CONQUEST OF PANAMA.
March from Chagres--Famine--Ambuscade of Indians--Wild bulls driven
down upon them--Victory--Battle of the Forts--Takes the City--Burns
part of it--Cruelties--Debauchery--Retreat with prisoners--Virtue of
the Spanish prisoner, and her sufferings--Ransom--Division of
booty--Treason of Morgan--Escapes by night to Jamaica--Dispersion of
the Fleet--Morgan's subsequent fate.
The bodies of their comerades, who had died that they who survived might
conquer, were buried, not without some tears even from these rude men,
in large (plague pit) graves, dug by the prisoners. The women were
violated in the first fury of the sack. During their plunder they found
a great quantity of provisions and ammunitions stored up for the use of
the fleet. Their next act was to repair the fort and render it tenable.
Morgan, instantly informed of the fall of Chagres, did not remain long
behind. Having first collected all the Indian wheat and cassava he could
carry, he embarked his prisoners and provisions, taking with him Don
Joseph Ramirez de Leiba, the governor, and the chief officers. The
cannon he spiked or threw into the sea, in places where he might recover
them, intending to return and fortify the place, as a stronghold if his
design on Panama failed. The forts, and church, and house he fired, with
the exception of the castle of Santa Teresa.
In sailing to Chagres a storm arose and dispersed his vessels, keeping
them many days at sea. The admiral, always watchful in danger, suffered
himself for a moment to sleep in the hour of prosperity. When he
approached the river mouth and saw the English flag floating from the
blackened walls, he could not restrain the heedless joy of his crew--not
waiting for the pilot canoe that was putting out to warn them of their
danger, he drove on the sunken rock at the foot of the castle hill. His
own and three other vessels sank, yet the crews and cargoes were all
saved, and but for a strong "norther" the ships themselves would have
been preserved.
Brought into the castle with acclamations and hearty congratulations at
his escape, Morgan employed the Spanish prisoners from St. Catherine's
in repairing the palisading of the fort, carefully destroying all
thatched sheds for fear of fire. He then chose a garrison by lot, and
divided the stores. He heard with delight the details of the victory,
and lamented the absent dead and the many brave men that had shared so
often his own hopes and fears. His next movement was to seize some
_chatten_, or small Spanish vessels that were still in the river. They
were small craft that went to and fro between Chagres and Porto Bello,
or Nicaragua, or plied with merchandise up and down the river. They
mounted six guns, two iron, and four small brass, and were navigated by
six men. He also took four small frigates of fourteen and eight guns,
and all the canoes he could lay hands on, requiring them for the
expedition. He left behind him 100 men, under command of Captain Le
Maurice, and 150 men to guard the ships.
For Panama, Morgan took with him 1300 of the best armed and the most
robust of his band, five boats with artillery, and thirty-two canoes. He
imprudently carried little provisions, expecting to obtain plenty from
the Spaniards they should kill in the ambuscades. In spite of the recent
victory, and of Morgan's certainty of conquest, many of the Buccaneers
were less sanguine than on former expeditions. The Spanish prisoners had
succeeded in alarming them by rumours of the dangers and intricacy of
the road, and the ambuscades that had been two months in preparation.
Some, more superstitious than the rest, thought the wreck of Morgan's
ship, and the severe loss at Chagres, bad omens for their success at
Panama. But these were mocked at by the rest, as white-livered, and
Morgan having divided the provisions between the garrison and the St.
Catherine prisoners, reviewed his men, and examined himself their arms
and ammunition. He quieted their fears and spoke of victory as already
obtained. He exhorted them to show more than usual courage, in order to
return as soon as possible rich and glorious to Jamaica. With a shout of
"Long live the King of England, and long live Henry Morgan," they began
their march towards the doomed city on the 18th of January, 1670.
The first day they advanced only six leagues to Rio de los Bracos, where
they got out of their canoes to sleep on shore, being crippled with
overcrowding in the boats. They could have brought no provisions, for
few had any food that day, but a pipe of tobacco "to stop the orifice of
the stomach." They could find nothing in the deserted plantations, where
even the unripe fruits had been plucked and the roots pulled up before
their arrival. The men longed to fight, in order that they might eat. By
noon of the next day they reached Cruz de Juan Gallego, where they were
obliged to leave their canoes; the river was very dry and shallow from
want of rain, and much impeded with fallen trees, but their hopes were
excited by the guide's intelligence, that about two leagues further the
roads grew better. Here they left their boats with 160 men to guard
them, as a resource in case of defeat, giving them strict injunctions
not to land for fear of ambuscades in the neighbouring woods, which were
so thick as to seem impenetrable. Finding the forest almost impassable,
Morgan ordered a few of the canoes to be rowed, though with immense
labour, to a place called Cedro Bueno, further up the river, taking half
the men at a time and returning for the rest, so by nightfall all the
men were once more united. From discovering no ambuscades, in spite of
all the wishes of these hungry soldiers, it was supposed that the
Spanish spies, willing to avoid a fight, had frightened their officers
by exaggerating the number of the adventurers. On the third day Morgan
sent forward some guides, who could find no road, the country being
flat, inundated, and marshy. The men, who had scarcely eaten anything
since their departure, grew faint and hungry, and a few of them
gathered the leaves from the forest trees. It being night before they
could pass the river, they slept on the bank, exposed, half-clothed as
they were, to the tropical damps and cold.
The fourth day's march they advanced in divisions; the largest went by
land, the smaller in canoes. The guides were always kept two musket
shots in advance, to give notice of ambuscades, and in hopes of
capturing stragglers who might furnish intelligence. But the Spaniards
had also scouts, very wary, and very "dexterous" in giving notice of all
accidents, frequently bringing the Panama men intelligence of the
Buccaneers' approach six hours before the enemy arrived. About noon the
army reached a post named Torna Cavallos, so called probably from the
roughness of the road, and at this spot the guide of the canoes cried
out that he saw an ambuscade. With infinite joy, the hungry men,
thirsting for blood, flew to arms, knowing that the Spaniards always
went luxuriously provided with food, and knowing that a dead Spaniard
could want no more provender. As soon as they came within sight of the
entrenchment, which was shaped like a half-moon, and the palisading
formed of entire trees, they uttered a dreadful shout, and, driven on by
rage and hunger, began to race like starved wolves, seeing which could
first cross swords with the enemy, whom they believed to be about 400
strong. But their hearts fell within them when they found the place a
mere deserted rampart, and all the provisions, but a few crumbs which
lay scattered about, either burnt or carried off. Some leather bags lay
here and there, as if left in a hasty retreat. Enraged at this, they at
once pulled down the Spanish huts, and cutting the leather bags, tore
them up for food. Quarrels then arose for the largest messes, but before
they could well finish this unsavoury banquet, the drum sounded for the
march. About 500 Spaniards seem to have held these entrenchments, and
many of the men threatened to devour the first fugitive they could meet
with. About night they reached another deserted ambuscade, called Torna
Munni, equally bare of food, and the remainder of the bags were now
devoured. Those fortunate enough to obtain a strip first soaked slices
of it in water, next beat it between two stones, then scraped off the
hair with their hunters' knives, and, roasting it in the fire, ate it
leisurely in small pieces. "I can assure the reader," says Oexmelin,
"that a man can live on this fare, but he can hardly get _very fat_."
Frequent draughts of water (which, by good fortune, they had at hand)
seasoned this not very palatable food of men accustomed to revel on
venison and brandy. "Some who were never out of their mothers'
kitchens," says Esquemeling, "may ask how these pirates could eat and
digest those pieces of leather, so hard and dry, whom I answer, that
could they once experience what hunger, or rather famine, is, they would
find the way as the pirates did."
The fifth day at noon they arrived at a place called Barbacoa, where
there were more deserted barricades, and the adjacent plantations were
equally bare of either man, animal, or plant. Searching with all the
zeal and perseverance of hungry men, they found at last, buried in the
floor of a cave lately hewn out of the rock, two sacks of flour, two
jars of wine, and some plantains, and Morgan generously divided these
among the most exhausted of his troops, some being now nearly dead with
famine. The flour they mixed with water, and, wrapping the dough in
banana leaves, baked it in the fire. Somewhat refreshed, they renewed
their march with increased skill and vigour. The lagging men they placed
in the canoes, till they reached at night some deserted plantations
known as the Tabernillas, where they slept.
On the sixth day they marched slowly, after resting a time from real
weakness, some of the strongest being sent into the woods to pluck
berries and pull roots, many even eating leaves and grass. The same day
at noon they arrived at a plantation. Eagerly foraging here, but not
expecting to find anything, they turned a little from the road, and came
upon a barn full of maize in the husk. Beating down the door, they fell
upon it and devoured it as rapaciously as a herd of swine, till they
fell off satiated. A distribution was then made of it to each man, for
hunger does not care for cooking. Loaded with this grain they continued
their march in high spirits for about two hours, when they came suddenly
on about 200 Indians, and soon after passed a deserted ambuscade. Those
who had maize still left threw it away, thinking that the Spaniards and
better food were at hand. These archers were on the opposite side of the
river. The Buccaneers, firing, killed a few, and pursued the others as
far as Santa Cruz. The nimblest escaped by swimming, and two or three
adventurers, who waded after them, were pierced with arrows at the ford.
The Indians, as they fled, hooted--"Ah perros Ingleses, a la savanah, a
la savanah:" "_English dogs, English dogs, come to the savannah._"
Passing the river they were now compelled to begin their march on the
opposite side. There was little sleep that night, but great dejection,
and murmurs arose against Captain Morgan and his conduct. He was blamed
for not having brought provisions, and for not having yet met the
Spaniards; condemned for irreconcilable errors, and reviled for even his
past successes. Some declared they would return home, others would
willingly have done so, yet were afraid to retreat; but a large party
declared they would rather die than go back a step. One of the guides,
perhaps bribed by Morgan, promised that it should not be long before
they met with people from whom they should derive no small advantage,
and this comforted them. A tinge of superstition would have soon
converted this into one of those prophecies by which Cromwell and Cortes
both consoled their desponding troopers.
On the seventh morning, expecting enemies, the men all cleaned their
arms, and every one discharged his musket and pistols without ball to
let the Spaniards hear they were coming, and that their ammunition was
not damaged. Leaving Santa Cruz, where they had rested, they crossed the
river in their canoes, and arrived at the town of Cruz.
At some distance from Cruz they had beheld to their great joy a great
smoke rising above the roofs, which they thought arose from kitchen
chimneys, and quickening their pace they began to laugh, and shout, and
leap,--joking at the Spanish waste of fuel, and saying, "the Spanish
cooks are roasting meat for our dinner when we have mastered their
masters;" but as the smoke grew thicker, they began to think that the
enemy were burning some houses that interfered with the fire of the
entrenchments.
Two hours after, on arriving panting and hot at Cruz, they found the
place deserted and stripped, and no meat, but many fires, for every
Spaniard had burnt his own house, and only the royal store-house and
stables were left standing. A few crackling ruins were all that remained
of the great halfway house between Chagres and Panama, for here the
Chagres merchandise was always landed and transported to Panama on the
backs of mules, being distant only twenty-six Spanish leagues from the
river of Chagres, and eight from Panama. The disappointed Buccaneers
spent the remainder of the day at Cruz in seeking food and resting.
Every cat and dog was soon killed and eaten, for the cattle had been all
driven off. Morgan, growing now more strict in discipline, gave orders
that no party of less than 100 men should leave the town. Five or six
Englishmen who disobeyed the order were killed by the Indians. In the
king's stables fifteen or sixteen jars of Peruvian wine were found, and
a leather sack full of biscuit. Morgan, afraid that his men would fall
into excesses, spread a report that the Spaniards had poisoned the
wine--a report confirmed by the violent sickness of all who drank of it;
although half-starved men, fed for a week on vegetable refuse, would
have been injured by any excess. It was, however, eagerly drunk, and
would have been had there been death in every cup. This sickness
detained them a day at Cruz. The canoes, being now useless, were sent
back, guarded by sixty men, to join the other boats, one alone being hid
in a thicket for fear of any emergency or any necessity arising, and to
transmit intelligence to the vessels. He feared that, if left at Cruz,
they might be captured, and would at least require an extra guard.
On the eighth day at morning Morgan reviewed his troop, and found he had
1100 able and resolute men still at his back. He persuaded them that
their comerade who was carried off by the Indians had returned, having
only lost his way in the woods, fearing they might be discouraged at his
disappearance. He then chose a band of the best marksmen as a forlorn
hope, and a "hundred of these men," says Oexmelin, "are worth six hundred
of any other nation." He divided the remainder into a van and wings,
knowing that he should have to pass many places where not more than two
men could pass abreast.
After ten hours' march they arrived at a place called _Quebrada
Obscura_, a dark wooded gorge where the sunlight rarely entered. Here,
on a sudden, a shower of 300 or 400 arrows poured down upon them,
killing eight or nine men, and wounding ten. These arrows came from an
Indian ambuscade hid on a wooded and rocky mountain, perforated by a
natural arch, through which only one laden beast could pass. The
Buccaneers, though they could see nothing but rocks and trees, instantly
returned the fire, and two Indians rolled down into the path. One of
these, who appeared to be a chief, for he wore a coronet of variegated
feathers, attempted to stab an English adventurer with his javelin, but
a companion, parrying the thrust with his sabre, slew the Indian. This
brave man was, it is supposed, the leader of the ambuscade, for the
savages seeing him fall took at once to flight, and never discharged
another shaft. As they entered a wood the rest of the Indians fled to
seize the next height, from whence they might observe them and harass
their march. The Buccaneers found them too swift to capture, and pursued
them in vain: but two or three of the wounded fugitives were found dead
in the road. A few armed and disciplined men could have made this pass
good against a hundred, but these Indians were now scattered and without
a leader, and they had only fired at random, and in haste, through
trees and thickets that intercepted their arrows. On leaving this defile
the Buccaneers entered a broad prairie, where they rested while the
wounded were tended. At a long distance before them they could see the
Indians on a rocky eminence, commanding the road where they must pass.
Fifty active men were dispatched to take them in the rear in the hopes
of obtaining some prisoners, but all in vain, for the Indians were not
only more agile but knew all the passes. Two hours after they were seen
at about two gunshots' distance, on the same eminence from which they
had been just driven, while the Buccaneers were now on an opposite
height, and between them lay a wood. The Buccaneers supposed that a
Spanish ambuscade was hid here, for whenever they came near enough the
Indians cried out "A la savanah, a la savanah, cornudos perros
Ingleses:" "To the savannah, to the savannah, you cuckold English dogs."
Morgan sent 100 men to search this wood, and upon this the Spaniards and
Indians came down from the mountain as if to attack them, but appeared
no more.
About night, a great rain falling, the Buccaneers marched faster, in
order to prevent their arms getting wet, but they could find no houses
to barrack in, for the Indians had burnt them all and driven away the
cattle, hoping to starve out the men whom they could not drive out. They
left the main road after diligent search, and found a few shepherds'
huts, but too few to shelter all their company; they therefore piled
their arms, and chose a small number from each company to guard them.
Those who slept in the open air endured much hardship, the rain not
ceasing all night. They made temporary sheds, which they covered with
boughs, in order to sleep under a shelter, however imperfect; and
sentinels were placed, Morgan being afraid of the Indians, who chose wet
nights for their onslaughts, when fire-arms were often useless.
Next morning very early, being the ninth of their tedious journey, they
recommenced their march, Morgan bidding them all discharge their guns
and then reload them, for fear of the wet having damped the powder. The
fresh air of the morning, clear after the storm, was still about them,
and the clouds had not yet yielded to the tropical sun as they pushed on
over a path more difficult than before. In about two hours' time a band
of twenty Spaniards began to appear in the distance, and the Indians
were also visible, but Morgan could obtain no prisoners, though he
offered a reward of 300 crowns for every Spaniard brought in. When
pursued the enemy hid themselves in caves and eluded all search.
At last, toiling slowly up a high mountain, the adventurers unexpectedly
beheld from the top the South Sea glittering in the distance. This
caused them as great joy as the sight of "Thalatta" did to the soldiers
of Xenophon. They thought their expedition now completed, for to them
victory was a certainty. They could discern upon the sea, never before
beheld, a large ship and six small boats setting forth from Panama to
the islands of Tavoga and Tavogilla, which were only six leagues
distant. Fortune smiled upon them to-day, for, descending this
mountain, they came into a grassy prairie valley, full of all sorts of
cattle, which were being pursued by mounted Spaniards, who fled at the
sight of the Buccaneers. Upon these animals Morgan's men rushed with the
avidity of half-starved hunters, the eagerness of sailors to obtain
fresh meat, and all the haste that brave men exhibit to get at an enemy.
One shot a horse, another felled a cow, but the greater part slaughtered
the mules, which were the most numerous. Some kindled fires, others
collected wood, and the strongest hunted the cattle, while the invalids
slew, and skinned, and flayed. The whole plain was soon alight with a
hundred fires. The hungry men cut off lumps of flesh, carbonadoed them
in the flame, and ate them half raw with incredible haste and ferocity.
"They resembled," Esquemeling says, "rather cannibals than Christians,
the blood running down their beards to the middle of their bodies." But
no hunger, no fear, no passion threw Morgan off his guard. Hungry and
weary himself, and sympathising with his men's hunger, he saw the
danger of this reckless gluttony, which produced a reaction of inertness
as dangerous as intoxication. Dreading surprise, for he was surrounded
by enemies, he beat a false alarm, and seizing their arms, his men,
ashamed of their excess, renewed their march. The remainder of the meat,
half-roasted or quite raw, they strung to their bandoliers. "The very
look of these men," says Esquemeling, "was enough to have terrified the
boldest, for we know that in love as well as war, the eyes are the
soonest conquered." Morgan, anxious at not having yet obtained a
prisoner as guide, again despatched a vanguard of fifty men, who about
evening saw in the distance 500 Spaniards, who shouted to them they knew
not what.
Soon after, almost at dusk, mounting a small eminence, they saw a better
sight than even the South Sea--the highest steeples of Panama, bright in
the sunset; upon this, like the German soldiers at the sight of the
Rhine, the Buccaneers gave three cheers, to show their extreme joy,
leaping and shouting, and throwing their hats into the air as if they
had already won the victory. At the same time the drums beat stormily
and proudly, and each man shot off his piece, while the red flag was
displayed and waved in defiance of the Spaniard, and high above all the
trumpet sounded.
The camp was pitched for the night by the men, who waited impatiently
for the morning when the battle should join; with equal pride and
courage 200 mounted Spaniards shouted in return as they dashed up within
musket shot, "To-morrow, to-morrow, ye dogs, we shall meet in the
savannah;" and as they ended, their trumpet sounded clearer than even
that of Morgan's. These horsemen were soon joined by several companies
of infantry and several squadrons of cavalry, who wheeled round them
within cannon shot. These troops had been despatched when the sounds of
the Buccaneers' approach reached the gates of the city. There were still
two hours of light, but Morgan determined not to fight till early in the
morning, when he might be able to move freely in the unknown country,
and when there would be a whole clear, bright day for the battle. As
night drew on all the Spaniards retired to the city, excepting seven or
eight troopers, who hovered about to watch the enemy's motions and give
the alarm, if a night attack was contemplated. On his side Morgan placed
double sentinels, and every now and then ordered false alarms to be beat
to keep his men on the alert. Those who had any meat left ate it raw, as
they had often done when hunters. No fires were allowed to be kindled,
and the men lying, ready armed, on the grass, waited eagerly for the
daylight. 120 cavaliers again joined the Spanish scouts, and affected to
maintain a strict blockade, and the city all night played with its
biggest guns upon the camp, but being at so great a distance did little
harm to the Buccaneers.
At daybreak of the tenth day of their march the Spaniards beat the
_Diane_, and Morgan, replying heartily, began with great eagerness to
push forward to the city, the Spaniards wheeling cautiously around his
wings. One of the guides warned Morgan against the high road, which he
knew would be blocked up and crowded with ambuscades, and the army
defiled into a wood to the right, where the passage was so difficult
that none but Buccaneers could have forced a way, "very irksome indeed,"
says Esquemeling. The Spaniards, completely baffled and astonished by
this diversion, left their batteries in a hurry, and, without any
distinct plan of attack, crowded out into the plain. After two hours'
march the Buccaneers reached the top of a small hill. From this eminence
they could now see their goal, and Panama, with all the roofs that hid
its treasure, lay before them. Below, on the plain, they might also
discern the Spanish army drawn up in battalia, awaiting their descent.
Even Esquemeling admits that the forces seemed numerous. "There were two
squadrons of cavalry, four regiments of foot, and a still more terrible
enemy, a huge number of wild bulls, roaring and tossing their horns,
driven by a great number of Indians, and a few negroes and mounted
matadors." The historian, more truthful in his confessions than his
boasts, says, "They were surprised with fear, much doubting the fortune
of the day; yea, few or none there were but wished themselves at home,
or at least free from the obligation of that engagement, it so nearly
concerning their lives. Having been for some time wavering in their
minds, they at last reflected on the strait they had brought themselves
into, and that now they must either fight resolutely or die, for no
quarter could be expected from an enemy on whom they had committed so
many cruelties. Hereupon they encouraged one another, resolving to
conquer or spend the last drop of their blood."
They then divided themselves into three battalions, sending before 200
Buccaneers, very dexterous at their guns, who descended the hill,
marching directly upon the Spaniards, and the battle closed. The Spanish
cavalry uttered cries of joy, as if they were going to a bull-fight. The
infantry shouted "Viva el rey!" and the vari-coloured silks of their
doublets glistened in the sun. The Buccaneers, giving three cheers,
charged upon the enemy. The forlorn hope Morgan despatched against the
cavalry and the bulls. The cavalry galloped forward to meet them, but,
the ground being marshy, they could not advance with speed, and sank one
by one before the unceasing dropping fire of 200 Buccaneers, who fell on
one knee and poured in a full volley of shot, the foot and horse in vain
trying to break through this hot line of flame and death. The bulls
proved as fatal to those who employed them, as the elephants to Porus.
Driven on the rear of the Buccaneers, they took fright at the noise of
the battle, a few only broke through the English companies, and trampled
the red colours under foot, but these were soon shot by the old hunters;
a few fled to the savannah, and the rest tore back and carried havoc
through the Spanish ranks.
The firing lasted for two hours; at the end of that time the cavalry and
infantry had separated, and the troopers had fled, only about fifty of
their number succeeding in escaping. The infantry, discouraged at their
defeat, and despairing of success, fired off one more volley, and then
threw down their arms; the victory was won. Morgan, having no cavalry,
could not pursue, and a mountain soon hid the fugitives from the
Buccaneers' sight, who would not follow, expecting the flight was a mere
decoy to lure them into an ambuscade. The Buccaneers, weary and faint,
threw themselves down to rest. A few Spaniards, found hiding in the
bushes by the sea-shore, were at once slain, and several cordeliers
belonging to the army, being dragged before Morgan, were pistolled in
spite of all their cries and entreaties. A Spanish captain of cavalry
was taken prisoner by the English musketeers, who had hitherto given no
quarter, and confessed that the governor of Panama had led out that
morning 2000 men, 200 bulls, 1450 horse, and twenty-four companies of
foot, 100 men in each, sixty Indians, and some negroes. In the city, he
said, were many trenches and batteries, and at the entrance a fort with
fifty men and eight brass guns. The women and wealth had all been sent
to Tavoga, and 600 men with twenty-eight pieces of cannon were inside
the town, defended by ramparts of flour sacks. The ambuscade had been
waiting fifteen days in the savannah, expecting Morgan.
On reviewing their men, the English found a much greater number of
killed and wounded than they had expected, so Esquemeling confesses, but
does not give the number. Oexmelin puts the loss at only two killed and
two wounded, an incredible statement, trustworthy as he generally is.
The Spaniards lost 600 men.
"The pirates, nothing discouraged," says the former historian, "seeing
their number so diminished, but rather filled with greater pride,
perceiving what huge advantage they had obtained against their enemies,
having rested some time, prepared to march courageously towards the
city, plighting their oaths one to another, that they would fight till
not a man was left alive. With this courage they recommenced their
march, either to conquer or be conquered, carrying with them all the
prisoners."
They avoided the high road from Vera Cruz, on which the Spaniards had
placed a battery of eight pieces of cannon, and selecting that from
Porto Bello, they advanced to the town before the people could rally,
and while the exaggerated rumours of the defeat were still
uncontradicted. Trembling fugitives filled the streets, and terror was
in every face.
The Spaniards fought desperately, but without hope. In spite of Morgan's
endeavour to maintain strict discipline, his men began to undervalue the
enemy, and to advance straggling and reckless. The Spaniards, observing
this, fired a broadside, killing twenty-five or thirty of the vanguard
at the first discharge, and wounding nearly as many, but before they
could reload were overpowered and slain at their guns, the Buccaneers
stabbing all whom they met.
Of this attack, Esquemeling gives the following graphic but rambling
account: "They found much difficulty in their approach to the city, for
within the town the Spaniards had placed many great guns at several
quarters, some charged with small pieces of iron, and others with musket
bullets. With all these they saluted the pirates at their approaching,
and gave them full and frequent broadsides, firing at them incessantly,
so that unavoidably they shot at every step great numbers of men. But
neither these manifest dangers of their lives, nor the sight of so many
as dropped continually at their sides, could deter them from advancing,
and gaining ground every moment on the enemy; and though the Spaniards
never ceased to fire and act the best they could for their defence, yet
they were forced to yield after three hours' combat, and the pirates
having possessed themselves, killed and destroyed all that attempted in
the least to oppose them."
Morgan was now master of Panama, as he had been of St. Catherine's, la
Rancheria, Maracaibo, and Gibraltar, but his vigilance did not yet
relax. As soon as the first fury of their entrance was over, he
assembled his men, and commanded them, under great penalties, not to
drink or taste any wine, as he had been informed by a prisoner that it
had been poisoned by the Spaniards. Though much wealth had been hidden,
great warehouses of merchandise, they rejoiced to find, were still well
stocked with silks, cloths, and linens. Morgan's only fear now was, that
with so small a body of men as remained to him, the Spaniards might
rally, or his men, grown intoxicated by success and intent on plunder,
be cut off without resistance. Having placed guards at all the important
points of defence within and without the city, he ordered twenty-five
men to seize a boat laden with merchandise, that owing to the low water
in the harbour could not put out to sea. The command of this vessel he
gave to an English captain.
The houses of Panama were built chiefly of cedar, and a few of stone.
Fortunately, Michael Scott sketches for us nearly the whole scenery of
Morgan's march. One side of the harbour of Chagres is formed, he says,
by a small promontory that runs 500 yards into the sea. This bright
little bay looks upon an opposite shore, long and muddy, and covered
with mangroves to the water's brink. On the uttermost bluff is a narrow
hill, with a fort erected on its apex. The rock is precipitous on three
sides. The river of Chagres is about 100 yards across, and very deep. It
rolls sluggishly along, through a low, swampy country. It is covered
down to the water with thick sedges and underwood, and where the water
is stagnating, generates mosquitoes and fevers. The gigantic trees grow
close to the water, and are laced together by black, snake-like withes.
Here and there, black, slimy banks of mud slope out near the shore, and
on these, monstrous alligators roll or sleep, like logs of rotting
drift-wood. For some miles below Cruz, where the river ceases to be
navigable by canoes, oars are laid aside, and long poles used to propel
the boats, like punts, over the shoals. Panama is distant about seven
leagues from Cruz. The roads are only passable for mules: in some places
it has been hewn out of the rock, and zig-zags along the face of hills,
in parts scarcely passable for two persons meeting.
"The scenery on each side is very beautiful, as the road winds for the
most part amongst steeps, overshadowed by magnificent trees, among
which birds of all sizes, and of the most gorgeous plumage, are
perpetually glancing, while a monkey every here and there sits grimacing
and chattering overhead. The small, open savannahs gradually grow
larger, and the clear spaces widen, until the forest you have been
travelling under breaks into beautiful clumps of trees, like those of a
gentleman's park, and every here and there are placed clear pieces of
water, spreading out full of pond-turtle, and short grass, that sparkles
in the dew."
As you approach the town, the open spaces become more frequent, until at
length you gain a rising ground, about three miles from Panama, where
the view is enchanting. Below lies the city, and the broad Pacific,
dotted with ships, lies broad and glassy beyond.
Basil Hall, an accurate but less poetical observer, sketches the bay of
Panama, its beach fringed with plantations shaded by groves of oranges,
figs, and limes, the tamarinds surmounting all but the feathery tops of
the cocoa-nut trees; the ground hidden with foliage, among which peep
cane-built huts and canoes pulling to shore. Tavoga he describes as a
tangle of trees and flowers. "The houses of the city, very curious and
magnificent," says Esquemeling, "and richly adorned with paintings and
hangings, of which a part only had been removed." The buildings were all
stately, and the streets broad and well arranged. There were within the
walls eight monasteries, a cathedral, and an hospital, attended by the
religious. The churches and monasteries were richly adorned with
paintings, and in the subsequent fire may have perished some of the
masterpieces of Titian, Murillo, or Velasquez. The gold plate and
fittings of these buildings the priests had concealed. The number of
rich houses was computed at 2000, and the smaller shops, &c., at 5000
additional. The grandest buildings in the town were the Genoese
warehouses connected with the slave trade; there were also long rows of
stables, where the horses and mules were kept that were used to convey
the royal plate from the South to the North Pacific Ocean. Before the
city, like offerings spread before a throne, lay rich plantations and
pleasant gardens.
Panama was the city to which all the treasures of Peru were annually
brought. The plate fleet, laden with bars of gold and silver, arrived
here at certain periods brimming with the crown wealth, as well as that
of private merchants. It returned laden with the merchandise of Panama
and the Spanish main, to be sold in Peru and Chili, and still oftener
with droves of negro slaves that the Genoese imported from the coast of
Guinea to toil and die in the Peruvian mines. So wealthy was this golden
city that more than 2,000 mules were employed in the transport of the
gold and silver from thence to Porto Bello, where the galleons were
loaded. The merchants of Panama were proverbially the richest in the
whole Spanish West Indies. The Governor of Panama was the suzerain of
Porto Bello, of Nata, Cruz, Veragua, &c., and the Bishop of Panama was
primate of the Terra Firma, and suffragan to the Archbishop of Peru. The
district of Panama was the most fertile and healthy of all the Spanish
colonies, rich in mines, and so well wooded that its ship-timber
peopled with vessels both the northern and the southern seas; its land
yielded full crops, and its broad savannahs pastured innumerable herds
of wild cattle.
The Buccaneers found the booty in the half-devastated town ample beyond
their expectations, in spite of all that had been destroyed, buried, or
removed. The stores were still full of wealth, which not even a month of
alarm had given the merchants time to remove to their overcharged
vessels. Some rooms were choked with corn, and others piled high with
iron, tools, plough-shares, &c., for Peru. In many was found "metal more
attractive," in the shape of wine, olive oil, and spices, while silks,
cloths, and linen lay around in costly heaps.
Morgan, still afraid of surprise, resorted to a reckless scheme to avert
the danger. The very night he entered Panama he set fire to a few of the
chief buildings, and before morning the greater part of the city was in
a flame, although the first blaze had been detected in the suburbs. No
one knew his motive, and few that the enemy had not done it. He
carefully spread a report, both among the prisoners and his own people,
that the Spaniards themselves were the authors of the fire. The citizens
and even the English strove to extinguish the flames, by blowing up some
houses with gunpowder and pulling down others, but being of wood, the
fire spread rapidly from roof to roof. In less than half an hour a whole
street was consumed. The Genoese warehouses and many of the slaves were
burnt, and only one church was left standing; 200 store buildings were
destroyed. Oexmelin seems to lament chiefly the slaves and merchandise,
and scarcely even affects a regret for the stately city. The ruins
continued to smoke and smoulder for a month, and at daybreak of the
morning after their arrival, little of the great city they had lately
seen glorious in the sunset remained but the president's house, where
Morgan and his staff lodged, a small clump of muleteers' cottages, and
two convents, that of St. Joseph and that of the Brothers of the
Redemption. Still fearful of surprise, the adventurers encamped outside
the walls in the fields, from a wish to avoid the confusion, and in
order to keep together in case of an attack by a superior force. The
wounded were put into the only church that had escaped the fire.
The next day Morgan despatched 160 men to Chagres to announce his
victory, and to see that his garrison wanted for nothing. They met whole
troops of Spaniards running to and fro in the savannah, but, in spite of
their expectations, they never rallied. In the afternoon the Buccaneers
re-entered the city, and selected houses of the few left to barrack in.
They then dragged all the available cannon they could find and placed
them round the church of the Fathers of the Trinity, which they
entrenched. In this they placed in separate places the wounded and the
prisoners. The evening they spent in searching the ruins for gold,
melted or hidden, and found much spoil, especially in wells and
cisterns.
A few hours after, Morgan's vessels returned with three prizes, laden
with plate and other booty, taken in the South Sea. The day they
sailed, arriving at one of the small islands of refuge near Panama, they
took a sloop with its crew of seven men, belonging to a royal Spanish
vessel of 400 tons, laden with church plate and jewels, removed by the
richest merchants in Panama; there were also on board all the religious
women of the nunnery, with the valuable ornaments of their church, and
she was so deeply laden as not to require ballast. It carried only seven
guns and a dozen muskets, had no more sails than the "uppermost of the
mizen," was short of ammunition and food, and even of water. The
Buccaneers received this intelligence from some Indians who had spoken
to the seamen of the galleon when they came ashore in a cock-boat for
water. Had they given chase they might have easily captured it, but
Captain Clark let the golden opportunity slip through his hands.
Thinking himself sure of his prize as he had got her sloop, his men
spent the night in drinking the rich wines they found in the sloop, and
reposing in the arms of their Spanish mistresses, the more beautiful for
their tears and despair. During these debaucheries the galleon slipped
by and was no more seen, and so they lost a prize of greater value than
all the treasure found in Panama. In the morning, weary of the revel,
they crowded all sail and despatched a well-armed boat to pursue the
cripple, ascertaining that the Spanish ship was in bad sailing order and
incapable of making any resistance. In the islands of Tavoga and
Tavogilla they captured several boats laden with merchandise. Informed
by a prisoner of the probable moorings of the galleon, Morgan, enraged
at her escape, sent every boat in Panama in pursuit of her, bidding them
seek till they found her. They were eight days cruising from port to
creek. Returning to the isles, they found here a large ship newly come
from Payta, laden with cloth, soap, sugar, biscuit, and 20,000 pieces of
eight; another small boat near was also taken and laden with the divided
merchandise. With these glimpses of wealth the boats returned to Panama
somewhat consoled for the loss of their larger prize. The Buccaneers'
vessels now began to excite the astonishment of the Spaniards, they
being the first Englishmen, since Drake, who had appeared as enemies on
those seas.
During this expedition Morgan had employed the rest of his men in
scouring the country in daily companies of 200, one party relieving
another, and perpetually bringing in flocks of pale and bleeding
prisoners, or mules laden with treasure. Some tortured the captives,
others explored the mines, and the rest burnt glittering heaps of gold
and silver stuffs, merely to obtain the metal, expecting to have to
fight their way back to their ships at Chagres, and not wishing to be
encumbered with unwieldy bundles on that toilsome and dangerous march.
Morgan, complaining much of the fruitless labours of his foragers, at
last placed himself at the head of 350 men, and sallied into the country
to torture every wealthy Spaniard he could meet.
The following anecdote presents us with such a complete picture of the
demoralisation of a panic, that it reminds us of Thucydides' description
of Athens during the plague, or Boccaccio's of Florence during the
raging of the pest. On one occasion Morgan's men met with a poor
Spaniard, who, during the general confusion, had strolled into a rich
man's house and dressed himself in the costume of a merchant of rank. He
had just stripped off his rags, and, first luxuriating in a change of
costly Dutch linen, had slipped on a pair of breeches of fine red
taffety, and picking up the silver key of some coffer, had tied it to
one of his points. Esquemeling represents the man as a poor retainer of
the house. He was still wondering childishly at his unwonted finery,
when the Buccaneers broke into the house and seized him as a prize.
Finding him richly dressed and in a fine house, they believed him at
once to be the master. His story they treated as a subtle invention. In
vain he pointed to the black rags he had thrown off--in vain he
protested, by all the saints, that he lived on charity, and had wandered
in there and put on the clothes by the merest chance, and without a
motive but of venial theft. Spying the little key at his girdle they
became sure that he lied, and they demanded where he had hid his
cabinet. They had at first laughed at his ingenious story--they now grew
angry at his denials of wealth. They stretched him on the rack and
disjointed his arms, they twisted a cord round his wrinkled forehead
"till his eyes appeared as big as eggs, and were ready to fall out," and
as he still refused to answer, they hung him up and loaded him with
stripes. They then cut off his nose and ears, singing his face with
burning straw till he could not even groan or scream, and at last,
despairing of obtaining a confession, gave him over to their attendant
band of negroes to put him to death with their lances. "The common sport
and recreation of the pirates," says Esquemeling, "being such
cruelties."
They spared no sex, age, or condition; priest or nun, peasant or noble,
old man, maiden, and child were all stretched on the same bed of
torture. They granted no quarter to any who could not pay a ransom, or
who would not pay it speedily. The most beautiful of the prisoners
became their mistresses, and the virtuous were treated with rigour and
cruelty. Captain Morgan himself seduced the fairest by alternate
presents and threats. There were women found base enough to forsake
their religion and their homes to become the harlots of a pirate and a
murderer. But to his iron heart love found a way, and enervated the mind
of the man whom nothing before could soften.
After ten days spent in the country beyond the walls, Morgan returned to
Panama, and found a shipload of Spanish prisoners newly arrived. Amongst
these was a woman of exquisite beauty, the wife of a Spanish merchant,
then absent on business in Peru. He had left her in the care of some
relations, with whom she was captured. Esquemeling says: "Her years were
few, and her beauty so great, as, peradventure, I may doubt whether in
all Christendom any could be found to surpass her perfections, either of
comeliness or honesty." Oexmelin, a more skilful observer, and who saw
her, being a sharer in the expedition, describes her hair as ink black,
and her complexion of dazzling purity. Her eyes were piercing, and the
Spanish pride, usually so cold and repulsive, served in her only as a
foil to her surpassing beauty, and to attract respect. The roughest
sailors and rudest hunters grew eloquent when they praised her. The
common men would willingly have drawn swords for such a prize. But their
commander was already the slave of her whom he had captured. His
demeanour changed: he was no longer brutal and truculent: he became
sociable in manner, and more attentive to the richness of his dress, for
lovers grow either more careless or more regardful of their attire.
The Buccaneer's aspect was changed. He separated the lady from the other
prisoners, and treated her with marked respect. An old negress, who
waited on her, served at once as an attendant and a spy. She was told to
assure her mistress, that the Buccaneers were gentlemen and no thieves,
and men who knew what politeness and gallantry were as well as any. The
lady wept and entreated to be placed with the other prisoners, for she
had heard that her relations were afraid of some plot against her good
fame.
The lady, like other Spanish women, had been told by their priests and
husbands, that the Buccaneers had the shape of beasts and not of men.
The more intelligent reported they were robbers, murderers, and
heretics; men who forswore the Holy Trinity, and did not believe in
Jesus Christ. "The _oaths_ of _Morgan_," says Esquemeling, with most
commendable gravity, "_soon convinced her that he had heard of a God_."
It was said, that a woman of Panama who had long desired to see a
pirate, on their first entrance into the city cried out, "Jesu Maria,
the thieves are men, like the Spaniards, after all;" and some
volunteers, when they went out to meet Morgan's army, had promised to
bring home a pirate's head as a curiosity.
Morgan, refusing to restore the beauty to her friends, treated her with
more flattering care than before. Tapestries, robes, jewels, and
perfumes, lay at her disposal. Such kindness, after all, was cheap
generosity, and part of this treasure may even have been her husband's.
In her innocence, she began to think better of the Buccaneers. They
might be thieves, but they were not, she found, atheists, nor very
cruel, for Captain Morgan sent her dishes from his own table. She at
first received his visits with gratitude and pleasure, surprised at the
rough, frank kindness of the seaman, and loudly denounced his
slanderers, that had so cruelly attempted to poison her mind against
him, her guardian and protector. The snares were well set, and the bird
was fluttering in. But Heaven preserved her, and she passed through the
furnace unhurt. Morgan soon threw off his disguise, and offered her all
the treasures of the Indies if she would become his mistress. She
refused his presents of gold and pearl, and resisted all his artifices.
In vain he tried alternately kindness and severity. He threatened her
with a thousand cruelties, and she replied, that her life was in his
hands, but that her body should remain pure, though her soul was torn
from it. On his advancing nearer, and threatening violence, she drew out
a poignard, and would have slain him or herself, had he not left her
uninjured. Enraged at her pride, as he miscalled her virtue, he
determined to break her spirit by suffering. She was stripped of her
richest apparel, and thrown into a dark cellar, with scarcely enough
food allowed her to support life, and the chief demanded 30,000 piastres
as her ransom, to prevent her being sold as a slave in Jamaica. Under
this hardship the lady prayed like a second Una daily to God, for
constancy and patience. Morgan, now convinced of her purity, and afraid
of his men, who already began to express openly their sympathy with her
sufferings, to account for his cruelty, accused her to his council of
having abused his kindness by corresponding with the Spaniards, and
declared that he had intercepted a letter written in her own hand. "I
myself," says Esquemeling, "was an eye-witness of the lady's sufferings,
and could never have judged such constancy and chastity to be found in
the world, if my own eyes and ears had not assured me thereof." Amid the
blood, and dust, and vapour of smoke, the virtue of this incomparable
lady shines out like a pale evening star, visible above all the murky
crimson of an autumn sunset.
A new danger now arose to Morgan from this adventure, for the seamen
began to murmur, saying that the love of this beautiful Spaniard kept
them lingering at Panama, and gave the Spaniards time to collect their
forces, and surprise them on their return. But Morgan, having now stayed
three weeks, and nothing more being left to plunder, gave orders to
collect enough mules to carry the spoil to Cruz, where it could be
shipped for Chagres, and so sent homeward.
There can be no doubt that various causes had for some time been
undermining the long subsisting attachment between Morgan and his men.
He had shown himself a slave to the passions which enchained their own
minds, and their riches perhaps made them independent, and therefore
mutinous. It was while the mules were collecting that he became aware of
the loaded mine over which he stood. A plot was discovered, in which
there were 100 conspirators. They had resolved to seize the two vessels
they had captured in the South Sea, and with these to take possession of
an island, which they could fortify for a stronghold. They would then
fit out the first large Spanish vessel they could obtain, and with a
good pilot and a bold captain start privateering on their own account,
and work home by the straits of Magellan. As the spoil had not yet been
divided, it is probable that all these men had broken the Buccaneer
oath, and had secreted part of the plunder. They had already hidden in
private places, cannons, muskets, provisions, and ammunition. They were
on the very point of raising the anchor, when one of them betrayed the
scheme, and Morgan at once ordered the vessel to be dismasted and the
rigging burnt. The vessels he would also have destroyed, but these he
spared at the intercession of the friend he had appointed their captain.
From this time all confidence seems to have ceased between Morgan and
his men. Many a king has been made a tyrant by the detection of a
conspiracy. The men dreaded his vengeance, and he their treachery. From
this hour he appears to have resolved to enrich himself and his
immediate friends at any risk, leaving the French to shift for
themselves. It is not improbable but that the old French and English
feud may have had something to do with this quarrel. In war it ceased,
but rankled out again in peace. The French seem to have been his
greatest enemies, and the English friendly or indifferent. This
distinction is visible even in the historians, for Esquemeling speaks of
him with mere distrust, and Oexmelin with bitter hatred.
In a few days the mules were ready, and the gold packed in convenient
bales, for Spanish or English gold it was all one to the mules. The
costly church plate was beaten up into heavy shapeless lumps, and the
heavier spoil was left behind or destroyed. Better burn it, they
thought, than leave it to the accursed Spaniard, for we always hate
those whom we have injured. The artillery of the town being carefully
spiked, and all ready to depart, Morgan informed his prisoners that he
was about to march, and that he should take with him all those who were
either unable or unwilling at once to bring in their ransom. The sight
was heart-rending, and the panic general. At his words, says the
historian, there was not one but trembled, not one but hurried to write
to his father, his brother, or his friends, praying for instant
deliverance or it would be too late. The slaves were also priced, and
hostages were sent to collect the money. While this was taking place, a
party of 150 men were sent to Chagres to bring up the boats and to look
out for ambuscades, it being reported that Don Juan Perez de Guzman, the
fugitive president of Panama, had entrenched himself strongly at Cruz,
and intended to dispute the passage. Some prisoners confessed that the
president had indeed so intended, but could get no soldiers willing to
fight, though he had sent for men as far as Carthagena; for the
scattered troopers fled at the sight of even their own friends in the
distance.
Having waited four days impatiently for the ransom, Morgan at last set
out on his return on the 24th of February, 1671. He took with him a
large amount of baggage, 175 beasts of burden laden with gold, silver,
and jewels, and about 600 prisoners, men, women, children, and slaves,
having first spiked all the cannon and burnt the gun-carriages. He
marched in good order for fear of attack, with a van and rear-guard, and
the prisoners guarded between the two divisions.
The departure was an affecting sight, as even the two historians, who
were Buccaneers themselves and eye-witnesses, admit. Lamentations,
cries, shrieks, and doleful sighs of women and children filled the air.
The men wept silently, or muttered threats between their teeth, to avoid
the blows of their unpitying drivers. Thirst and hunger added to their
sufferings. Many of the women threw themselves on their knees at
Morgan's feet and begged that he would permit them to return to Panama,
there to live with their dear husbands and children in huts till the
city could be rebuilt. But his fierce answer was, that he did not come
there to hear lamentations, but to seek money, and that if that was not
found, wherever it was hid, they should assuredly follow him to Jamaica.
All the selfishness and all the goodness of each nature now came to the
surface. The selfish fell into torpid and isolated despair--the good
forgot their own sufferings in trying to relieve those of others.
Some gazed at each other silently and hopelessly; others wailed and
wept, a few cursed and raged. Here stood one mourning for a
brother--there another lamenting a wife. Many believed that they should
never see each other again; but would be sold as slaves in Jamaica. The
first evening the army encamped in the middle of a green savannah on the
banks of a cool and pleasant river. This was a great relief to the
wretched prisoners, who had been dragged all day through the heat of a
South American noon by men themselves insensible to climate--urged
forward by the barrels of muskets and blows from the butts of pikes.
Some of the women were here seen begging the Buccaneers, with tears in
their eyes, for a drop of water, that they might moisten a little flour
for their children, who hung crying at their parched and dried-up
breasts. The next day, when they resumed the march, the shrieks and
lamentations were more terrible than before. "They would have caused
compassion in the hardest heart," says Esquemeling; "but Captain Morgan,
as a man little given to mercy, was not moved in the least." The lagging
Spaniards were driven on faster with blows, till some of the women
swooned with the intense heat, and were left as dead by the road-side.
Those who had husbands gave them the children to carry. The young and
the beautiful fared best. The fair Spaniard was led between two
Buccaneers, still apart from the rest. She wept as she walked along,
crying that she had entrusted two priests in whom she relied to procure
her ransom money, 30,000 piastres, from a certain hidden place, and that
they had employed it in ransoming their friends. A slave had brought a
letter to the lady and disclosed the treachery. Her complaint being told
to Morgan he inquired into it, and found it to be true. The religious
men confessed their crime, but declared they had only borrowed the
money, intending to repay it in a week or so. He therefore at once
released the lady, and detained the monks in her place, taking them on
to Chagres and despatching two men to obtain their ransom.
On arriving at Cruz the mules were unloaded, preparatory to embarkation.
The Buccaneers encamped round the king's warehouse, where it was stored.
Three days were given to collect the ransom. The Spaniards, tardy or
unwilling in the collection, brought in the money the day after. Vast
quantities of corn, rice, and maize were collected here for victualling
the ships. Morgan embarked 150 slaves, and a few poor and obstinate
Spaniards who had not yet paid their ransom. The monks were redeemed,
and escaped happy enough. A part of the Buccaneers marched by land. Many
tears of joy and sorrow were shed when the prisoners and those who were
liberated took farewell.
On reaching Barbacoa the division of the spoil began. Mustering his men,
Morgan compelled them all to swear they had concealed nothing, even of
the smallest value, and, what was more unusual, he ordered them all to
be individually searched from top to toe, down even to the very soles of
their shoes. This search was suspicious and insulting. The Frenchmen,
hot-blooded and mutinous, would have openly resisted had they not been
in the minority. Morgan allowed himself to be first searched to lessen
the general discontent, and one man in every company was employed as
searcher. No precautions were neglected that could be suggested by long
experience of plundering.
This unusual vigilance was a mere cloak for Morgan's own dishonesty.
Every man was now compelled to discharge his musket before the
searchers, that they might be sure no precious stones were hidden in the
barrel. These searchers were generally the lieutenants of each crew, and
had all taken an additional oath to perform their duty with fidelity.
The murmurs against Morgan had now reached such a height, and were so
hourly increasing, that many Frenchmen threatened to take his life
before they reached Jamaica. The more temperate controlled the younger
and the more impetuous, and the band reached Chagres without any revolt.
They found the garrison short of provisions and glad to be relieved, but
the wounded had nearly all died of their wounds.
From Chagres Morgan sent a great boat to Porto Bello with all the St.
Catherine's prisoners, and demanded a ransom for sparing the castle of
Chagres. The people of Porto Bello replied they would not give one
farthing, and he might burn it as he chose.
The day after their arrival, Morgan divided the booty. It amounted to
only 443,000 pounds, estimating at ten piastres the pound. The jewels
were sold unfairly, the admiral and his cabal buying the greater part
very cheap, having already, it was believed, retained all the best of
the spoil. Every one had expected at least 1000 pieces each, and was
disappointed and indignant at receiving only about 200. There was an end
now to all co-operation between English and French adventurers, and the
hopes of a Buccaneer republic were at an end for ever. The murmurs
again rose incontrollably high, and some proposed to seize Morgan and
force him to a fair division.
The suspected admiral, trying in vain to pacify them, and finding he
could obtain no price for Chagres, divided the provisions of the fort
among the vessels, removed the cannon and ammunition, then demolished
the fortifications, and burnt the buildings. Suddenly taking alarm, or
more probably following a preconcerted plan, Morgan sailed out of the
harbour without any signal or notice, and hurried to Jamaica, followed
by four English vessels, whose captains had been his confidants.
In the first paroxysm of their rage, the French adventurers would have
pursued Morgan, and attacked his vessel, but he escaped while they were
still hesitating. We shall find him finally settled in Jamaica, and
married to the daughter of the chief person of the island, a sure proof,
says the indignant and philosophical Oexmelin, that any one is esteemed
in this world provided he has money.
The same vivacious writer gives a lively picture of the rage of the
crews at the treacherous flight of Morgan. They shouted, swore, stamped,
clenched their fists, gnashed their teeth, and tore their hair, fired
off their pistols in the air, and brandished their arms, with
imprecations loud and deep. They longed for the plunder they had lost,
and longed still more eagerly for revenge. They never now mentioned the
Welsh name but with an execration. Strange anomaly of the human mind,
that men who lived by robbery, should be astonished at a small theft
committed by a comrade! In the first bitterness of their vexation, they
drew their sabres, and hewed and thrust at their imaginary enemy. They
bared their arms, and pointed out to each other the cicatrices of their
half-healed wounds.
Confirmations of the admiral's treachery reached them from every side.
They remembered that Morgan had been latterly unusually reserved and
unsociable, closeting himself with a few English confidants, to whom he
had been seen whispering even during public conferences. He had, it was
now recollected, grown silent during all discussions, and more
particularly when the booty was mentioned.
Oexmelin (a surgeon) also mentions, that on one occasion, as he was
visiting a wounded Buccaneer, Morgan came up to the hammock, and said in
English, thinking he could not be overheard, "Courage, get soon well,
you have helped me to conquer, and you must help me to profit by the
conquest." Another day, as Oexmelin was searching by the river for a
medical herb, he turned round suddenly, and saw Morgan secreting
something in the corner of a canoe, and looking frequently over his
shoulder to see if he was observed. When he observed Oexmelin, he looked
troubled, and, coming up, asked him what he was doing there, to which
the surgeon made no answer, but, stooping down, picked the plant he was
in search of, and began to tell him its properties. Morgan turned off
the subject, beginning to converse on indifferent topics, and, although
the proudest of men, insisted on accompanying him home. Oexmelin took
care to find an opportunity afterwards to rummage the canoe, but found
nothing; but this same canoe he always observed Morgan took great care
of, and never permitted to row out of his sight. But these stories none
had dared to utter, for since the victory of Panama, the admiral, always
proud, sensual, and cruel, had grown every day more stern, and had
rendered himself dreaded by his severities.
The adventurers sought for a long time some means of avenging themselves
on Morgan for his successful treachery. They at last heard that he had
resolved to take possession of St. Catherine's island, being
apprehensive of the governor of Jamaica. In this spot he had determined
to fortify himself, renew his Buccaneering, and defy both open enemies
and treacherous friends. The Buccaneers agreed to waylay him on his
passage, and carry him off, with his wife, children, and ill-gotten
treasure. They then planned either to kill him, or compel him to render
an account of the spoil of Panama. But an unexpected accident saved
Morgan, and defeated their scheme of vengeance. At the very crisis, a
new governor, Lord G. Vaughan, arrived at Port Royal, and brought a
royal order for Morgan to be sent to England to answer the complaints of
the King of Spain and his subjects. Of his trial we hear nothing, but we
soon after see the culprit knighted by Charles II., and appointed
Commissioner of Admiralty for Jamaica. The king, who frolicked with
Rochester, and smiled at the daring villany of Blood, had no scruples in
disgracing knighthood by such an addition.
In the autumn of 1680, the Earl of Carlisle, then governor of Jamaica,
finding his constitution undermined by the climate, returned to England,
leaving Morgan as his deputy.
His opportunity of revenge had now come, and he remembered his old
dangers of ruin and assassination. Many of the Buccaneers were hung by
his authority, and some of them were delivered up to the governor of
Carthagena. A new governor arrived, and terminated his cruelties, and
the justice inspired by a personal hatred. He still remained
commissioner. In the next reign he was thrown into prison, where he
remained three years. Of his final fate we know nothing certain.