THE COMPANIONS AND SUCCESSORS OF MORGAN.
Dispersion of the fleet--Oexmelin's interview with the old
Buccaneer--Adventure with Indians--Esquemeling's Escapes--1673.
D'Ogeron's Escape from the Spaniards--1676. Buccaneers' Fight at
Tobago against the Dutch--1678. Captain Cook captures a Spanish
vessel--1679. Captains Coxen and Sharp begin their cruise.
On the departure of Morgan, the Buccaneers, without food, and without
leaders, underwent many sufferings, and remained uncertain what to do.
Oexmelin and a few of his French friends being informed by a female slave
that an old Buccaneer lived in the neighbourhood, determined to go to
him and barter goods, as they were told that, although a Spaniard, such
was his custom. Following the slave with great expectation, they reached
the veteran's fort after about six hours' march. The Buccaneers' "peel"
towers were scattered all over the West Indies, and Waterton mentions
seeing the ruins of one near Demerara. This fort was defended by a fosse
of immense depth, and by massy walls of an extraordinary thickness,
flanked at each corner by a bastion well supplied with cannon. The
Frenchmen displayed their colours and beat their drums as a greeting,
yet no one appeared, and no one answered; but, at the end of a quarter
of an hour, they saw a light in one of the bastions, and perceived a man
about to discharge a cannon. Throwing themselves on their faces with
professional dexterity, the shot flew over their heads, and they then
rose and retreated out of range. Believing at once that they had been
betrayed, for many dangers had made them suspicious, they were about to
cut their guide to pieces, when, running from them, she cried to the
gunner, "Why is your master false to his word? did he not promise to
receive these gentlemen?" "It is true," cried the soldier, "but he has
changed his mind; and if you and your people do not go off, I will blow
out your brains." The Buccaneers, enraged at the insolence of this
threat, and the capricious change of intention, were about to attempt to
storm the place, when four Spaniards advanced and demanded a truce, in
the name of their master. "We had," they explained, "been alarmed at
your numbers, and feared foul play or treachery." The old adventurer was
now willing to receive them, if they would send four of their band as
ambassadors and hostages. Oexmelin was one of the four chosen. They found
the old man, grey and venerable, seated between two others. He was so
old and feeble that he could not speak audibly, but he smiled and moved
his lips, and stroked his long white beard, as they entered, and they
could observe that he was pleased to see once more the well-remembered
dress of the Buccaneer seamen. His majestic bearing was impressive.
Though he could not rise to welcome them, he bent his head in answer to
their greetings, and beckoned to one of his attendants to speak for him.
By his orders they were at once taken to his store-rooms, where they
bartered their goods, and obtained all that they required. They first
eagerly selected some brandy, and Oexmelin is never tired of repeating
"ses gens l'aiment avec passion." On their way back to the ships with
the guide, delighted at their success, the Spaniards who carried the
goods they had bought told them their master's history. He was, it
appeared, properly speaking, neither an adventurer nor a Castilian, but
a Portuguese, who had lived long both with adventurers and with
Spaniards. A Spanish ship had picked him up in a drifted canoe when
quite a boy, and he had been employed among the slaves in a cocoa
plantation, where he soon became a successful steward, and much beloved
by his master. His patron sent every year a vessel to his plantation to
be loaded with cocoa. One day, as the steward was on board
superintending the lading, a sudden squall came on, snapped the cable,
and drove them out to sea. He being a good pilot, and accustomed to
navigation, attempted to put back to land as soon as the storm abated,
but the slaves, with one voice, declared that they would not return, and
that he should not take them, for they knew that their master would
suspect, and would cruelly punish them. At that time the slightest
offence of a slave was punished with death. The steward remonstrated
with them; but the slaves resolved to be free, although they knew not
where to steer. At this crisis the bark was pursued by a Buccaneer
vessel, from which a storm for a short time released them, but they were
eventually overtaken and captured.
The Buccaneer captain brought these prisoners to the fortress they had
just visited. Here he became again a faithful steward, and finally
inherited the place at his master's death, and continued to trade with
the Buccaneers, as his predecessor had done. The fortress had been
originally built to repel the Spaniards, who had been several times
beaten off with loss.
It is very seldom that we can follow the Buccaneer to the last scene of
all: he flashes across our scene from darkness to darkness, and we hear
of him no more. In the present instance, Oexmelin enables us to fill up
the vacuum and tell out the tale. In a subsequent voyage he returned to
the old spot, the scene of an oft told story. Devastation had fallen
upon the devastator, the fortress was completely demolished and no
dwelling remained. He ascertained from the Spaniards that the old man
had died and left his riches to his two sons, who, impatient of a
slothful wealth, and with imaginations excited from their youth by the
recital of Buccaneer adventures, had at last turned Flibustiers. Before
their father's death they had often expressed a wish to conquer the
country of the ferocious Bravo Indians, but he had always discouraged
them from the dangerous and unprofitable expedition, being afraid of
attacks from the Spaniards in their absence. They were never heard of
again, but report was current that, having been shipwrecked, the two
Buccaneers had been taken by the Indians, and killed and eaten.
Leaving the Boca del Toro, about thirty leagues distant from Chagres,
Oexmelin and his companions arrived at the country of the very dreaded
Bravo Indians. These people were known to be warlike cannibals, cruel
and very treacherous. They were expert archers, and could discharge
their arrows, like the Parthians, even when in full retreat. They had
axes and spears, and wore metal ornaments, the clash of which animated
them to the charge. They carried tortoise-shells for shields, which
covered their whole bodies, and were most to be dreaded when few in
number and quite overpowered, for they would then throw themselves like
wild-cats on the foe, and think only of destroying their enemy's life,
regardless of their own. Morgan, who seems to have made every
preparation for an extensive Buccaneer empire, had often sworn to
totally destroy this nation which had slain so many shipwrecked men, and
so frequently frustrated his plans. No Buccaneer historian ever seems
to have reflected that these savages, rude as they were, fought as
patriots defending their country. We sing of Tell and rave of Wallace,
but we have no interest in a hero without breeches!
These Indians had at first been friendly to the Buccaneers, who had sold
them iron in exchange for food, but on one fatal occasion, at a
Buccaneer debauch, a quarrel had arisen, and some Indians had been
killed and their wives carried off. From this time irreconcilable hatred
existed between the two people, and to be wrecked on the Bravo shore was
equivalent to certain death. On reaching Cape Diego (so called, like
many other points of land, from an old adventurer), Oexmelin was
compelled by hunger to feed on crocodile eggs, which were found buried
in the sand. Meeting here with some French adventurers, they all removed
to an adjacent spot, where they caught turtle and salted it for the
voyage.
Ascending a river to obtain provisions, they surprised and killed two
Indians, of whom one had a beard-case of tortoise-shell and another of
beaten gold: the latter they took for a chief. Putting off from here,
and meeting with contrary winds that drove them from Jamaica, they
returned again to Chagres, and were pursued by a ship of Spanish build,
which they feared had been sent from Carthagena to rebuild the fort.
They attempted in vain to escape, and were clearing the decks, preparing
to fight to the last, when the enemy hoisted the red flag, and proved to
be one of their companions' vessels driven back by the _bise_, or
north-east wind. They lost two days' sail by this accident, more than
they could regain in a fortnight, and returned to the Boca del Toro to
get provisions and kill sea-cows, and then passed on to the Boca del
Drago. The islands here they knew to be inhabited, for the fragrance of
the fruits was wafted on the sea wind. One day a fishing party gave
chase to two Indians in a canoe, which they instantly drew ashore and
carried with them into the woods. This boat, weighing above 2,000 lbs.
and requiring 11 men afterwards to launch it, was made of wild cedar,
roughly hewn; being nimble the savages both escaped the Buccaneers. A
pilot who had been often in those parts, told them that a few years
before, a Buccaneer squadron arriving in that place, the men went in
canoes to catch the humming birds that swarmed round the flowering trees
of the coast. They were observed by some Indians who had hid themselves
in the trees, who, leaping down into the sea, carried off the boats and
men before their companions could arrive to their aid. The admiral
instantly landed 800 men to rescue the prisoners, but so many Indians
collected that they found it necessary to retreat in haste to their
ships.
The next day the Buccaneers arrived at Rio de Zuera, but the Spaniards
were all fled, leaving no provisions; they therefore filled their boats
with plantains, coasting for a fortnight along the shore to find a
convenient place to careen, for the vessel had now grown so leaky that
slaves and men were obliged to work night and day at the pumps. Arriving
at a port, called the Bay of Blevelt, from a Buccaneer who used to
resort there, half the crew were employed to unload and careen the bark
on the shore, and half to hunt in the woods--still much afraid of the
Indians, though they had as yet seen none.
The huntsmen shot several porcupines of great size, and many monkeys and
pheasants. The men took great pleasure in the midst of their danger in
this pursuit. They laughed to see the females carrying their little ones
on their backs, just like the negro women, and they admired the love and
fidelity which some showed when their friends were wounded, and were
delighted when they pelted their pursuers with fruit and dead boughs.
The men were obliged to shoot fifteen or sixteen to secure three or
four, as even when dead they remained clinging to the trees, and
remained so for several days, hanging by their fore-paws or their tails.
When one was wounded the rest came chattering round him, and would lay
their paws on the wound to stop the flow of blood, and others would
gather moss from the tress to bandage the place, or, gathering certain
healing herbs, chew them and apply them as a poultice. If a mother was
killed the young ones would not leave the body till they were torn away.
But these amusements were soon to come to an end. The Indians were upon
their track. They had been now eight days hunting. It was the daybreak
of the ninth day, and the fishermen and hunters were preparing their
nets and guns to start for the sea and for the woods. The slaves were on
the beach burning shells to make lime, which served instead of pitch for
the vessels, and the women were drawing water at the wells which had
been dug in the shore. A few of them were washing dishes, and others
sewing, for they had risen earlier than usual. While the rest went to
the wells, one of them lingered behind to pick some fruit that grew near
the beach. Seeing suddenly some Indians running from the spot where she
had left her companions, she ran to the tents, crying, "Indians,
Indians, Christians, the Indians are come." The Buccaneers, running to
arms, discovered that three of their female slaves were lying dead in
the wood, pierced with fourteen or fifteen flint-headed arrows. These
darts were about eight feet long, and as thick as a man's thumb; at one
end was a wooden hook, tied on with a string, at the other, a case
containing a few small stones. Searching the woods, no traces of
Indians, or any canoes, were to be found, and the Buccaneers, fearing
they should be surrounded and overpowered, re-embarked all their goods,
and sailed in great haste and fear.
They soon arrived at Cape Gracias a Dios, and rejoiced to find
themselves once more among friendly Indians; and at a port where
Buccaneer vessels often resorted, the rudest sailors giving thanks to
God for having delivered them out of so many dangers, and brought them
to a place of refuge. The Indians provided them with every necessary,
and treated them with friendship. For an old knife or hatchet the men
each bought an Indian woman, who supplied them with food. These people
often went to sea with the Buccaneers, and, remaining several years,
returned home with a good knowledge of French and English. They were
used as fishermen, and for striking tortoises and manitees, one Indian
being able to victual a vessel of 100 men. Oexmelin's crew having on
board two sailors who could speak the Indian tongue, they were unusually
well received.
This nation was not more than 1700 in number, including a few negro
slaves, who had swum ashore from a wreck, having murdered the Spanish
crew, and, in their ignorance of navigation, stranded the vessel. Some
of them cultivated the ground, and others wandered about hunting and
fishing. They wore little clothes but a palm leaf hat, and a short
apron, made of the bark of some tree. Their arms were spears, pointed
with crocodile's teeth. They believed in a Supreme Being, and, as
Esquemeling quaintly says, "believe not in nor serve the devil, as many
other nations of America do, and hereby they are not so much tormented
by him as other nations are." Their food was chiefly fruit and fish.
They prepared pleasant and intoxicating liquors from the plantain, and
from the seed of the palm, and at their banquets every guest was
expected to empty a four-quart calabash full of achioc, as the palm
drink was called, merely a whet to the feast to follow. Their achioc was
as thick as gruel. When they were in love, they pierced themselves with
arrows to prove their sincerity. When a youth wished to marry a maiden,
the first question of the bride's father to the lover was, whether he
could make arrows, or spin the thread with which they bound them. If he
answered in the affirmative, the father called for a calabash of achioc,
and he himself, the bride, and the bridegroom, all tasted of the
beverage. When one of these hardy women was delivered, she rose, went to
the nearest brook, washed and swathed the child, and went about her
ordinary labour. When a husband died, the wife buried him, with all his
spears, aprons, and ear jewels, and for fifteen moons after (a year)
brought meat and drink daily to the grave. Some writers contend that the
devil visited the graves, and carried away these offerings to the manes;
but Esquemeling says, he knows to the contrary, having often taken away
the food, which was always of the choicest and best sort. At the end of
the year, an extraordinary custom prevailed. The widow had then to open
the grave, and take out all the bones; she scraped, washed, and dried
them in the sun; then placed them in a satchel, and for a whole year was
obliged to carry them upon her back by day, and sleep upon them by
night. At the end of the year, she hung up the bag at her door-post, or,
if she was not mistress of her house, at the door of her nearest
relation. A widow could not marry again till this painful ceremony was
completed, and if an Indian woman married a pirate, the same custom
prevailed. The negroes maintained the habits of their own countries.
After refreshing themselves in this friendly region, the Buccaneers
steered for the island de los Pinos, and, arriving in fifteen days,
refitted their vessel, now become dangerously leaky. Half the crew were
employed in careening, and half in fishing, and by the help of some of
the Cape Gracias Indians who accompanied them they killed and salted a
sufficient number of wild cattle and turtle to revictual the ship. In
six hours they could capture fish sufficient for a thousand persons.
"This abundance of provision," says Esquemeling, "made us forget the
miseries we had lately endured, and we began to call one another again
by the name of _brother_, which was customary among us, but had been
disused in our miseries." They feasted here plentifully, and without
fear of enemies, for the few Spaniards who were on the island were
friendly, and past dangers grew mere dreams in the distance. Their only
anxiety now was about the crocodiles, which swarmed in the island, and,
when hungry, would devour men.
On one occasion a Buccaneer and his negro slave, while hunting in the
wood, were attacked by one of these monsters. With incredible agility it
fastened upon the Englishman's leg, and brought him to the ground. The
negro fled. The hunter, a robust and courageous man, drawing his knife,
stabbed the crocodile to the heart, after a desperate fight, and then,
tired with the combat and weak with loss of blood, fell senseless by its
side. The negro, returning, from curiosity rather than compassion, to
see how the duel had ended, lifted his master on his back and brought
him to the sea-shore, a whole league distant, where he placed him in a
canoe and rowed him aboard. After this, no Buccaneer dared to go into
the woods alone, but the next day, sallying out in troops, they killed
all the monsters they could meet. These animals would come every night
to the sides of the vessel and attempt to climb up, attracted probably
by the smell of food. One of these, when seized with an iron hook,
instead of diving or swimming, began to mount the ladder of the ship,
till they killed him with blows of pikes and axes. After remaining some
time here they sailed for Jamaica, and arrived there in a few days after
a prosperous voyage, being the first adventurers who had arrived there
from Panama since Morgan.
In 1673, when the war between the French and Hollanders (Dutch) was
still raging, the inhabitants of the French West Indian colonies
equipped a fleet to attack the Dutch settlements at Curacoa, engaging
all the Buccaneers that could be induced to join the white flag, either
from hopes of plunder or from hatred to the Dutch. M. D'Ogeron, the
Governor of Tortuga, the planner of this invasion, headed the fleet in a
large vessel named after himself, built by himself, and manned by 500
picked adventurers. His unlucky star led them to misfortune. The new
frigate ran upon the rocks near the Guadanillas Islands, and broke into
a thousand pieces, during a storm near Porto Rico. Being at the time
very near to land, the governor and all his men swam safe to shore. The
next day, discovered by the Spaniards, they were attacked by a large
force, who supposed they had come purposely to plunder the islands as
the Buccaneers had done before. The whole country, alarmed, rose in
arms. The shipwrecked men were surrounded by an overpowering army, who,
finding them almost without arms, refused to give them quarter, slew the
greater part without mercy, and made the remainder prisoners. Binding
them with cords, two by two, they drove them through the woods into the
open champaign. To all inquiries as to the fate of their commander,
whom they could not distinguish from the rest, they replied that he had
sunk with the wreck. D'Ogeron, following up this deception with French
sagacity, behaved himself as a mere half-witted suttler, diverting the
Spanish soldiers by his tricks and mimicry, and was the only Buccaneer
whom they allowed to go at liberty. The troopers at their camp fires
gave him scraps from their meals and rewarded him with more food than
his companions.
Among the prisoners there was also a French surgeon who had on former
occasions done some service to the Spaniards, and him they also allowed
to go at large. D'Ogeron agreed with him to attempt an escape at all
risks, and after mature deliberation, they both agreed upon a plan, and
succeeded in escaping safely into the woods, and in making their way to
the sea-side. They determined to attempt to build a canoe, although
unsupplied with any tool except a hatchet. By the evening they reached
the sea-shore, to their great joy, and caught some shell fish on the
beach from a shoal that ran in upon the sands in pursuit of their prey.
Fire to roast them they obtained by rubbing two sticks together in the
Indian fashion. The next morning early they began to cut down and
prepare timber to build the canoe in which to escape to Vera Cruz. While
they were toiling at their work they observed in the distance a large
boat, which they supposed to contain an enemy, steering directly towards
them. Retreating to the woods, they discovered as soon as it touched
land that it held only two poor fishermen. These unsuspecting men they
determined if possible to overpower, and to capture the boat. As the
mulatto came on shore alone, with a string of calabashes on his back to
draw water, they killed him with a blow of their axe, and then slew the
Spaniard, who, alarmed at the sound of voices, was attempting in vain to
push from the shore. Having filled the dead man's calabashes they set
sail, using the precaution of taking the dead bodies with them out into
the deep sea, in order to conceal their death from the Spaniards.
They steered at once for Porto Rico, and passed on to Hispaniola. A
fair wind soon brought them to Samana, where they found a party of their
people. Leaving the surgeon to collect men at Samana, D'Ogeron sailed to
Tortuga to collect vessels and crews to return and deliver his
companions, and revenge his late disaster. He sailed eventually with 300
men, and took great precautions to prevent the Spaniards being aware of
his coming, using only his lower sails in order that his masts should
not rise above the horizon. In spite of this the Spaniards, informed of
his approach, had placed troops of horse upon the shore at various
assailable points.
D'Ogeron landed his men under favour of a discharge from his great guns,
which drove the horsemen into the woods, where, as he little suspected,
the infantry lay in ambush. Eagerly pursuing, his men, who thought the
victory their own, found themselves hemmed in on every side. Few escaped
even to the ships. The Spaniards, cruel from the reaction of fear, cut
off the limbs of the dead and carried them home as trophies. They
lighted bonfires on the shore as tokens of defiance to the retreating
fleet.
The first prisoners were now treated worse than ever. Some of them were
sent to Havannah and employed on the fortifications all day, and chained
up like wild beasts at night to prevent their desperate attempts at
escape. Many were sent to Cadiz, and from thence escaped over the
Pyrenees into France, and, assembling together, like sworn members of a
common brotherhood, returned by the first ship to Tortuga.
These very men some time after equipped a small fleet, under command of
Le Sieur Maubenon, which sacked Trinidad, and put the island to a ransom
of 10,000 pieces of eight, and from thence proceeded to the Caraccas.
The Buccaneers fought against the Dutch, in 1676, and helped the French
to recover Cayenne, that had been taken by Vice-Admiral Binkes. After
this conquest, M. D'Estrees attacked Tobago, but was repulsed with the
loss of 150 killed, and 200 wounded. His ship, the _Glorieux_, of
seventy guns, was blown up, and two others stranded; several of the
Dutch vessels were, however, burnt.
D'Estrees, returning to Brest, was ordered back to Tobago, with twenty
sail of vessels of war, besides a great number of small craft. 1500 men
were landed, and, approaching a fortified place called Le Cort, summoned
Heer Binkes to surrender. The French began their attack by throwing
fire-balls into the castle; the third grenade fell upon some loose
powder in the path leading to the magazine, and blew it up. Heer Binkes
and all his officers but one were killed. 500 French instantly stormed
the works, killing all but 300 men, who were sent prisoners to France.
D'Estrees then destroyed every fort and house in the island, and sailed
away.
It was in 1678 that the same Comte D'Estrees collected 1200 Buccaneers
from Hispaniola, and twenty vessels of war, besides fire-ships, to
capture Curacoa, which could have been taken with 300 Buccaneers and
three vessels. This fleet was, however, lost on the Isles d'Aves, as we
shall describe in Dampier's voyage.
In the year 1678, Captain Cook loaded his vessel with logwood, at
Campeachy, and, while anchoring at the island of Rubia, on his way to
Tobago, was captured by three Spanish men-of-war, who left his crew upon
the shore, and carried off his ship and cargo. They had not lain there
long before a Spanish sloop of sixteen men arrived, laden with cocoa and
plate, and gave them opportunity for escape and for revenge. Borrowing
muskets of the Dutch governor, they employed six of their men in seizing
the sloop's boat as it came to land, and then embarked and took the
larger vessel, leaving their prisoners bound upon the beach, to watch
the combat that would decide their fate. Two men navigated, two more
loaded the guns, and two others fired into the enemy as fast as they
could pour their shot into the stern-ports. The Spaniards resisted
stoutly for some time, but, seeing their priest and captain shot dead,
threw their arms overboard, and cried for quarter. The Buccaneers gave
the Dutch governor a handsome reward, with a recompence for the arms,
and divided among themselves about L4,000 worth of plate. On arriving
at Jamaica they burnt the prize, and embarked their goods for England.
In the year of our Lord 1679, a Buccaneer fleet of five sail, commanded
by Captains Coxen, Essex, Alliston, Rose, and Sharp, set sail from
Port-Royal, and steered for the island of Pines, losing two vessels in
their passage, at the Zamballos islands. They met a French ship, whose
commission was only for three months, and showed its captain, with great
exultation, their forged commission for three years, purchased for only
ten pieces of eight.