from the Spaniards, the garrison of twenty-five men surrendering without
a blow. Here was now the grand rendezvous of the French, for which it
was perfectly suitable from its proximity to the food supply and the
track of the Spanish vessels. It was situated on the north of the
western portion of Hispaniola, and not very well suited for plantations,
although good tobacco was grown there. There were, however, plenty of
sea fowl and turtle to be had, as well as their eggs, which formed a
large portion of the diet of the inhabitants.
This island became a veritable pandemonium--the sink of the West Indies.
It was the place of call for rovers of all nations, the market for their
booty, and the storehouse for everything in the way of supplies. The
merchants pandered to the tastes of their customers, and drinking and
gambling went on continually. But in 1638 it was surprised by the
Spaniards, who began to be alarmed at this nest of pirates at their very
doors. They chose a time when most of the rovers were away on a cruise,
and the buccaneers gone hunting in Hispaniola. All they captured were
killed--even those who surrendered being hanged as pirates. Only a few
escaped by hiding among the rocks and bushes to come forth after the
enemy had left, which they did without leaving a garrison.
A grand attempt to expel the hunters from the main island was now
organised, in which a corps of five hundred lancers ranged the island in
bands of fifties. Many of the buccaneers were killed, but the remainder
combined together under an Englishman named Willis and again took
possession of Tortuga.
From this rendezvous near Hispaniola the main passages between the
islands were under observation, but a similar station was required near
the Isthmus, and this was established about 1630 in the Bay of
Campeachy. Like that at Tortuga its beginnings are lost in obscurity. At
first one or more of the small islands or keys was used on
occasion--later fortifications were erected, and a watch always kept for
the enemy. The excuse for the settlement was the logwood trade, but this
did not become of much importance until after the English conquest of
Jamaica.
Like the true buccaneers these pirates were fond of hunting, but their
game was principally Indians, whom they attacked and carried off from
the Main, the men to sell to the plantations and the women to keep for
themselves. When they arrived after a cruise and sold their booty, they
would have a jolly time with drinking, gambling, and firing of guns,
until the island would seem to be the habitation of devils rather than
human beings.
There were also other pirate resorts, notably the Virgin Islands and the
Bahamas, but these were generally used only by one company, and never
rose to the position of general resorts. It is to these that most of the
romances refer, but the stories of Pirate and Treasure islands rarely
have much foundation in fact.
How privateers became pirates is well shown by a case that occurred in
the latter half of the seventeenth century. A vessel went cruising from
the Carolinas, and after being out for eighteen months had gained so
few prizes that the crew began to complain. After discussing the
situation, they resolved to try the South Sea, where they hoped to find
the Spaniards less prepared. Meeting with very bad weather at the
entrance of the Strait of Magellan, they were, however, obliged to turn
back, and then the majority decided to become pirates. Eight men who
refused to agree were marooned on the island of Fernando Po, their late
comrades leaving them a small boat in which they expected to be able to
get to some English colony.
The vessel left, and commenced her piratical work at once by capturing a
Portuguese ship larger than herself, the crew being brought and landed
on the same island. In the night the Portuguese made off, taking with
them the Englishmen's boat as well as their own, leaving the eight
privateers to do the best they could. However, they were not easily
daunted, and at once began to cut down trees and build a sloop of four
tons, which they finished in six weeks, meanwhile living on sea fowl and
their eggs, which were plentiful. Finally they sailed for Tobago, but
missing that island got to Tortuga, where they arrived almost perishing
with hunger and thirst, having had nothing to eat or drink for six days.
Even then they were not discouraged, but after resting awhile, set sail
in the same boat for New England, passing along the Spanish islands,
often unable to land for water on account of the enemy, and lying under
cover of the mangroves, to be almost devoured by mosquitoes. Even with
all this care they were taken at last, stripped, thrust down in the
hold of a Spanish _guarda-costa_, and finally kept as slaves in the
island of Cuba.
In the early years of the seventeenth century few of the adventurers had
any commissions, but as the mother countries began to establish
settlements, letters of marque were granted when there was a war. The
corsairs and pirates then became privateers, only to go back to their
old trade when peace was nominally restored. Some played fast and loose
with these commissions, sometimes having both French and English at the
same time, either to be used according to circumstances. The French
Governors went so far as to sell these documents signed and sealed, but
without names, so that they passed from hand to hand ready to be filled
up when the pirate wished to escape the yard-arm. The young colonies
were too weak to incur their displeasure--in fact they were glad to
encourage their visits, as the settlers could always pick up good
bargains when they sold their booty. Yet, with all that, there was a
dread of them, even among their own countrymen, which prevented that
feeling of safety which best consists with the progress of a colony.
We can say little of individuals, as there were so many, but we may
mention a few of the most striking characters and their daring exploits.
They inspired such dread among the Spaniards that at last the latter
hardly dared to defend themselves against them, but on their approach
immediately surrendered. If the cargo was rich, quarter was granted, but
if otherwise, or anything was found secreted, the whole company,
officers, crew, and passengers, were forced to leap overboard. Pierre
Legrand with his twenty-eight men once attacked a great Spanish galleon,
and before going alongside scuttled his own vessel so that it sunk as
the pirates leapt on to the enemy's deck. With no possibility of retreat
the men fought like devils and quickly got possession of the galleon,
with the usual result.
When other nations had compelled respect from Spain their vessels were
sometimes chartered to carry rich cargoes, which thus sailed under the
protection of another flag. But the pirates were not to be cheated so
easily, for they had their spies on the look-out, and often managed to
glean information. On one occasion Captains Michael de Basco and Brouage
heard of two Dutch vessels leaving Carthagena with treasure and at once
followed, attacked and captured them. Exasperated at being beaten by a
force much smaller than their own, the Dutch captains told Michael that
he could not have overcome them if he had been alone. "Very well," said
the audacious Frenchman, "let us begin the fight again, and Captain
Brouage shall look on. But if I conquer I will not only have the Spanish
silver you carry, but your own ships as well." The Dutch were not
inclined to accept this challenge, but made off as soon as they could
after the treasure had been taken into the pirate vessels, fearing they
might otherwise lose their opportunity.
Captain Lawrence was once unexpectedly overtaken by two Spanish
sixty-gun ships, the crews of which numbered fifteen hundred. Addressing
his men, he said--"You have experience enough to be aware of your
danger, and too much courage to fear. On this occasion we must avail
ourselves of every circumstance, hazard everything, and attack and
defend at the same time. Valour, artifice, rashness, and even despair
itself must now be employed. Let us fear the disgrace of a defeat; let
us dread the cruelty of our enemy; and let us fight that we may escape
him." After he was applauded with loud cheers, Lawrence took aside one
of the bravest of his men, and in the presence of all, gave him strict
orders to fire the gunpowder at a given signal, thus telling them
plainly they must fight or be blown up. Meanwhile the enemy had
approached very close, and Lawrence, ranging his men on both sides of
the vessel, steered between the two great monsters, firing a broadside
on either hand as he passed, which they could not return for fear of
damaging each other. He did not succeed in capturing them, but they were
so demoralised by his determined attitude, and the number of killed and
wounded, that they were glad to make off.
Montbar was a Frenchman who had heard of the atrocities of the Spaniards
and the exploits of the buccaneers, and determined to go out to the West
Indies to join in the fray. On his voyage from France he met a Spanish
vessel which he attacked and boarded with a sabre in his hand. Passing
twice from bow to stern, he carved his way through the enemy, entirely
reckless of danger, and by his example animated his comrades until the
vessel was taken. Then standing apart while the spoil was being
divided, he gloated with savage pleasure over the corpses that lay on
the deck.
Arrived at Hispaniola he heard from the buccaneers that they could do
little in the way of planting because of the continual attacks on their
settlements. "Why then," said Montbar, roughly, "do you tamely submit to
such insults?" "We do not!" they answered; "the Spaniards have
experienced what kind of men we are, and therefore take advantage of the
time when we go hunting. But we are going to join with some of our
companions, who have been even worse treated than ourselves, and then we
shall have hot work." "If such be the case let me lead you," said
Montbar, "not as a commander, but first in the post of danger."
They were quite willing to have him as leader, and the very same day he
went at the head of a party to find the enemy. Meeting a small body of
Spaniards he rushed upon them with such fury that hardly one escaped,
and this at once justified them in their choice. He afterwards became
such a terror all over the West Indies as to be known as "the
Exterminator."
Lolonois was another ruffian, who commenced his career by taking a
Spanish frigate with only two canoes and twenty-two men. This vessel had
sailed from Havana especially to put down the buccaneers, and had on
board a negro executioner who was engaged to hang the prisoners. Hearing
this from the negro, Lolonois ordered all the Spaniards to be brought
before him, and going down the line, he struck off one head after
another, licking his sword after each blow. He afterwards went to Port
au Prince, where four vessels were fitting out for his capture. These
he took and threw all their crews into the sea, except one man, whom he
sent to the Governor of Havana with the news, and a warning that he
would treat the Governor himself in the same way if he had the
opportunity.
After this he ran the best prizes aground and sailed for Tortuga in the
frigate, where he joined Michael de Basco. With four hundred and forty
men this worthy pair sailed for the Main, where they plundered the coast
of Venezuela, set fire to Gibraltar, and held Maracaybo for ransom. They
carried off all the crosses, pictures, plate, ornaments, and even bells
from the churches, with the intention of using them in a great cathedral
to be erected on Tortuga.
Although the buccaneers were mostly French they were not confined to
that nationality. The famous or notorious Captain Morgan was a Welshman,
who began his career in the West Indies as a bond-servant. One of his
greatest exploits was the capture of Porto Bello, which had taken the
place of Nombre de Dios after that town had been burnt by Drake. He even
out-did Drake and every other adventurer before him by storming Panama,
from whence he obtained a very rich booty. Here he fell in love with a
Spanish lady, who, however, threatened to stab herself rather than yield
to his embraces. Even when he tried the gentlest measures which such a
ruffian could think of, she still refused to yield, so that he had
ultimately to comply with the wishes of his companions and leave her.
Panama was burnt, the retreat across the isthmus safely performed
without any serious misadventure, and Morgan sailed away to Jamaica
with the lion's share of the plunder.
In this great expedition the buccaneers of all nations united to form a
combination hitherto unknown. But, as this was the first time that such
a thing had occurred, so also was it the last. As for Morgan his career
was ended; his comrades charged him with treachery and made it unsafe
for him to come within their reach. He therefore settled down in
Jamaica, made himself right with the authorities there and in England,
was knighted by King Charles the Second, and professed now to have a
great dislike to piracy. On two occasions Sir Henry Morgan became acting
Governor of Jamaica, and in that capacity did his best to discountenance
buccaneering.
In 1683 a great expedition was organised at Tortuga by Van Horn, a
Fleming, noted for his courage and ferocity. In the heat of an
engagement he would pace the deck, and urge his men to fight by shooting
any one who even flinched from a ball. He thus made himself a terror to
cowards and the admiration of the brave; like Montbar, gaining the
respect and confidence of his followers. Like the French leader also, he
was careless about his own share of the booty, leaving everything to his
men, which naturally increased his popularity. With twelve hundred men
in six vessels he sailed for Vera Cruz, and surprised the town at night.
Most of the inhabitants took refuge in the churches, and the buccaneers
posted sentries with barrels of gunpowder in front of each, giving
orders to blow up the buildings on the least sign of an attempt to
escape. After plundering the houses they demanded about half a million
pounds from the prisoners as ransom for their lives and liberties. This
was not obtained, however, for while waiting the collection a large body
of troops was seen approaching from the interior, and a fleet of
seventeen vessels came into the harbour from Spain. Yet the buccaneers
were determined to get something towards the ransom, and to this end
seized fifteen hundred slaves, with which they quietly sailed away in
defiance of the enemy, promising to call again for the balance of the
ransom. The Spanish fleet let them pass without firing a single gun, and
they went back to Tortuga, there to spend a year in rioting and
carousing.
When their money was all spent they resolved to try the most arduous of
adventures, a raid on the ports of the Great South Sea. And it happened
curiously that at that very time the English pirates were getting ready
for a similar venture, without either having knowledge of that of the
other party. About four thousand men were engaged, some going by way of
the Straits of Magellan and others across the isthmus. The English and
French met, and at first agreed to work together, but for want of one
leader who could command and be respected by both parties, the
expedition proved almost a failure. Possibly also the French had not
forgotten Morgan's treachery, and this caused distrust and prevented any
cordial feeling.
Those who travelled across the isthmus stole boats on the other side,
and with them captured larger vessels, until this little frequented sea
became almost as dangerous to Spanish ships as the Caribbean. Most of
the smaller ports were surprised, and even Guayaquil was captured,
mainly because they were not provided with forts and other defences. In
fact, the people were so unacquainted with war and so wrapped up by the
supposed security of their position, that even when the alarm was given
little could be done. Silver became so common that nothing but gold,
pearls, and precious stones would satisfy the spoilers, yet with all
their easy conquests they got little real benefit. Some died of
sickness, and many from the results of drunkenness and debauchery. The
storms of Cape Horn and the Straits wrecked several vessels, and drowned
both spoil and spoilers, while those who attempted to return by land
were equally unfortunate. They died in the bush of fever and dysentery,
or were cut off by ambuscades of the enemy, often losing their booty if
they escaped with their lives.
What a journey across the isthmus really meant at that time is well
exemplified in the case of Lionel Wafer. In 1681 he was a surgeon on
board an English vessel under Captain Sharp, one of those privateers who
went cruising in the South Sea. After spending some time there the party
divided, one portion deciding to cross overland, and the other to
continue the cruise.
Wafer went with those who intended crossing the isthmus, the whole
numbering forty-four white men and three Indians. They marched from the
Pacific shore one afternoon, and towards night arrived at the foot of a
hill, where they put up several rough sheds. Rain had already begun to
fall--such rain as is only known in the tropics--and they had to crouch
under these imperfect shelters until midnight, with streams of water
running down their backs and rivulets flowing about their feet. By
morning they felt less discomfort and were glad to warm their chilled
limbs by walking up the hill. Here they came upon an Indian path which
led to a village, where they were gratified with food and a drink made
of Indian corn. After resting awhile they agreed with one of the Indians
to guide them on the next day's journey, and that night rested in the
village.
Next morning they went on again, and at mid-day arrived at an Indian
hut, the owner of which was so morose and surly that at first he refused
to have anything to do with them. After they had spoken kindly and asked
him to guide them on their journey, he roughly answered that he was
prepared to lead them to the Spanish settlements. This of course would
never do, and they offered him beads, money, axes, and knives to gain
his good-will, but all without effect, until a sky-blue petticoat was
dangled before the eyes of his wife. This turned the scale, for her
persuasions being added to theirs, he at last consented to procure a
guide, excusing himself from the task on the plea that he was lame from
a cut. He wished to detain them with him for the day, as it still
rained, but they were in so great a dread of being discovered by the
enemy that, having obtained the guide, they marched three miles farther
before stopping for the night.
On the fourth morning the weather was fairer, and they travelled for
twelve miles over hills and through slushy morasses, crossing one river
after another to the number of about thirty. Rain poured down again in
the afternoon and during the greater part of the night, so that they had
much ado to keep their fires from going out. What with the discomforts
of their situation, the want of proper food, and the chilliness
preceding intermittent fever, they even forgot for the time their fears
of the Spaniards. However, as the sun rose they went on again until,
after travelling seven miles through the forest, they reached the hut of
a Spanish Indian, who supplied them with yams, sweet potatoes, and
plantains, but no meat except the flesh of two monkeys, which they gave
to the weak and sickly.
While resting here Wafer met with an accident. One of the company, in
drying some gunpowder on a silver plate, carelessly placed it near the
fire where he was sitting, with the result that it exploded and tore the
skin and flesh from one of his thighs, rendering him almost helpless. He
had a few medicines in his knapsack and dressed the wound as well as he
could under the circumstances, but rest and proper food were needed, and
these he could not have. The consequence was that, after struggling
along with the others until he sank down exhausted and suffering from
excruciating torture, he was left behind with two sick men at an Indian
village, where they were presently joined by two others who had broken
down.
Observing the condition of Wafer's wound, the Indians treated it with a
poultice of chewed herbs on a plantain leaf, and in twenty days it was
healed. Nevertheless, although they did him this kindness, they were
not over civil, but on the contrary treated the five white men with
contempt, throwing them their refuse provisions as if they were dogs.
One young Indian proved kinder, and got them some ripe bananas now and
then, but the others were annoyed because the main body had compelled
some inhabitants of the village to go with them as guides against their
will. The weather was then so bad that even the Indians considered
travelling almost impossible, and this annoyed them all the more,
especially when the guides did not return.
Day after day passed, and the Indians becoming more incensed at the
non-arrival of their people, began to think of avenging themselves on
Wafer and his comrades. Thinking that the guides had been murdered, they
determined to burn them to death, and even went so far as to erect a
great pile of wood for the purpose. But almost at the last moment their
chief interposed, and offered to send away the Englishmen in charge of
two guides.
Accordingly they set out, their only food supply a little dry Indian
corn, and their only resting-place at night the wet ground, still
exposed to drenching rains which fell every day. The third night they
went to sleep on a low mound, and in the morning woke to find it a
little island with water extending as far as their eyes could reach. To
add to their trouble, the Indian guides had disappeared, leaving them to
remain here without shelter and almost starved for three days. Then the
waters fell and they commenced the weary work of steering to the north
by means of a pocket compass--a task the difficulty of which can only
be appreciated by one who has attempted it.
However, they soon reached the bank of a deep river, the stream of which
was rushing along like a mill race. Here a lately-felled tree lying
across showed them where their comrades had passed, and they commenced
to climb over astride as the trunk was so slippery. One of the party was
so weak and so overburdened by four hundred pieces of eight (silver
dollars) that he fell, and was immediately carried down the stream out
of sight.
Giving him up as lost, the four survivors went wandering about, looking
for the footprints of their comrades, but could find no trace of them,
probably on account of the floods. Fearing a mistake, they again crossed
the river and recommenced the search on the other side, where they were
surprised to come upon their lost companion sitting on the bank, which
he had managed to gain by grasping the bough of a tree as he was borne
swiftly past. Finding no signs of a trail, they again went on working
with the compass as before. On the fifth day they had nothing to eat but
a few wild berries, and the day following arrived at another great river
where not even a tree lay across to give them a passage. They had only
their long knives, but with them they set to work and cut down bamboos,
with which rafts were made by binding the sticks with bush-ropes. They
had just finished and were resting awhile, when a terrible storm came
on. The rain fell as if from a cascade, thunder rolled and lightning
flashed, accompanied by a sulphurous odour which almost choked them.
There was no shelter but the trees of the forest, and the fire was put
out at once, leaving these half-starved wretches to shiver and shake
with ague all through the afternoon and up to midnight.