CHAPTER XIII

THE BRETHREN OF THE MAIN

Although from the time that handful of refugees took Tortuga from the

Spaniards the island was nominally French, yet it was ever, to all

intents and purposes, buccaneer. Even the governors, appointed by

France, were in hearty sympathy with the freebooters and were no better

than their fellows. Moreover, the inhabitants of the isle were not by

any means all French. Attracted by the freedom of the place, the

opportunities for the semi-wild life of buccanning, in its original

sense, and the chances of “emprizing,” as they put it, against the

Dons, adventurous souls from far and near flocked to Tortuga.

Principally they were English or French, but there were not a few

Dutch, a number of Portuguese, a sprinkling of Spanish, and an endless

number of mixed breeds and men without any definite country. But, once

in Tortuga, all differences of blood, religion, and profession, as well

as of social status, were cast aside and forgotten, and they became

once and for all buccaneers, [8] bound together as “Brethren of the

Main.” And, curious as it may seem, these men, although absolutely

unprincipled and ruthless where others were concerned, were marvelously

honest and square among themselves, and with the Indians with whom they

came in contact. Of course this was a case of necessity rather than of

choice, for they realized that only by faithfulness and integrity with

one another could they succeed, and that the Indians were essential to

them, as pilots, hunters, fishermen, and guides. It is also a fact,

although lurid fiction and stories by those who know little or nothing

of buccaneer history would have us believe otherwise, that as a rule

these pirates were far more humane in their treatment of prisoners than

the regular soldiery and naval forces of their day. But, like their

dealings with the Indians, this consideration for their enemies and

captives was to the buccaneers’ advantage. They well knew, “by divers

experiences,” that unless they gave quarter to their prisoners and

released captives upon payment of ransom their own fellows would be put

to torture and the sword when captured by the Spaniards. Moreover,

through the gratitude of prisoners whom they spared, or even aided, the

pirates gained much valuable information,—far more, in fact, than

through torture,—and on more than one occasion the buccaneers who fell

into the Dons’ hands were treated courteously and were even helped on

their way by those who had received similar treatment from the

freebooters.

Of course there were exceptions to this. Such men as Montbars, Morgan,

Lolonais, and a few others seemed to glory in torture and murder, and

proved themselves fiends incarnate; and it was the deeds committed by

such men that gave the reputation for bloodthirstiness to all. In

addition, after the buccaneers had scattered and were no longer an

organized body, but carried on their piratical ventures as individuals

and were hunted by all nations, they deteriorated and became mere

pirates, who robbed and killed friend and foe with equal impartiality.

When the buccaneers first came into being, and for many years

thereafter, France and England were at war with Spain, and so raids and

attacks upon the Dons were considered legal warfare, and even long

after peace was established between the powers the buccaneers preyed

only upon their hereditary enemies the Spaniards. But as time passed

and the authorities, in order to preserve peace, were compelled to

apprehend and hang the most notorious of the buccaneers, the remainder

looked upon every peaceful man as their enemy and considered legitimate

prey every ship they could overpower. They burned, sacked, and

destroyed whenever opportunity offered, regardless of flag or

nationality.

At first the buccaneers were compelled to make their raids in small

boats,—bateaux and pirogues, or dugout canoes,—for they had no ships of

their own. But this handicap did not deter them in the least. The fact

that a contemplated prize was a great galleon bristling with guns and

swarming with armed men did not discourage them, but rather made them

the more keen to take her. Manning their little craft, the buccaneers

pulled or paddled or sailed toward their prey, steering in such a way

as to avoid the heaviest fire of the enemy’s guns (and it must be

remembered that with the clumsy, short-range, far from accurate cannon

of those days a moving small boat was a difficult mark to hit), and

meantime keeping up a steady fusillade of small arms. Literally walking

arsenals, trained marksmen, and accustomed to hunting wild cattle, the

pirates usually succeeded in killing the helmsman of the enemy’s ship,

as well as many of the gunners. Running under the vessel’s stern, they

would make fast, wedge the rudder of their prize, and with knives in

teeth swarm up chains and rigging and pour over the rail like a pack of

fiends. Nothing could withstand the onslaught of this savage crew, who,

yelling and cursing, poured over the bulwarks, cutlass in one hand,

pistol in the other, and shooting, slashing, and thrusting like madmen,

oblivious of wounds, regardless of death, hacked and slew and seemed to

be everywhere at once.

It was thus that Sharp and his men took the Spanish fleet and came into

possession of The Most Blessed Trinity in the harbor of Panama, and the

annals of the buccaneers are filled with similar deeds. The ship in

their hands, as a rule they either put the ordinary survivors of the

battle ashore or set them adrift in a boat, retained the captain and

his officers as prisoners for ransom, and took possession of any women

who might be aboard.

Having by such means secured seaworthy sailing-vessels, the buccaneers

were able to extend operations, and after eliminating the fancy

gilt-work and lofty stern castles, the luxuriant fittings, and all

unnecessary gear of their prizes, they would man them with crews of

several hundred each and set forth on their forays.

They seldom built ships of their own, but by selecting the handiest and

swiftest of their prizes and rerigging and refitting them to suit their

own special needs, they gradually accumulated a fleet of ships which

were noted for speed and stanchness. Moreover, the larger vessels were

seldom used. The pirates required craft which could dodge among reefs

and slip through shoal waters where the big men-of-war could not

follow, and it was only now and then that a buccaneer ship carried more

than eight guns, the usual number being four or six. The pirates

depended more upon seamanship and marksmanship than mere weight of

metal or thundering broadsides, although on some of their later and

larger enterprises they used ships carrying forty guns or more.

When we consider the heterogeneous character of their crews, and the

varied antecedents and training of those who made up their number, it

is not surprising that the corsairs succeeded against tremendous odds.

In addition to the true Tortugan hunters and buccaneers there were

logwood-cutters from the Central American coast and the bay islands,

ex-soldiers and sailors, Indians, criminals from prisons and gaols,

outlaws and bandits—all men who were trained in the use of arms, of

immense physical strength and endurance, with an extraordinary power to

undergo hunger, thirst, and other hardships, and with an utter

disregard for death or bodily suffering.

The strangest part of it was that this riffraff of adventurers was

amenable to discipline. When afloat or on one of their forays they

obeyed their leaders implicitly and were true to them even in the face

of torture or death. They never betrayed their comrades, would risk

their lives to help another buccaneer, and would share their last

centavo or their rags with a Brother of the Main at any time.

Another interesting fact is that these buccaneers were the inventors of

life and accident insurance, or we might better say employees’

compensation laws. Before starting on a cruise they made their

preparations in a most efficient way and provided for all

contingencies.

When a pirate leader decided that it was time to go a-pirating he would

give out word of his intention and call for volunteers, each man who

presented himself for the venture being supposed to bring his own arms,

ammunition, and supplies. The next step was to provide food for the

voyage, and the buccaneers, seeing no reason to use their own resources

for the purchase of supplies which could be had for the taking,

thereupon made a sortie against the nearest Spanish possession, held up

and robbed a few corrals, and, buccanning the cattle and swine thus

economically acquired, stocked the commissary department. The next step

was to arrange shares of the prospective loot, and to draw up articles

in writing very particularly setting forth the sum each man was to

receive for his services, said sum to be taken from the “common stock”

as it was called, or, in other words, the total value of prizes and

loot secured; for their unalterable rule was “No prey, no pay.”

First it was settled by vote what the captain was to receive for his

services or the use of his ship (for very often the skipper was merely

the owner of the vessel and was no navigator), then what the salaries

of the other men, such as the carpenter, the steward, the gunners, the

surgeon, were to be. Then it was agreed that the provisions and liquors

should be paid for, recompense being given the individuals who had

secured them. Finally came the matter of insurance, and a very complete

schedule was drawn up, with exact provisions for payment for nearly

every form of injury or wound. This varied somewhat according to the

danger of the undertaking, but as a rule it was about six hundred

pieces of eight for the loss of a right arm; five hundred pieces of

eight for a left arm; the same for a right leg; four hundred for a left

leg; one hundred pieces of eight for an eye, the same for a finger, and

one thousand for total disability or death. In every case slaves might

be taken in lieu of cash, the value of slaves, either white or black,

male or female, being fixed at one hundred pieces of eight each. It was

also provided that after the payment of all the aforesaid “salaries,”

refunds, and compensations the remainder of the loot should be equally

divided among the survivors of the expedition, with the exception of

the captain and other officers, the former always receiving five or six

shares to each share of the men, and the others in proportion.

In addition to all this, each member of the company was compelled to

take a solemn oath (not infrequently signed in blood) not to conceal,

hide, or keep anything for himself, to turn all loot into the common

fund, and to abide by the articles of agreement, obey his leaders, and

not desert. The penalty for violation of this oath varied all the way

from death to being marooned, forfeiting a share in the plunder, or

being drummed out of the Brethren, according to the extent of the

delinquent’s offense.

Seldom, however, was it necessary to inflict any of these punishments,

for it was extremely rare for a buccaneer to violate his oath or break

his promises. It was largely this remarkable loyalty, this honor among

themselves, their wonderful organization, their supreme confidence in

their leaders, that enabled the buccaneers successfully to engage

trained troops outnumbering them ten to one, to storm and take

supposedly impregnable fortresses, and to sack towns in the heart of

the enemy’s country. To be sure, the prominent members of the

brotherhood were born leaders, able executives, men of almost

superhuman bravery and physical strength; in almost any legitimate

undertaking they would have succeeded as well as in their chosen

profession of piracy, and their personal courage and magnetism caused

their followers to look upon them almost as demigods. The buccaneers

would flock by thousands to the call of Mansvelt, Pierre le Grand,

Michael le Basque, Alexandre, John Davis, Lolonais, De Graaf, or

Morgan, and, regardless of how perilous the undertaking in hand, would

follow them through untold horrors and sufferings, through hunger and

thirst, through blood and fire; laughing at death, jeering at

privations, and faithful to the last. To be sure, they were men to whom

fighting and pillage were as the very breath of life, and in those

days, when a man’s life was valued at only one thousand pieces of eight

(approximately one thousand dollars), the bait was large enough to

warrant any one taking long chances. Not infrequently a successful

foray would result in so vast an amount of loot that when the prizes

were divided even the common sailors would receive as much as five

thousand pieces of eight as their share for a few weeks’ work. The

purchasing power of such a sum was then equivalent to about a quarter

of a million at the present time. We can readily imagine what risks men

of the rough, buccaneer type would take to-day, what hardships they

would undergo, and what atrocities they would be willing to commit with

a reward of quarter of a million dollars dangling before their eyes,

and with virtually no risk of punishment for their actions.

Moreover, the great buccaneer leaders rose almost without exception

from the rank and file, by sheer force of character as well as through

savagery and cruelty, and very often they were chosen by popular vote

of the men. Roche or Rock Brasiliano, a German by birth, who was given

his nickname because he had lived long in Brazil, was thus elected

captain by men who with him deserted their ship after a disagreement

with their commander. Within a few days, this fellow who hitherto had

been an inconspicuous sailor succeeded in taking a great Spanish

galleon and a vast amount of loot. This at once gave him prestige as a

leader, and followers flocked to his standard. But Brasiliano was a

degenerate and brutal rascal, who, in the words of Esquemelling (who

served under him) “had no good behavior or government over himself in

his domestic or private affairs and would oftentimes show himself

brutal or foolish, running up and down the streets in drink, beating

and wounding whom he met.” A most unpleasant personage to have about,

even in a buccaneer town! His cruelty was such as even to bring

protests from his fellow pirates, his favorite pastime being to roast

prisoners alive on revolving spits over slow fires. But he was

undeniably brave, and on one occasion, when shipwrecked on the coast of

Yucatan and marching overland with less than thirty survivors from his

ill-fated ship, Brasiliano and his men attacked and routed over one

hundred Spanish cavalrymen. Taking possession of the Dons’ horses, they

continued on their way, and made themselves masters of the Spanish

fleet riding to anchor off the coast of Campeche. Brasiliano was a

resourceful scoundrel, and when later he was cast into a dungeon after

being captured during an espionage tour of the city of Campeche, which

he planned to take, he won his freedom by sending the Spanish governor

a letter purporting to come from the commandant of a buccaneer flotilla

and threatening dire vengeance if the prisoner were not instantly

released.

John Davis, a native Jamaican, also was elected captain and later

admiral of the buccaneers because of his signal bravery as a common

mariner. His most noteworthy venture was the sacking of San Juan,

Nicaragua, and the taking of over fifty thousand dollars’ worth of

loot. Later he attacked and sacked St. Augustine, Florida, without the

loss of a man. Moreover, Davis, according to his historians, was a

gentlemanly rascal and very “kind and considerate even when in his

cups,” a decided contrast to Brasiliano in this respect.

Probably the most atrociously cruel of the buccaneers who made Tortuga

their home was Francis L’Ollonais (usually spelled Lolonais), who, born

in France, was sold as a slave in the West Indies, and, escaping,

reached the French settlement at Tortuga. Like Brasiliano and others,

Lolonais was for some time an ordinary seaman, but his daring and

ability attracted the attention of Governor de la Place, who provided

the promising young pirate with a ship and grub-staked him in the gay

game of buccaneering. For a time Lolonais was extremely lucky and took

ship after ship and sacked town after town successfully, meanwhile

piling up a comfortable fortune for himself and his sponsor, Monsieur

de la Place. But the inhumanities he practised were so unspeakable that

even his own men became disgusted with him. Moreover, his fortunes

turned, and after he had lost his ship on the coast of Yucatan his men

were routed and he himself was seriously wounded. Eventually, however,

by marching overland, he reached Campeche, entered the city in

disguise, secured the services of a few slaves, and in a small boat

returned to Tortuga. Here he equipped an expedition and sailed for

Maracaibo, which he took and held for over two months, finally

departing, after having committed every form of atrocity and

abomination, with booty valued at more than half a million dollars.

Thus having recouped his fortunes and again established himself in the

favor of his fellows and the governor, this “most execrable scoundrel,”

as Esquemelling calls him, set sail to ravish the coasts of Cuba and

Central America. For a time he succeeded beyond all expectations,

taking countless ships and towns, his blood-lust and cruelty ever

increasing with his victories. He had, in fact, become a veritable

monster in human form, no doubt actually insane, until his men openly

expostulated. The culmination came when, in Honduras, marching on

Puerto Caballos, Lolonais took a number of Spanish prisoners, whom he

questioned regarding the routes to the city. Being dissatisfied with

the replies, he flew into a passion and, seizing one of the prisoners,

he slashed open the fellow’s breast with his cutlass, tore out his

still living heart, and began to bite and gnaw at it with his teeth,

like a ravenous beast. Shortly after this cannibalistic exhibition of

his fury he was again shipwrecked, losing all the booty he had won and

many of his men. Nothing daunted, Lolonais prepared to build a

long-boat in which to continue his depredations. At the mouth of the

San Juan River in Nicaragua he was attacked by Spaniards and Indians,

and most of his surviving men were killed. Defeated for the first time,

he decided to go southward and attack Cartagena, depending, as was the

custom of the buccaneers, upon securing canoes and provisions from the

Kuna Indians of Darien. But so utterly despicable had he been that even

the savage Kunas had turned against him. To quote Esquemelling once

more:

Hither L’Ollonais came (being rather brought by his evil conscience

that cried for punishment of his crimes) thinking to act in this

country his former cruelties. But the Indians within a few days

after his arrival took him prisoner and tore him to pieces alive,

throwing his body limb by limb into the fire and his ashes into the

air, to the intent no trace or memory might remain of such an

infamous inhuman creature. Thus ended the life and history and

miserable death of that infernal wretch L’Ollonais who, full of

horrid, execrable and enormous deeds, and also debtor to so much

innocent blood, died by cruel and butcherly hands, such as his own

were in the course of his life.

Surely, when a fellow pirate and one of his own companions penned such

an indictment, we may safely consider Lolonais the most outrageous

rascal who ever scourged the Spanish Main.

It was owing partly to the inhuman methods of the French buccaneers,

such as Lolonais, partly to jealousies and the fact that the French

were favored, partly to natural distrust and dislike for one another,

and partly to more or less loyalty to their own governments, that the

British pirates and the French freebooters of Tortuga began to quarrel.

At first it was merely a matter of brawls among the men, but gradually

the breach widened; armed parties of French and British clashed, riots

took place, and at last open antagonism broke out and the French,

outnumbering the English, in 1641 drove their erstwhile allies from the

island. Scattering about the Caribbean, the English freebooters

established themselves here and there among the Virgin Islands, on the

Bay Islands, in Samana Bay, and elsewhere, until in 1654, when Penn and

Venables sought to take Jamaica from Spain, they rallied under the

British ensign and joined the navy of their king.

It was largely owing to the part the English buccaneers took in this

concerted attack on Jamaica, in which they won the admiration of the

British admirals and officers for their courage and resourcefulness,

that Jamaica became a colony of the English crown. The acquisition of

this island by the British provided the English buccaneers with a base

for their operations and a safe refuge, and for many years Jamaica—or,

rather Port Royal, its chief port—became the most notorious resort of

the pirates.

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