of setting a fuse train to a
barrel of gunpowder, sufficient to hurl the fort and the buccaneers
into the Great Unknown. Fortunately, Morgan’s men, scouring about for
such a likely thing, hit upon it in about a quarter of an hour, and
soon destroyed the fuse.
That done, the fort was ransacked and demolished. Next day, free from
hindrance of the fort, the eight pirate ships passed into the harbour,
and went on to Maracaibo. The water, however, being too shallow to
allow of the ships passing up, the buccaneers took to small boats
and canoes, and in this way made their way to the town. Landing,
they immediately rushed Fort De la Barra, only to find that it was
deserted; the Spaniards here had fled like their comrades farther
down, as also had the people in the town, with the exception of a few
old folk.
Truly, Morgan was having an easy time.
Searching the town to make sure that there were no soldiers hidden in
the houses to open fire upon them as they passed through the streets,
and finding none, the buccaneers dispersed about the city, some taking
up their abode in the church, for nothing was held sacred to these
terrible scourgers of the sea and sackers of cities.
Although Morgan captured a number of fugitives and a good deal
of booty, he realised that there was nothing much to be gained
from Maracaibo, and decided to assault Gibraltar. First he sent a
batch of prisoners to the city, to warn the inhabitants that they
must surrender, or else they would receive no quarter; and almost
immediately followed them with his ships. Gibraltar, however, was
determined not to surrender at the behest of a scoundrelly buccaneer,
and Morgan was met by a terrific cannonading.
Nothing daunted, the buccaneers accepted their welcome philosophically,
counting it but the bitters before the sweets. Early next morning,
they landed and marched on the town, taking the safe route through the
woods, the Spaniards in the fort little expecting them to come by that
way. However, the dons, aware of the reputation of Morgan, had followed
the example of their compatriots at Maracaibo and had fled, leaving
only one old man to receive the buccaneers. They had taken all the
munitions of war, all the treasure, and as much of their goods as they
could cope with, and they had spiked all the guns.
There were a number of murderous and cruel incidents connected with
the prisoners they succeeded in taking later on. From one of these
unfortunate men they learned of a certain river where there was a
richly laden ship and four boats filled with treasure; he also told
them that he knew where the governor of Gibraltar was hidden.
This was good news. Morgan went off with a large force to capture the
governor, and sent another body of men to take the ship and the boats.
Morgan was unsuccessful in capturing the governor, who had heard of his
coming and had taken up a strong position on a mountain; so that the
buccaneer had to forgo the pleasure of capturing him, and, moreover,
had to make a perilous retreat, owing to the fact that the rains had
come and the ground was swampy--sometimes, indeed, the men had to wade
waist deep. Many female prisoners and children died of exposure; some
of the buccaneers died also, and all their powder was wet and useless,
so that, if the Spaniards had had the gumption of mice, they would have
fallen upon Morgan and utterly routed him. But they hadn’t; and they
didn’t.
Morgan, therefore, arrived safely back at Gibraltar, where two days
later his other men turned up, bringing the four boats and some
prisoners, but little treasure. The Spaniards had taken it out of the
ship and the boats.
Having held Gibraltar for five weeks, and having committed all sorts of
cruelties to extract treasure from the prisoners taken, Morgan decided
that it was time to be moving. He first of all sent prisoners into the
woods to collect a ransom for the city, failing which the place would
be burnt out. The searchers came back minus ransom; they could not
find anyone who would give them money, they said. Morgan was furious;
but the inhabitants begged him to allow them time, offering to give
themselves up as hostages. Morgan, who was anxious to get back to
Maracaibo before the Spaniards had had time to refortify it, agreed to
this, and eventually sailed away, taking a goodly treasure with him and
all the slaves he had captured.
Reaching Maracaibo, he found that the Spaniards had not yet come back,
but learned from an old man that three Spanish men-o’-war were lying at
the entrance to the river, waiting for him, and that the fort had been
repaired. Here was a pretty pass! Safety lay in getting out, and three
battleships were hovering about!
Morgan, however, like the bold adventurer he was, refused to regard
himself as caught. He sent a messenger to the admiral of the Spanish
ships, Don Alonzo del Campo d’Espinosa, with an ultimatum!
“Ransom of 20,000 pieces of eight for Maracaibo, or I’ll burn the
city!” was the trend of that ultimatum; as though Morgan were master of
the situation.
The messenger came back, bringing a letter from d’Espinosa, informing
Morgan that, seeing his commission was to secure the buccaneers, and
as he had a good backing of ships, besides the repaired fort, he would
see Morgan to the deuce before he took any notice of the latter’s
ultimatum. He made one concession, however; that if Morgan would refund
all he had taken, and quit the Spanish Main for England, he would allow
him to pass freely. Otherwise, the Spaniards would give fight, and put
every buccaneer to the sword.
Morgan read the letter, said a few strong things about Spaniards in
general and d’Espinosa in particular, and then called a council of
his men in the market-place of Maracaibo, and was gratified to know
that they would all stand by him in a vigorous offensive against the
Spaniards. One of them propounded a scheme for destroying the Spanish
vessels. Fireships! That was the suggestion.
Notwithstanding their determination to fight, the buccaneers had
another try at corrupting d’Espinosa. They sent saying that they would
compromise by doing no damage to the town, or exact ransom from it; and
that they would release half the slaves taken, all other prisoners, and
forgo any ransom from Gibraltar, if the Spaniards would allow them to
pass through unmolested. D’Espinosa, of course, refused the terms, and
gave the buccaneers two days to fall into line with his own suggestion.
He would have done better if he had attacked them out of hand, for
Morgan immediately began to put himself in fighting form. He secured
his prisoners, had all arms prepared, and then fixed up a fireship. She
was drenched with tar and brimstone, logs of wood were placed upright
on her decks, surmounted by hats, to resemble men; dummy cannons were
fixed in her portholes and on her decks.
All being ready, they went down the river to seek the Spaniards, the
fireship leading the way. At night they came within sight of the
enemy, dropped anchor, determined to fight all night if the Spaniards
attacked. But morning came, and the foe had not opened the battle, so
Morgan opened it instead. He sent the fireship ahead; she grappled the
admiral’s ship, and almost simultaneously burst into flame. Instantly
there was confusion on the Spanish ship, which tried to cut herself
free. But in vain; the flames caught her rigging and canvas, even her
timber, so that within a very short time the stern of the ship was
ablaze, the forepart sank, and the great ship perished. Meanwhile, the
other Spaniards were horror-stricken; one ship ran for the shelter of
the fort--anywhere to get away from such a fate; the Spaniards sank her
themselves rather than that she should fall to the foe. The third ship
was attacked by the buccaneers and captured; and Morgan knew that his
bold plan had been successful.
The buccaneers, gladdened at their victory, landed, with the intention
of assaulting the fort; but, finding it well armed and manned, and they
themselves having only small pieces with them, thought discretion the
better part of valour for the time, though they had a little fight with
the Spaniards, just for fun, which cost them thirty men dead and as
many wounded. The Dons, fearing another attack both by land and sea,
entrenched themselves during the night; but Morgan was not intending to
assault them again, but rather to find a way out, for the fort still
stood between him and escape. First of all he left one ship near the
scene of the fight, to watch the vessels which had been burnt, and
which he heard contained a large treasure. Then he returned with the
prize to Maracaibo, where he refitted her, and then went back to his
other ships near the fort.
Master of the situation, he now sent to the governor demanding the
ransom--now 30,000 pieces of eight and 500 cows; otherwise, the city
should be burnt in eight days. In two days the cows were forthcoming,
and 20,000 pieces of eight, the ransom finally agreed upon. Meanwhile,
the governor was working hard at getting the fort in a thorough state
of repair, so that he might dispute the passage of the pirates as they
tried to force their way through. Having salted all the meat supplied
him, Morgan asked the governor to allow him free passage. It was
refused. The buccaneer replied by threatening to hang his prisoners
in the rigging, so that they should be shot by the fort guns as the
vessels swung past. The governor refused to budge, even when the
prisoners made a frantic appeal to him.
“All right,” was Morgan’s answer. “If he will not let me pass, then
I’ll find a way without him.”
The vessel which he had left near the burnt ship had been successful in
getting many pieces of eight out of her, and a large quantity of plate
and molten gold.
As the governor refused him safe passage, Morgan, having divided the
booty of the expedition, amounting to 250,000 pieces of eight and a
large quantity of merchandise, turned his attention to finding the
means whereby to escape. Fertile in invention, cool in execution, he
soon found a way. It was a bold piece of strategy that he hit upon. On
the day he had decided to leave despite the governor, he sent boats,
fully manned, to the shore, but instead of landing, the men, under
shelter of the trees overhanging the river, simply lay down in the
boats, which were pulled back to the ships, only to be sent off again
to follow the same procedure. The Spaniards in the fort, seeing such
large numbers of men apparently coming ashore, prepared themselves for
a fierce night attack. They therefore mounted all their big guns on the
landward side, which was just what Morgan had hoped they would do!
Night came; the buccaneers weighed anchor, and with lights out and
no sails set, but trusting to the tide, they drifted down river till
they were abreast of the castle, when they spread their sails with all
haste and made for the open sea. Instantly the Spaniards perceived
how they had been hoodwinked, and in frantic haste moved their guns
back to their original positions, and began firing at the buccaneers,
who, however, favoured by a good breeze, were able to swing by without
receiving much damage.
Safely past the fort, Morgan hove to, and in the morning sent some
of his prisoners to the governor, who dispatched boats so that the
others might be sent ashore, Morgan, however, detaining the hostages
from Gibraltar, as the city had not yet paid its ransom. Then the
buccaneers, giving the Spaniards a parting salvo of seven great guns,
dipped their flags in derision and went away, to run into a great
storm, which threatened to do what the Spaniards had not been able to
do--destroy them. However, they rode it out, and eventually reached
Jamaica, highly pleased with themselves.
As was the custom with the buccaneers, Morgan’s men soon dissipated
the fortune they had made in their raid on Maracaibo and Gibraltar,
and the chief was besieged by men who wanted him to undertake another
expedition. Nothing loath, Morgan called a council of buccaneers at
Port Couillon, on the south of Hispaniola, on October 24, 1670. Here
he propounded a mighty big scheme, and one that had to be carefully
worked out. First, provisions were necessary, and the buccaneers sent
an expedition to the mainland to scour for maize, while another went
hunting for animals; and when all these were obtained they met again
at Port Couillon, where the final arrangements were made. Everything
being ready, they set sail for Cape Tiburon, where they were joined by
a number of other ships, which brought the fleet up to thirty-seven
vessels and two thousand men, all well armed, and each ship with large
guns aboard. Morgan, finding himself the leader of such a formidable
expedition, organised it properly, forming it into two squadrons,
appointing a vice-admiral and other officers for the second squadron,
he himself leading the first.
Having fixed these little matters up, the buccaneers discussed their
expedition. Where should they go? The votes fell for Panama, which was
counted the richest city to plunder. As they were not familiar with the
overland route, they decided to seize guides from the island of St.
Catherine, and in due course the armada appeared off the fort of that
place. They sent messengers demanding its surrender, and the governor
gave in, whereupon the buccaneers busied themselves in laying in all
the stores they wanted; and that being done, enlisted three pretty
rogues to act as guides to them in their great venture.
Then Morgan sent off a fairly large party to assault the castle of
Chagre, as a sort of preliminary canter; and when this had been
successfully done, he himself went to the castle, rebuilt it, and so
secured his line of retreat--if Fate should make it necessary for him
to flee before the Spaniards at Panama. Five hundred of his ruffians
were left as a garrison, and 150 guarded the ships, 1,200 going with
Morgan when he set out for Panama, which he did as soon as everything
was ready.
The buccaneer received information that the Spaniards were aware of his
projected expedition, and had prepared against it, placing ambuscades
on the line of route. But, instead of scaring Morgan, it really only
made him alter his plans to the extent that, instead of carrying as
many stores as he would have done, he relied upon sending the Spaniards
scurrying from their ambushes, and taking their stores for himself.
On January 18, 1671, therefore, the buccaneers left Chagre in
boisterous spirits, with songs on their lips, and with the good wishes
of their comrades ringing in their ears. Drums were beaten, flags
waved, blunder-busses were fired, as the intrepid 1,200 embarked in
boats and canoes.
Their troubles began at once. The day was hot, the boats none too
commodious to contain all the men, and the result was that the
buccaneers were sun-scorched and cramped as they made their way up the
river against the stream, with the water lapping over the gunwales,
so crowded were the craft. Six Spanish leagues only were covered that
first day, and when evening fell the buccaneers scrambled ashore to
seek for food. They found little or none. Morgan had not bargained for
the Spaniards taking such effective measures to render his expedition a
failure; but the Dons had given instructions all along the route that
every particle of food was to be removed, animals driven away, and
what could not be cleared off to be destroyed. Esquemeling says that
“this day, being the first of all their journey, there was amongst them
such scarcity of victuals that the greatest part of them were forced
to pass with only a pipe of tobacco, without any other refreshment.”
The following day the journey was resumed, but the same troubles beset
them, and when they arrived at Cruz de Juan Gallego, in the evening,
they had to abandon their boats and canoes, because the river was
shallow and filled with fallen trees.