The Project Gutenberg eBook of The boy's book of buccaneers, by A. Hyatt Verrill This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this eBook. Title: The boy's book of buccaneers Author: A. Hyatt Verrill Release Date: September 9, 2022 [eBook #68949] Language: English Produced by: Jeroen Hellingman and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net/ for Project Gutenberg (This file was produced from images generously made available by The Internet Archive/American Libraries.) *** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE BOY'S BOOK OF BUCCANEERS *** THE BOYS’ BOOK OF BUCCANEERS BY A. HYATT VERRILL AUTHOR OF “AN AMERICAN CRUSOE,” “THE BOYS’ OUTDOOR VACATION BOOK,” “THE BOYS’ BOOK OF WHALERS,” ETC. ILLUSTRATED NEW YORK DODD, MEAD AND COMPANY 1923 CONTENTS PAGE Chapter I Who and What Were the Buccaneers? 1 Pirates and buccaneers. How the buccaneers originated. The first buccaneers. Settlement of Tortuga. How the buccaneers received their name. How the first prizes were taken. Originators of accident insurance. Pieces of eight and the origin of the dollar. Organization of the buccaneers. Chapter II Some Buccaneers and Their Ways 14 Pierre le Grand, the first famous buccaneer. How Le Grand took the admiral’s ship. Esquemeling and his chronicles. Bartholomew Portugues and his deeds. A remarkable escape. Rock Brasiliano. A brutal buccaneer. Brasiliano’s ruse. Francis L’Ollonois the cruel. The most bloodthirsty buccaneer. Cruelties of L’Ollonois. How L’Ollonois took Maracaibo. The death of L’Ollonois. Chapter III Morgan and His Road to Fame 39 Bravery of Spaniards. Attitude of the buccaneers. Early life of Morgan. The truth about Morgan. Queer character of Morgan. Treatment of prisoners. Buccaneers and Indians. Port Royal, the lair of the buccaneers. Attack on Old Providence. Morgan’s first raids. Morgan’s attack on Puerto Príncipe. The buccaneers in Cuba. Morgan prepares to attack Porto Bello. The Gold Road. Capture of Porto Bello. Morgan’s brutality. An exchange of pleasantries. Chapter IV The Sacking of Maracaibo 64 Morgan gathers a great fleet. Morgan’s treachery. Morgan’s narrow escape from destruction. Tortures and butcheries. Morgan is blockaded. The buccaneers defeat the Spanish fleet. Morgan’s ruse. The buccaneers escape from Maracaibo. Chapter V The Taking of San Lorenzo 81 Morgan’s greatest undertaking. The buccaneers’ greatest fleet. The capture of St. Catherine. The governor’s treachery. The buccaneers sail for the Chagres. Attack on San Lorenzo. The battle. How accident won the day. Valiant Spaniards. Capture of the castle. The buccaneers start for Panama. Hardships of the journey. In sight of Panama. Chapter VI The Sack of Panama 100 The Jolly Roger. Buccaneers’ standards. How the buccaneers dressed. The battle before Old Panama. The buccaneers take the city. Morgan’s fury. Burning of Panama. Looting and torturing. Morgan’s vengeance. Morgan demands ransoms. Morgan’s gallantry. The return to the coast. Division of booty. Morgan deserts his men. Chapter VII The Misfortunes of Monsieur Ogeron 119 The golden altar of San José. Arrest of Morgan. Morgan knighted. The ex-buccaneer suppresses piracy. The end of Sir Henry Morgan. Ogeron sails for Curaçao. The buccaneers come to grief. How Ogeron escaped. Ogeron returns to Puerto Rico. Defeat of the buccaneers. Le Sieur Maintenon and his misfortunes. Odd characters among the buccaneers. The buccaneer poet. A buccaneer naturalist. The divinity student who was a buccaneer. Ringrose the navigator. Chapter VIII A Perilous Undertaking 133 A mad scheme. The plan of Sharp and his fellows. The buccaneers start across Darien. A terrible journey. Aid from the Indians. The buccaneers sight El Real de Santa Maria. Attack on the town. The buccaneers’ chagrin. The buccaneers go on towards Panama. Humanity wins its reward. In sight of the town. The Spanish fleet. A daring attempt. How the buccaneers took the Spanish fleet. Capture of the Santissima Trinidad. Valuable prizes. Dissensions and desertions. Trading with the Dons. Messages from the governor. Sawkins remembers an old friend. Loss of Captain Sawkins. Chapter IX The “Most Dangerous Voyage” of Captain Sharp 150 More desertions. Captain Sharp tells his plans. An amazing program. An awful trip. What happened to Wafer. The transformed galleon starts on its cruise. Raids on the coast. At Juan Fernandez. The men want religion. Sharp is deposed. Watling and his ways. Sharp’s prophecy. The prophecy fulfilled. Watling’s death. Sharp takes command. The buccaneers repulsed. Mutinies and deserters. Sharp refits the Blessed Trinity. The buccaneers set forth on their most dangerous voyage. The buccaneers miss the Straits of Magellan. Around the Horn through unchartered seas. Up the Atlantic. At the journey’s end. The treasure the buccaneers threw away. Chapter X The Last of the Buccaneers 174 The buccaneers in the South Sea. The cruise of the Revenge. The Bachelors’ Delight. Davis and his raids. The cruise of the Cygnet. Reunion of old friends. The buccaneers are disappointed. Swan’s defeat. Ringrose’s death. Across the Pacific. The buccaneers in Madagascar. Townley takes vast treasure. The end of Townley. The sack of Guayaquil. Back to the Antilles. Buccaneers in the East Indies. Red Legs. A moral pirate. Red Legs’ chivalry. The penalty of a scolding wife. Major Stede Bonnet. An unfortunate pirate. End of Bonnet. The pirates in the Virgin Islands. Hamlin at St. Thomas. Chapter XI Kidd, the Pirate Who Wasn’t a Pirate 192 Pirate treasure in fact and fancy. The truth about pirate treasure. Kidd’s unfounded fame. The true story of Captain Kidd. Trial of Captain Kidd. Death of Captain Kidd. A Don Quixote of the sea. Prince Rupert of the Rhine. A romantic figure. Shipwreck of Prince Rupert’s fleet. The death of Prince Rupert. Chapter XII Picturesque Pirates 208 The “Man with the glove in his hat.” My Lord, the Earl of Cumberland. The cruise of The Scourge of Malice. The Earl’s attack on Puerto Rico. The English take San Juan. The unseen foe. A losing battle. The Earl retreats. The most famous real pirate. Blackbeard. A monster in human form. Blackbeard’s courage. Blackbeard’s ways. Blackbeard’s castle. Origin of Blackbeard. How Blackbeard became a pirate. Blackbeard’s appearance. How Blackbeard amused his men. A pirate’s joke. A much-married pirate. Chapter XIII The End of Blackbeard 225 Lieutenant Maynard’s attempt. The attack on the pirates. Maynard repulsed. A hand to hand battle. The fight. Maynard and Blackbeard fight a duel. A gruesome sight. Blackbeard’s death. The end of the pirates. The Lafitte brothers. Who the Lafittes were. The Baratarians. Smugglers. The governor’s proclamation. Denounced as pirates. Lafitte’s trial. The arrival of the British. Lafitte’s patriotism. The governor’s attack. The Baratarians destroyed. Lafitte proffers his services to General Jackson. Bravery of Lafitte and his men. Pardons. What became of the Lafittes. The end of piracy. What we owe the buccaneers. ILLUSTRATIONS At dawn the buccaneers sailed away. Frontispiece FACING PAGE Money of the buccaneers’ times 16 Cruising about in small boats and attacking every Spanish ship they saw 17 He managed to secure two earthen wine jars and plugged their necks, with the idea of using them as floats 34 The buccaneers swarmed over the ship’s rails 35 Sir Henry Morgan, the most famous of the buccaneers, with one of his crew 76 Burning the galleon 77 The buccaneers’ fleet 116 The ruined tower of the cathedral in Old Panama 117 Near the cathedral are the walls of the ancient fort 117 Dampier wrote his journal during lulls between battles 140 Piraguas. It was in boats like these that the earlier buccaneers captured their first Spanish ships 141 Two ships were promptly fired and sunk 168 The battered, patched old galleon sailed southward around Cape Horn 169 The merchants bid for the loot brought ashore 188 All were in the best of spirits, smoking, drinking, spinning yarns of the sea 189 The last of the pirate ships, the Vigilant, as she was originally rigged. Now a packet in the West Indies 244 THE BOYS’ BOOK OF BUCCANEERS CHAPTER I WHO AND WHAT WERE THE BUCCANEERS? Jack looked up from the book he had been reading. “Father,” he asked, “what was a buccaneer? Cousin Fred says buccaneers and pirates were the same thing, and Jim says they were not, and in this story they speak of pirates and buccaneers both.” “Fred and Jim are both wrong and both right,” replied Mr. Bickford. “Buccaneers were pirates, but pirates were not necessarily buccaneers. But nowadays the two are often confused and writers of stories do not seem to realize the difference and make it still more confusing. When Fred comes over to-night bring him into the library, and I’ll try to straighten out the puzzle and tell you about the buccaneers.” “Say, Fred!” cried Jack, when his cousin came bouncing into Jack’s den that evening. “You were way off. Buccaneers were not the same as pirates. Dad says so, and he’s going to tell us all about them to-night. Come on down to the library.” “That’ll be dandy,” agreed Fred, enthusiastically. “And of course if Uncle Henry says they’re not the same, why they’re not, but I always thought they were. I wonder if Captain Kidd was a pirate or a buccaneer.” “Ask Dad, he knows!” laughed Jack, as the two raced downstairs to Mr. Bickford’s library. They found him surrounded by books with odd, old-fashioned, worn leather bindings and with some faded and yellowed maps and cuts on the table before him. “Well, boys,” he greeted them, “I suppose you want to know all about the buccaneers who sailed the Spanish Main, eh?” “Yes, and Fred wants to know if Captain Kidd was a pirate or a buccaneer,” replied Jack. “Neither!” laughed his father. “Captain Kidd was, as you boys would say, ‘the goat’ of a lot of unprincipled men. But we’re getting ahead too fast. We’ll discuss the famous Kidd when we come to him.” “Well, that gets me!” declared Fred, as the boys found comfortable seats in the big leather chairs. “Captain Kidd not a pirate!” “Pirates,” began Mr. Bickford, leaning back in his chair, “have been known ever since men first used boats. The earliest histories mention them. There were Phœnician pirates, Greek pirates, Roman pirates, and the old Vikings were nothing more or less than pirates. Then there were the Malay pirates, the Tripolitan pirates and the Chinese pirates who still exist, and we still have harbor pirates, oyster pirates and river pirates. A pirate is any one who preys upon shipping or steals merchandise in a boat, and he may be and usually is a sneaking, cowardly rascal without a redeeming feature. Moreover, a pirate preys on any one and every one, and while some pirates, such as the Vikings, confined their forays to certain nations and their ships and did not molest others, yet most pirates loot, murder and destroy with impartiality and fall upon their own countrymen or others alike. But the buccaneers were very different. In the first place, buccaneers were not known until comparatively recent times and the first buccaneers had their origin in 1625. “At that time England was at war with Spain, and the Spanish Government claimed all the New World and decreed that any ships found trading in the Caribbean or neighboring waters, or any settlers found upon the islands or the Spanish Main, were pirates and would be treated as such.” “But, Dad, what is the Spanish Main?” asked Jack, interrupting. “I don’t wonder you ask,” replied his father. “To read of it one would think it a body of water, for we hear of ‘sailing the Spanish Main.’ But in reality it was the mainland of South and Central America and when the buccaneers spoke of ‘sailing the Spanish Main’ they meant skirting the coast. But to continue. Of course the British and French claimed many of the West Indies and, despite the dangers, settlers went to them. Among the others that were settled was the island of St. Kitts, which was settled by both French and English. Although the settlers quarreled among themselves, still they managed to exist and were becoming fairly prosperous when in 1625 the Spanish vessels swept down upon them, burned their plantations and, after killing many of the settlers, drove them into the woods. Without homes or means the survivors sought to reëstablish themselves, but a few set sail in little dugout canoes seeking new lands. In these little craft they reached Santo Domingo, which was then known as Hispaniola, and was a stronghold of the Spaniards. But it was such a marvelously rich and promising country that the fugitive Frenchmen landed and sent back for their companions. At first the Dons knew nothing of these new arrivals, but as they increased, word of their presence reached the authorities, and soldiers were sent to drive them off or destroy them. “At that time Hispaniola was teeming with wild cattle, wild hogs, wild horses and wild dogs, descendants of the animals introduced by the Spaniards, and the Frenchmen occupied most of their time hunting and killing these creatures. Their hides were valuable, and their meat was preserved by drying it over fires or transforming it into a product known to the Spaniards as ‘bucan.’ Thus the Frenchmen became known as ‘bucaniers,’ from which the name ‘buccaneer’ was derived. So you see the buccaneers were not pirates at all at that time, and the name has no connection with piracy. “Owing to their occupation, the buccaneers became expert shots, good woodsmen, hardy, reckless and daring, and they hated the Dons like poison. But they could not stand against the Spanish troops and so, taking to their canoes, they fled to the island of Tortuga, off the northern coast of what is now Haiti. Here there were a few Spanish settlers, but they were so outnumbered by the buccaneers that they made no objection to their new neighbors. The Dons, however, had no intention of letting the buccaneers alone and sent expeditions to drive them off. Then the buccaneers started a merry game of puss in the corner. When the Dons arrived at Tortuga the buccaneers slipped over to the mainland, and when the Spaniards sought them there they sneaked back to the island. By this time they had been joined by many English, a few Portuguese and a number of Dutch, and feeling their numbers were sufficient to make a stand, they proceeded to fortify Tortuga. They selected a high rocky hill on the summit of which was a deep depression and with infinite labor converted this into a fort, mounted cannon and stored a supply of wood and ammunition. Then they destroyed the only approach—a narrow defile—and the fort could only be reached by means of ladders lowered from the parapets. “For a long time the Dons left them alone, realizing the impossibility of taking the fort, and the little settlement prospered and grew. The French sent out a governor and there at the very threshold of the Dons’ richest possession the handful of buccaneers lived and plied their trade. But although they were composed of half a dozen different races, one and all hated the Spaniards and soon, not content with buccaneering, they became ambitious and with reckless bravery set out in small canoes with the intention of capturing Spanish ships. It seems incredible that these rough, untrained hunters could seize a heavily armed ship swarming with sailors and soldiers, but nevertheless they did. Lying in wait in the track of ships they would pull to the first Spanish galleon that appeared and, while their expert marksmen would pick off the Spanish gunners and the helmsman, they would dash alongside, so close that the cannon could not bear upon them. Jamming the ship’s rudder with their boat, they would swarm up and over the bulwarks, pistols and swords in hand and knives in teeth and, yelling like demons, would rush the crew, cutting, slashing, shooting and stabbing. Seldom did they fail, and thus having secured ships and guns, to say nothing of treasure, they would sail back to their lair, flushed with victory. Then, having good ships and plenty of heavy guns, they transformed their prizes into privateers and set sail in search of more Spanish ships to conquer. “You must remember that at this time England and France were at war with Spain, and hence the buccaneers were in no sense pirates. Many of them were given commissions to prey on the Dons as privateers, and their acts were considered a legitimate part of warfare and were encouraged and fostered by the officials. “And having gone thus far they realized that organization was necessary. Hence a sort of association was formed, or perhaps we might call it a society, which they called ‘Brethren of the Main’ and laws, rules and agreements were drawn up, to which, oddly enough, the buccaneers were wonderfully faithful. “Another interesting thing is the fact that these buccaneers were the originators of life and accident insurance. Before a ship set out a council was held, and papers were drawn up stating how large a share of the loot each man should have for his services, aside from his ‘lay’ of loot, and how much should be paid for the death of a man or injuries received. Thus the loss of a right arm was valued at six hundred pieces of eight or six slaves; a left arm was valued at five hundred pieces of eight or five slaves; a right leg, five hundred pieces of eight or five slaves; a left leg, four hundred pieces of eight or four slaves; an eye or a finger, one hundred pieces of eight or one slave.” “Please, Dad,” cried Jack. “Do tell us what a piece of eight is before you go on. We read about them and about doubloons and onzas, but no one seems to know what they are.” “That’s a question well put,” replied Mr. Bickford. “A piece of eight was a silver coin of eight reals. As a real was nominally twelve and one-half cents, or half a peseta of twenty-five centavos, the piece of eight was nominally a dollar of one hundred centavos. The doubloon was one hundred reals, or about ten dollars, and was a gold coin, while the onza, or double doubloon, was two hundred reals, or about twenty dollars, and was also of gold. But as the peseta is really worth only twenty cents in present values the piece of eight is worth eighty cents, and if you go to any money exchange you can buy Spanish silver ‘dollars,’ as they are called, for eighty cents, which are genuine ‘pieces of eight.’ For smaller coins, the old Dons and buccaneers used what were called ‘cross money.’ These were irregular-shaped slugs cut from the pieces of eight and with the lettering hammered out, leaving only the cross-shaped center of the Spanish shield to prove the coin was minted silver of a definite value. Sometimes, if the piece did not bear this cross, the priests stamped a cross upon it to prove its genuineness—a sort of hall mark so to speak. These odd cross money coins are still in use in remote parts of Panama and, although no two are exactly alike in size or shape, the natives recognize them as quarters, eighths or sixteenths of a piece of eight, or in other words, as half reals, one-real and two-real pieces. And speaking of these old coins, did you ever know that the piece of eight was the grandfather of our own dollar, and was the forerunner of the metric system, and that our symbol for the dollar came from the sign used to designate the piece of eight?” “No, indeed,” declared Fred. “Do tell us about that.” “In the old days,” smiled Mr. Bickford, as he continued, “nearly all countries used the piece of eight as the standard of exchange and barter. It was used in the American colonies, but after the United States were formed it was decided to mint a standard coin for the new republic. As the piece of eight was the recognized standard, the new coin was made of the same weight and value to avoid trouble and confusion in trade and commerce. All the accounts had been kept in pieces of eight, the symbol for which was a figure eight with a line through it like this, $, and which may have originally been a figure eight with a line through it or, as some claim, a conventional Pillar of Hercules such as appeared on the pieces of eight, and so the accountants and clerks found it easier to use the same symbol with the addition of another line to designate dollars than to evolve a new symbol. So you see our dollar sign is really a modification of the old sign for the piece of eight.” “Gosh! I’ll be more interested in dollar signs now,” declared Jack, “and every time I see one I’ll remember what a piece of eight was.” “As I was saying,” went on his father, “the agreements and papers were drawn up, a captain was chosen, the buccaneers made forays into the Spanish territory and stole what cattle and hogs and other supplies they required, and the ships set forth to capture Spanish prizes and raid the towns on the Spanish Main. “The crews were rough, reckless, daredevils of every race; soldiers of fortune who had drifted to Tortuga and joined the Brethren, and as they had everything to gain and nothing to lose they exhibited bravery, took risks and performed deeds which have never been equaled. But they were not real pirates by any means—except in the eyes of the Spaniards. They never molested French or British ships, they were openly welcomed and aided in the French or British islands, and even when peace was declared and the buccaneers still continued to prey upon the Dons, the authorities winked at them and gave them refuge. But in time dissensions arose between the English, the Dutch and the French buccaneers at Tortuga, and the various nationalities separated and each took separate spots for their strongholds. The Virgin Islands were favorite lairs, for the Danish and Dutch owners were safe from their attacks by sheltering the freebooters, who spent money as recklessly as they won it, and the buccaneers had stringent rules, and the death penalty was inflicted upon any man who molested the persons or properties of the friendly islanders. The British buccaneers made Port Royal, Jamaica, their stronghold, and that town became famed as the richest and wickedest city in the world. Another lair was a little island in Samaná Bay in Santo Domingo, and the Cayman Islands south of Cuba, the Bay Islands off Honduras and several islands off the Coast of Venezuela also became nests for the freebooters. “At first, of course, all the buccaneers were equal. There were none who knew more of buccaneering than the others, all pooled their resources and the captains were elected by vote or won their place through owning a ship or having captured one. But gradually certain men won fame and prestige for their cruelty, their daring or their success, and rapidly rose to recognized leadership and became famous as buccaneer chiefs. CHAPTER II SOME BUCCANEERS AND THEIR WAYS “Now, having learned why the buccaneers were so called and how they came into existence, we’ll take up a more interesting matter, and I’ll try to tell you something of the men themselves, of the most famous buccaneers and of their deeds,” continued Mr. Bickford. “Certain famous buccaneers’ names are almost household words—such as Morgan, Montbars, L’Ollonois and your friend Captain Kidd, who, as I said, was no buccaneer—but others, who did even braver and more terrible things and were the most noted of buccaneers in their day, are almost unknown to the world to-day. Among these was Pierre Le Grand, Brasiliano, Bartholomew Portugues, Sawkins, Sharp, Davis, Red Legs, Cook, Dampier, Mansvelt, Prince Rupert and many others.” “But you’ve forgotten Drake and Hawkins and Blackbeard,” put in Jack. “None of those men were buccaneers,” his father declared. “Drake and Hawkins were privateers—Drake being Admiral of Queen Elizabeth’s navy—and won their fame in the destruction of the Spanish Armada. Later they attacked and took towns on the Spanish Main and destroyed Spanish ships, but they were neither pirates nor buccaneers. In fact, they were both dead before buccaneers became of any importance as sea rovers. On the other hand, Blackbeard was an ordinary pirate—a sea robber who made no attempt to discriminate between friend and foe and scuttled and robbed ships of his own countrymen as readily as those of other nationalities. But as he was an interesting character and was among the last of the important or dangerous pirates of the Caribbean I will tell you something of his life and career later. “The first buccaneer to rise to any fame was Pierre Le Grand, or as he was oftener called, Peter the Great, a native of Dieppe in Normandy. Le Grand’s first and only achievement, and the one which brought him fame, was the taking of the Vice Admiral of the Spanish fleet near Cape Tiburon in Haiti. With a small boat manned by twenty-eight of the rough buccaneers Le Grand set forth in search of prizes and cruised among the Bahamas, but for many days saw no ship. Provisions were running low, his men were grumbling and he had about decided to give up in despair when they sighted a huge Spanish ship which had become separated from the rest of the convoy. Setting sail they headed for the vessel and at twilight were very close. In order to force his men to their utmost, Le Grand ordered one of his crew to bore holes in the bottom of the boat and then, running their tiny craft alongside the Don, and armed only with swords and pistols, the buccaneers swarmed over the sides of the doomed ship. Taken absolutely by surprise, for the Spaniards had not dreamed that the handful of ragged men in a tiny sail boat intended to attack them, the crew of the ship, nevertheless, resisted stoutly. But they were ruthlessly cut down and while some of the buccaneers drove the Spaniards across the deck, others with Le Grand at their head, dashed into the cabin where the unsuspecting Vice Admiral was enjoying a quiet game of cards with his officers. “As Le Grand leaped across the room and placed his pistol at the Admiral’s breast the dumbfounded Spaniard exclaimed, ‘Lord bless us! Are these devils or what?’ “But he soon realized that whatever they were his ship was in their hands and that he and his men were prisoners. Le Grand, however, was neither a brutal nor a bloodthirsty wretch, as were many of his successors, and, having impressed as many of the Spanish seamen into his service as he required, he set the others, including the Admiral and the officers, ashore, and set sail with his prize for France. So great was the booty he secured by this one coup that he gave up buccaneering and settled down in France for life. “But his deed fired the buccaneers on Tortuga with dreams of easily acquired prizes and riches, and soon a host of the rough hunters and woodsmen were cruising about in small boats and attacking every Spanish ship they saw. Indeed, many, unable to secure sailboats, actually went a-pirating in tiny dugout canoes, and so daring and reckless were they that, despite their handicaps, they took two huge galleons laden with plate within the first month, as well as many smaller vessels. Now that they had seaworthy ships and plenty of wealth at their disposal they became bolder and bolder, and were soon not only cruising the Caribbean Sea, and taking ships, but were attacking the fortified and wealthy towns along the Central and South American coast with success. And let me mention here that it was very seldom that the buccaneers made use of the larger ships in their piratical raids. The smaller vessels were faster, they were more easily handled, and when necessity arose they could slip through narrow, shoal channels through which the Spanish men-of-war could not follow. The buccaneers’ vessels seldom carried over six guns, many had but two or three, but they swarmed with men armed to the teeth, and the buccaneers depended far more upon a dashing attack and hand-to-hand fights than upon cannon fire.” “Excuse me, Dad,” interrupted Jack, “but are there books that tell all these things?” “Yes, Jack,” replied Mr. Bickford. “And the best and most complete is a book called ‘The Buccaneers of America.’ It was written by a buccaneer, a man named Esquemeling, who took part in nearly all the most famous of the buccaneers’ raids and served with Morgan, L’Ollonois and many other buccaneer chiefs. His own history is almost as interesting as that of any of the men of whom he wrote. He was a Hollander by birth, but went to Tortuga as a clerk for the West India Company of France. The company, however, found that although the buccaneers were quite willing to purchase goods it was quite another matter when it came to paying for them, and as a result, the West India Company abandoned their agency in Tortuga and gave orders that all their goods and chattels on the island should be sold for what they would bring. This included servants of the company as well, and Esquemeling found himself sold for a slave for thirty pieces of eight. His master was a cruel, tyrannical man and abused his Dutch slave shamefully, although offering to let him buy his freedom for three hundred pieces of eight. Esquemeling, however, as he says himself, ‘was not master of one in the whole world.’ Finally Esquemeling became weak and ill from abuse and inadequate food, and his cruel master, fearing the man would die and he would be out of pocket and without a slave as well, disposed of the sick Hollander for seventy pieces of eight. His new master was a surgeon and a kindly man and, having doctored Esquemeling and restored him to health and strength, at the end of a year he gave him his liberty, exacting only the promise that Esquemeling should pay him one hundred pieces of eight when in a position to do so. Being, as he himself says, ‘at liberty but like unto Adam when he was first created, that is, naked and destitute of all human necessities,’ and with no means of earning a livelihood, Esquemeling threw in his lot with the buccaneers and he remained with them for a number of years. Being by profession a clerk, Esquemeling kept the logs and accounts of the buccaneers and also a journal of his own in which he recorded all the details and events of his adventurous life. His work is, in fact, the only authentic account of these men, and his quaint phraseology and droll remarks are very amusing. I have the book here, boys, and you’ll find it more interesting and absorbing than any story or fiction of the buccaneers that ever was written. “The first buccaneer of note with whom Esquemeling sailed was Bartholomew Portugues, so called as he was a native of Portugal. Portugues left Jamaica in a small ship of four small carronades with a crew of thirty men, and went cruising off Cuba. A few days later he met a heavily armed galleon bound to Havana from Cartagena and at once attacked her. Although the Spaniard carried a crew of over seventy, in addition to passengers, and was armed with twenty heavy cannon, yet Portugues assaulted the Dons without hesitation and after a desperate battle in which nearly fifty Spaniards were killed and wounded, the buccaneers took the galleon with a loss of only ten men killed and four wounded. Owing to contrary winds Portugues could not return directly to either Tortuga or Jamaica and so set sail for Cape San Antonio at the western extremity of Cuba. There he made necessary repairs to his prize and secured a supply of fresh water. As they were setting sail the buccaneers were surprised by three great Spanish ships and, greatly outnumbered, were taken prisoners and stripped of the booty they had so recently secured, a treasure of over ten thousand pieces of eight, in addition to valuable merchandise. We can imagine the chagrin of the buccaneers at this turn of fate and no doubt they gave themselves up for lost. But luck was with them. Two days after they had been made prisoners a great storm arose, the vessels became separated and the one containing the buccaneers was driven to Campeche in Yucatan. When the residents learned that Portugues and his fellows were captives on board there was great rejoicing, and the authorities sent off to the ship demanding that the buccaneers be delivered to them. After a consultation, however, it was decided safer to leave the prisoners aboard and in preparation for a general hanging a number of gibbets were erected on shore. These were in plain view of the buccaneers, and Portugues resolved to make a desperate effort to escape and to cheat the expectant Dons of the grewsome spectacle. He managed to secure two earthen wine jars and, having plugged their necks with the idea of using them as floats, he waited patiently for darkness. But the sentry, who hitherto had been a careless, sleepy fellow, was unusually alert, and seeing this, Portugues seized a knife which he had surreptitiously obtained and, to quote Esquemeling, ‘gave him such a mortal stab as suddenly deprived him of life and the possibility of making any noise.’ Then the buccaneer captain leaped into the sea and aided by his extemporized water-wings managed to gain the shore. But his troubles had only begun. At once the hue and cry of his escape was raised, and for three days Portugues concealed himself in a hollow tree without food while the Dons searched all about. At last, abandoning their hunt, the Spaniards returned to the town, and Portugues set out afoot for the Gulf of Triste, where he hoped to find other buccaneers to aid him in rescuing his comrades. “It is almost impossible to imagine what this meant or the seemingly insurmountable hardships the buccaneer captain deliberately faced, and it is also a most striking example of the faithfulness of the buccaneers to one another, which was one of the chief causes why they were so successful. Remember, Portugues was unarmed, for he had left the knife in the sentry’s back, he was without food, he had been half starved by his captors, and yet he calmly set out on a one hundred and fifty mile tramp through the jungle and along the jagged rocks of the seacoast; through a country infested by mosquitoes and stinging insects, by savage hostile Indians, and through swamps reeking with malaria. Every settlement and town had to be avoided, as they were all filled with his enemies, the Spaniards, and throughout that long and terrible journey the buccaneer subsisted entirely upon the few shellfish he found along the shore and upon the roots of forest herbs. “Moreover, several large and many small rivers crossed his route and not being able to swim his case seemed hopeless. But while searching about the banks of the first large stream, looking for a possible ford, he found an old plank with a few large spikes in it. After tremendous efforts he managed to withdraw these nails and with infinite patience whetted them against stones until he secured a sharp knifelike edge. Just think of that, boys, when you read of modern hardships endured by men left to their own resources in a forest. Imagine rubbing a ship’s spike back and forth upon a stone until it has been transformed into a knife! “But the preparation of the nails, incredible as it sounds, was not the worst of his labors. With these crude implements the buccaneer actually hacked off branches of trees, cut vines and pliant reeds and with these constructed a raft with which he crossed the stream. At every large river he repeated the work and eventually arrived safely at the Gulf of Triste fourteen days after escaping from the ship. Here, as he had expected, he found a buccaneer vessel with a captain whom he knew and, telling of his comrades’ plight, he begged the captain to lend him a boat and twenty men to go to his men’s rescue. This the captain gladly did, and eight days later, Portugues was back at Campeche. So small was the boat that the Spaniards never dreamed that its occupants were enemies or buccaneers, but thought it a craft from shore bringing off cargo, and they watched it approach without the least fear or preparations for defense. “Thus the buccaneers completely surprised the Dons and after a short, sharp struggle were in possession of the ship and had released the imprisoned buccaneers—or rather most of them, for the Dons had hanged a few. “Realizing that other Spanish vessels might appear and attack him with overwhelming force at any time, Portugues at once set sail in the ship wherein he had so long been a helpless captive, and once more in possession of his booty with vast riches in addition. Steering a course for Jamaica he was off the Isle of Pines when the fickle fate which always followed him once more turned her back and the ship went upon the reefs of the Jardines. The ship was a total loss and sunk with all her treasure, while Portugues and his comrades barely escaped with their lives in a canoe. Although they managed to reach Jamaica without misfortune, luck had deserted Portugues for all time and while he tried time after time to recoup his fortunes all his efforts were in vain. He became an ordinary seaman and was soon forgotten. “Another buccaneer whose exploits were as remarkable as Portugues’ and whose most notable exploits also took place in Yucatan, was a Dutchman who was nicknamed Rock Brasiliano, owing to his long residence in Brazil. As an ordinary mariner he joined the buccaneers in Jamaica and soon so distinguished himself by his bravery and resourcefulness that when, after a dispute with his captain, he deserted the ship, he was chosen chief by a number of his fellows and, securing a small vessel, he set forth to capture a prize. Within a few days he seized a large Spanish ship with a vast treasure aboard which he carried into Jamaica in triumph. This exploit at once brought him fame and men flocked to his service. But, unlike Portugues, who seems to have been a very decent and respectable sort of rascal, Brasiliano was a drunken, brutal scallawag. As Esquemeling says, ‘Neither in his domestic or private affairs had he good behavior or government over himself.’ When drunk, as he always was when ashore, his favorite amusement was to race up and down the streets, beating, stabbing or shooting all whom he met, very much as our Western ‘bad men’ used to ‘shoot up’ a town in the old days. “Moreover, Brasiliano was unspeakably bloodthirsty and cruel. Whenever he captured Spaniards he put them to the most horrible tortures, and in order to force them to reveal the hiding places of their treasures he would flay them alive, tear them limb from limb or roast them on spits over slow fires. As a result, he became a feared and dreaded man, and the mere mention of his name caused the Dons to shudder and to huddle within their stockades. Nevertheless Brasiliano was a brave, a resourceful and a most remarkable man and performed some most noteworthy exploits. On one occasion he was cruising off the coast of Yucatan when a violent storm drove his ship upon the rocks, and he and his men escaped with only their muskets and a slender stock of ammunition. They landed on a desolate, uninhabited stretch of coast midway between Campeche and the Gulf of Triste and, quite undeterred by their plight, commenced an overland march towards the Gulf exactly as Portugues had done. But they had not proceeded far when they were surprised by a cavalcade of over one hundred Spanish horsemen. Despite the fact that the buccaneers numbered less than thirty, yet they had no thought of either retreat or surrender, but at once prepared to meet the oncoming cavalry. Expert marksmen as they were, a Don fell for every bullet fired and for an hour the handful of buccaneers kept the Spaniards at bay until, finding the cost too heavy, the cavalry retreated towards the town. Killing the wounded and stripping the dead of their arms and equipment, the buccaneers continued on the journey mounted on the horses of the dead Dons, the total loss of Brasiliano’s forces being but two killed and two wounded. Quite encouraged by their success, the buccaneers approached a little port and saw a boat lying at anchor in the harbor and protecting a fleet of canoes that were loading logwood. With little trouble the buccaneers captured the canoes and with wild shouts and yells bore down upon the little gunboat. The Spaniards aboard, terrified at sight of the buccaneers, surrendered after a short fight, but, to the buccaneers’ chagrin, they found scarcely any provisions on their prize. This did not trouble them long, however, and promptly killing the Spaniards’ horses they dressed them, salted the meat and, thus equipped, sailed forth to capture more vessels. In this they were highly successful, and in a few weeks Brasiliano sailed into Port Royal with nearly one hundred thousand pieces of eight and much merchandise. But the buccaneers invariably wasted all their hard-won money recklessly. It was not uncommon for one of them to spend several thousand pieces of eight in a single night of drinking, gambling and carousing and so, within a few days, Brasiliano and his men were forced to go to sea again. Having had good fortune at Yucatan, he set sail for Campeche, but fifteen days after his arrival on the coast he was captured with several of his men while spying on the city and harbor in a canoe. They were at once cast into a dungeon to await execution, but Brasiliano was by no means at the end of his resources. By some method he managed to secure writing materials and composed a most wonderful letter purporting to be written by another buccaneer chief and in which the supposed author threatened dire reprisals on any Spaniard captured by the buccaneers if Brasiliano and his men were harmed. This epistle was delivered to the Governor—though how on earth Brasiliano managed it no one knows—and His Excellency, having had plenty of experience with buccaneers, was so frightened at its contents that he at once liberated his prisoners, only exacting an oath that they would abandon buccaneering. Then, to insure their keeping their promise, he sent them as sailors on a galleon bound for Spain. With their wages from the trip they at once returned to Jamaica and, regardless of pledges, were soon harassing and murdering the Dons right and left. “But neither Portugues or Brasiliano could compare in cruelty, daring, bloodthirstiness or rascality with Francis L’Ollonois. In his youth L’Ollonois was transported to the West Indies as a bond servant, or virtually a slave, and, winning his freedom, made his way to Tortuga and joined the buccaneers. “So unspeakably cruel and bestially inhuman was this Frenchman that even his fellow buccaneers sickened of his ways and Esquemeling speaks of him as ‘that infernal wretch’ or ‘that despicable and execrable pirate.’ For a time after joining the Brethren of the Main, L’Ollonois served as a common seaman, but his courage and reckless daring soon brought him to the attention of Monsieur de la Place, the governor of Tortuga, who was heartily in sympathy with the buccaneers. The governor therefore provided L’Ollonois with a ship and outfitted him, the agreement of course being that La Place should have a share of the booty taken. Within a very short time L’Ollonois had taken several vessels and immense riches, while his awful cruelties made him a dreaded and famed character throughout the Caribbean. Indeed, so merciless was he that the Dons, rather than surrender to the monster, would leap into the sea or blow out their own brains, knowing that quick death by any means was preferable to the tortures they would endure at L’Ollonois’ hands. His first disaster occurred when his ship was wrecked on the coast of Yucatan. The men all escaped, but were immediately attacked by the Spaniards, who killed the greater portion of the buccaneers and wounded L’Ollonois. Seeing no means of escape the captain smeared himself with blood and sand and crawling among the dead bodies lay motionless. The Dons were completely fooled and, not recognizing L’Ollonois and thinking him merely a dead sailor, left the field after a brief search for the buccaneer chief, whereupon he made for the woods and lived upon roots until his wounds healed. Then, having stolen garments from a Spaniard whom he killed, the rascal walked calmly into Campeche. Here he conversed with several slaves and, promising them liberty in return for their services, he succeeded in getting a large canoe and with the slaves to help he reached Tortuga in safety. In the meantime the Spaniards were rejoicing at thought of the dread L’Ollonois being killed, for his men, who had been made prisoners, told the Dons that he had fallen in the battle. “His next raid was on the town of Cayos in Cuba, and word of his approach was sent post-haste to the governor at Havana. We can readily imagine the amazement and terror of His Excellency when this dreaded buccaneer, who was supposed to be safely dead at Campeche, bobbed up alive and well at Cuba. At first the governor could not believe it, but nevertheless he dispatched a ship with ten guns and with a crew of eighty to attack the buccaneers and commanded the captain not to dare to return unless he had totally destroyed the pirates. In addition, he sent aboard a negro as a hangman with instructions that every buccaneer taken alive should be hanged, with the exception of L’Ollonois, who was to be brought alive to Havana. No doubt the governor wished to make sure of the buccaneer chieftain’s death this time, but fate decreed otherwise. Instead of trying to escape, the buccaneers, when they learned of the warship coming to attack them, set forth in two canoes and unexpectedly bore down on the Spanish ship as she lay at anchor in the Estera River. It was two o’clock in the morning when they drew near the doomed vessel, and the watch, seeing the canoes and not dreaming that they contained buccaneers, hailed them and asked if they had seen any pirates. To this the buccaneers replied that they had seen no pirates or anything like them. The watch thus satisfied was turning away when the canoes dashed close and the buccaneers swarmed over the ship’s rails. Taken completely by surprise, still the Dons put up a gallant fight and for some time the battle raged desperately. But, as usual, the buccaneers, though but twenty-one all told, triumphed and drove the surviving Spaniards into the hold. Then, stationing his men by the hatchway with drawn swords, L’Ollonois ordered the prisoners to come up one at a time, and as fast as they appeared his men struck off their heads. The last to appear was the negro hangman who begged piteously for mercy, but L’Ollonois, after torturing him to confession of various matters, murdered him like the rest. Only one man was spared and to him L’Ollonois gave a note addressed to the governor in which he informed His Excellency of the fate of his men and assured him that he would never give quarter to any Spaniard and only hoped to be able to torture and kill His Excellency as well. “With the ship captured from the Spaniards, L’Ollonois cruised along the Spanish Main, took several ships and returned to Tortuga with the idea of fitting out a large company of ships and boldly attacking the Spanish towns and cities, as well as their vessels. The fleet he gathered together consisted of eight ships, the largest carrying ten guns, and with six hundred and sixty buccaneers. But long before they reached the South American coast they were flushed with success. Near Porto Rico they captured a ship of sixteen guns laden with cacao and with treasure consisting of forty thousand pieces of eight and over ten thousand dollars’ worth of jewels, and near the island of Saona they took the payship of the Dons and obtained nearly four tons of gunpowder, many muskets and twelve thousand pieces of eight. It would be tiresome to describe in detail their arrival at Maracaibo, their taking of the forts and their capture of the town. The Spaniards resisted valiantly, but were beaten back and then commenced a series of orgies, of cruelties and of inhumanities which are almost without an equal. The people, as soon as they realized the town would fall to L’Ollonois and his freebooters, took to the outlying country, and these refugees the buccaneers hunted down and dragged before their chief. In order to make them confess where they had hidden their valuables—although L’Ollonois had already obtained vast plunder—they were put on the rack, broken on the wheel, cut to pieces, flayed alive and subjected to every cruelty and torture the corsairs could devise. For fifteen days the buccaneers occupied the town and butchered and tortured the inhabitants until, convinced that no more loot could be secured, they left Maracaibo, sailed up the Lake and took the town of Gibraltar. Here they were ambushed and many killed, but in comparison to the losses of the Dons the buccaneers suffered little, losing but forty men killed and about fifty wounded, while over five hundred Spaniards were killed and several hundred taken prisoners. Many of the captives died from starvation or illness under the buccaneers’ treatment, many more were butchered for pure sport and hundreds were put to the torture. Then, not satisfied, L’Ollonois threatened to burn the town unless he was paid ten thousand pieces of eight and when this was not instantly forthcoming he actually set fire to the place. However, the money being eventually paid, the buccaneers had the decency to aid the inhabitants in putting out the conflagration, for, oddly enough, they usually kept to their promises, and after eighteen days set sail for Maracaibo again. Here they demanded a payment of thirty thousand pieces of eight under penalty of having the town destroyed, and the poor harassed and cowed Dons managed to raise the sum and with heartfelt thanks saw the fleet sail away. When Tortuga was reached and a division of spoils made it was found that over two hundred thousand pieces of eight had been taken in addition to immense stores of silks, gold and silver plate and jewels. “Hardly had he landed when L’Ollonois prepared for another raid and with seven hundred men set sail with six ships for Honduras. Here the beastly buccaneer chief tortured and killed and robbed to his heart’s content, but finding comparatively little loot and thinking the inhabitants had secreted their wealth, he became mad with fury and outdid all his former inhuman acts. On one occasion, when a prisoner insisted that he did not know the route to a certain town, L’Ollonois slashed open the fellow’s breast with his sword, tore out his still throbbing heart and bit and gnawed at it with his teeth, as Esquemeling says, ‘like a ravenous wolf,’ and threatened to serve the other prisoners in the same manner unless they showed him the way to San Pedro. This they did, but the Spaniards had placed ambuscades and the buccaneers were compelled to fight savagely every inch of the way. Finally the Dons agreed to deliver the town if the buccaneers would grant quarter for two hours, but no sooner was the time up than L’Ollonois hurried his men after the people, robbed them of what they had and slaughtered them without mercy. But L’Ollonois was too bestial and cruel even for his own men. A short time after the sack of San Pedro, dissensions arose and the party divided, the majority of the buccaneers leaving with Moses Vanclein to raid the coast towns of Costa Rica and Panama. From that time on L’Ollonois had nothing but ill luck and soon afterwards his ship was wrecked off Cape Gracias à Dios. With the remains of the wreck, the buccaneers set to work to construct a small boat, and to sustain themselves, planted gardens. For six months they were marooned until the boat was completed, and L’Ollonois, with part of his crew, set out for the San Juan River in Nicaragua. But fate had turned against him which as Esquemeling naïvely remarks, ‘had long time been reserved for him as a punishment due to the multitude of horrible crimes which in his wicked life he had committed.’ Attacked by the Spaniards and their Indian allies, he was forced to retreat with heavy loss and, still hoping to retrieve his fortunes, headed southward for the coasts of Darien. And here the villain met with the end he so richly deserved. He was taken by the savage Indians of the district, was torn to pieces while alive and his limbs cast into a fire. Finally, that no trace or memory of him might remain, the savages scattered his ashes in the air.” CHAPTER III MORGAN AND HIS ROAD TO FAME “Ugh!” exclaimed Jack, as his father ceased speaking. “Wasn’t he the most awful creature! Gosh, I always thought the buccaneers were brave men and heroes.” “There is no question of their bravery,” replied Mr. Bickford, “and L’Ollonois was an exceptionally cruel villain. But as a rule the buccaneers were no more cruel or bloodthirsty than the Spaniards or even their more respectable countrymen. You must remember that human standards have changed a great deal since the days of the buccaneers. In their time human life was held very cheaply. The theft of a few cents’ worth of merchandise was punishable by death. Men and women had their ears cut off, their tongues pierced or their eyes put out for most trivial crimes, and torture by rack, wheel or fire was considered a perfectly legitimate means of securing confessions of guilt from suspected persons. We must not therefore judge the buccaneers too harshly. To us they appear inhuman monsters, but in their days they were no worse than the usual run of men. Moreover, you must remember that their crews were made up of the roughest, toughest element. Renegades, fugitives from justice, criminals, cut-throats and thieves, and that they looked upon the Spaniards as natural enemies and worthy of no more pity or consideration than wild beasts. Finally, consider the temptation that ever spurred them on and excited their passions and their worst instincts. Gold and riches were to be had for the taking, the Dons were legitimate prey, and they were beyond the pale of the law, if not actually protected by the authorities. Take a crowd of sailors to-day, give them arms and a ship, and license to kill, rob and destroy, and you would find them as reckless, as cruel and as devilish as the old buccaneers, if not more so. And much of their success depended upon the reputation they had for cruelty. The very mention of some of the more famous pirates’ names would create a panic among the Dons and make victory comparatively easy, and for this reason the buccaneers practiced cruelties that were absolutely uncalled for, but which they looked upon as a part of their profession.” “It seems to me the Spaniards were awful cowards,” said Fred, as his uncle paused. “They were always licked by the buccaneers, although there were more of them.” “That’s a great mistake,” Mr. Bickford assured him. “In nearly every case the Spaniards showed marvelous bravery and courage in resisting the buccaneers and in several instances their courage was absolutely heroic. Very often they refused to surrender until every man fell, and time and time again their commanders committed suicide when they found that resistance was hopeless. But they were fearfully handicapped. The buccaneers knew beforehand just what to expect and the strength of the garrisons, they usually attacked at night and they invariably surprised the Dons. The Spaniards had no idea how many men were attacking, and they were packed together in forts, stockades or towns, while the buccaneers could scatter, could seek the shelter of trees or buildings and were constantly on the move. Finally, the buccaneers were expert marksmen, trained woodsmen and were absolutely reckless of life and limb while, in addition, the Spaniards knew that the more valiantly they resisted the less quarter they would receive in the end. Perhaps there are no better examples of the Spaniards’ bravery than that shown by the garrisons of Porto Bello and of San Lorenzo, which were taken by Sir Henry Morgan, the most famous of the buccaneers.” “Oh, do tell us about him!” cried the two boys in unison. “Very well,” laughed Mr. Bickford. “But I’m afraid your ideals will be rudely shattered when you learn the truth of Morgan, and before I tell you of his most famous exploits let me ask you a question. Have you any idea how long Morgan was a buccaneer or how long his career of fame lasted?” “Why, no,” replied Jack. “I never thought about it, but I suppose it was years and years.” “I thought he was a buccaneer all his life,” declared Fred. Mr. Bickford smiled. “Nearly all the famous buccaneers led short lives and merry ones,” he said. “But of them all I think the famous Morgan’s career was the shortest. From the time he first came into notice as a corsair until he dropped out of sight was barely five years, and all his most famous or rather infamous exploits took place within a space of three years.” “Jiminy, he must have been a fast worker!” exclaimed Jack. “Yes, he was what you might call a ‘hustler,’” laughed his father. “And it undoubtedly was the speed with which he carried out his nefarious projects that made him successful to a large extent. But like many another famous man, Morgan’s deeds have been greatly exaggerated, and his real character was very different from that we are accustomed to attribute to him, for romance, imagination and fiction have, through the passing years, surrounded him with a halo of false gallantry, bravery and decency. In reality Morgan was an ignorant, unprincipled, ruthless, despicable character, utterly selfish and heartless, dishonorable and with scarcely a redeeming trait, aside from personal courage. But like many of the buccaneers he displayed most remarkable and contradictory traits at times. It is said that whenever a priest or minister fell into his clutches he compelled the clergyman to hold divine services on the ship, and that on more than one occasion, he shot down his own men for not attending service or for disrespectful behavior during a religious ceremony. What became of the unfortunate clerics after Morgan was done with them is not recorded, but the chances are that he compelled them to walk the plank or put an end to their careers in some equally summary manner, for that was ‘Harry Morgan’s way,’ as he was fond of saying.” “But tell me, Dad,” asked Jack, “did the buccaneers always kill or torture their prisoners?” “No,” his father assured him. “As a rule they treated their prisoners with consideration. Some of the more bloodthirsty tortured and butchered them out of hand, but in most cases the prisoners were either held for ransom or were set ashore or turned loose in boats. It was, in a way, to the buccaneers’ advantage to give quarter, for they knew that in case any of their number fell into the Spaniards’ hands they would be treated according to the way they had treated Spanish captives—or perhaps worse—for the Dons were past masters in the art of devising most atrocious tortures. “And before I tell you of Morgan and his deeds let me point out one or two other matters which will help you to understand much that would otherwise puzzle you boys and which is little known. In several places—as in the Isle of Pines off Cuba—the Spaniards were friendly with the buccaneers and gladly aided them, while the corsairs made it a point always to pacify and maintain friendly relations with the Indians. This was a most important matter for them. All along the South and Central American coasts were Indian tribes, and the buccaneers depended very largely upon the red men for provisions, canoes and guides. The Indians hated the Dons and willingly joined the buccaneers against them, and even the most savage tribesmen usually welcomed the freebooters and helped them in every way. Moreover, they knew the country and were most valuable as guides and pilots, and there are innumerable records of the buccaneers showing the greatest forbearance towards the savages. Even when they were attacked by Indians with whom they had not established relations they refrained from retaliating, but either propitiated the natives or moved bag and baggage from the locality, and the most severe punishment was meted out to the buccaneers by their leaders if they molested the Indians or interfered with them in any way. As a result, many of their greatest triumphs were made possible by their Indian allies. “But to return to Morgan. He was, by birth, a Welshman, the son of a well-to-do farmer, but his imagination being fired by tales of adventure in the West Indies he ran away from home and reached Bristol with the intention of shipping on a vessel bound to Barbados. But young Morgan knew little of what was to befall him. According to a common custom of those days the master of the ship sold him as a bond servant, or in other words a slave, as soon as the ship reached Barbados, and the embryo buccaneer found himself far worse off than as a farmer’s boy in Wales. Nevertheless, he served his time, secured his liberty and made his way to Jamaica, which was then the headquarters of the English buccaneers. “And now let me digress a bit and explain how a British colony happened to be a notorious lair of the buccaneers. You remember that I told you about Tortuga and how the British and French freebooters had disputes and dissensions and that the English corsairs transferred their headquarters to Port Royal, Jamaica. At that time, you must remember, Spain and England were at war, and the British authorities gladly gave commissions as privateers to the buccaneer leaders. Thus they were looked upon, not as pirates, but as auxiliaries of the British navy, and even after peace was declared and they continued to prey upon the Spaniards, the authorities winked at them. They brought vast sums to the island ports, spent it recklessly and freely, and disposed of the merchandise they had taken for a mere song. As a result, the ports prospered and became rich through their dealings with the buccaneers; merchants and traders did a lively business, shipyards and outfitting shops sprang into existence; drinking places, gambling houses and every form of vice catered to the corsairs and thrived amazingly, and every one prospered. The buccaneers thus had safe refuges where they could spend their loot, refit their ships and organize their expeditions, and they were careful not to molest or injure the inhabitants or their property. Indeed, Jamaica’s prosperity was largely built upon the trade with the corsairs, and not until infamous Port Royal was utterly destroyed by an earthquake on June 7, 1692, and the ‘wickedest city in the world’ slid bodily into the sea, with all its riches and over three thousand of its inhabitants, did it cease to be a clearing house, a gigantic ‘fence’ and a haven for the buccaneers. Then the few survivors, frightened, feeling that the wrath of God and His vengeance for their wickedness had been visited upon them, moved across the bay and founded the present city of Kingston and paved the way for a respectable and honest development of the island.” “Gosh, I should think some one would go down there and get back all that treasure!” exclaimed Fred. “It’s rather strange that no one has attempted it,” said Mr. Bickford. “The water is not deep—in calm weather the outlines of the ruins may still be traced under the sea—and the native colored folk tell weird tales of ghostly pirate ships tacking back and forth at dead of night, striving to find the lost port; of the bells of the pirates’ church tolling through storms from beneath the waves, and of spectral figures walking the beach and gazing seaward as though awaiting ships that never come.” “Did the buccaneers have a church?” cried Jack in surprise. “I don’t wonder you ask,” replied his father. “Yes, that was one of the odd things about them. Altogether the buccaneers were most paradoxical rascals. With all their villainies many of them were deeply religious at times and there are instances—as I shall tell you later—of crews actually mutinying because their captains made them work on Sunday and did not hold services aboard their ships. They seemed to feel that their notoriously wicked stronghold at Port Royal was not complete without a church and so they built one. They fitted it with bells taken from some raided church of the Dons, they provided altar pieces, vestments, candelabra and holy vessels of gold and silver, chalices set with priceless jewels, even paintings and tapestries torn and looted from the desecrated churches and cathedrals of the Spanish towns, and attended services in a house of God made a mockery and a blasphemy by its fittings won by blood and fire and the murder of innocent men, women and children. “And it was to this den of iniquity, this world-famed lair of the buccaneers, that young Morgan came after gaining his liberty in Barbados. Perhaps he had no idea of turning corsair and intended to get honest employment or even to make his way back to his father’s farm in Wales. But whatever his purpose may have been he found no ready means of earning a livelihood and enlisted as a seaman on a buccaneer ship. He was an apt pupil and was thrifty, and after the first two or three voyages he had saved enough money from his share of plunder to purchase a ship, or rather a controlling interest in one. He now was a full-fledged buccaneer captain and in his own vessel set sail for Yucatan, where he took several prizes and returned triumphantly to Jamaica. Here he met an old corsair named Mansvelt, who was busy organizing an expedition to pillage the towns along the Main, and Mansvelt, seeing in Morgan a most promising young villain, offered him the post of Vice Admiral of his fleet. With fifteen ships and five hundred men, Mansvelt and Morgan sailed away from Port Royal and swept down on the island of Old Providence—then known as St. Catherine—off the Costa Rican coast, and which at the time was strongly garrisoned by the Spaniards. After a short battle the island surrendered, and the buccaneers, after plundering the place, destroying the forts and burning the houses, sailed off with their holds crowded with prisoners. These they put safely ashore near Porto Bello and then cruised along the coasts of Panama and Costa Rica. The Dons, however, were everywhere on the lookout and every town swarmed with troops. Realizing that an attempt to take the places would be well nigh useless the buccaneers returned to St. Catherine, where they had left one hundred of their men, to find that the buccaneer in charge—Le Sieur Simon—had repaired the forts and defenses until the place was well nigh impregnable. Mansvelt’s idea was to retain the island as a basis for piratical raids against the mainland, but he realized that he could not expect to hold it with his handful of men, so he set out for Jamaica to enlist the aid of the governor. His Excellency, however, frowned on the proposal. Not that he was unwilling to aid his buccaneer friends, but he realized that any such overt act must reach the ears of His Majesty the King and, moreover, he could ill spare the necessary men and guns from the garrison at Jamaica. Not despairing of carrying out his project, Mansvelt made for Tortuga with the idea of getting help from the French, but before he arrived he died. Meanwhile the buccaneers at St. Catherine realized their reënforcements were not forthcoming and decided to abandon the place, but before this could be done they were attacked by a superior force of Spaniards and surrendered. Evidently, too, the wily Governor of Jamaica had been thinking over the matter and surreptitiously dispatched a party of men and a number of women in a British ship to St. Catherine. Never suspecting that the isle had fallen into the Dons’ hands they sailed boldly in and were made prisoners and were transported to Porto Bello and Panama, where the men were forced to labor like slaves at constructing fortifications. “Morgan now, by Mansvelt’s death, was in command of the fleet, and with the idea of carrying out his former chief’s intentions he wrote letters to various prominent merchants in New England and Virginia, asking for funds and supplies to enable him to retain possession of St. Catherine. Before replies were received, however, he had word of the recapture of the island by the Spaniards and, abandoning this project, set out for Cuba. His original idea was to attack Havana, but deeming his force of twelve ships and seven hundred men too small for this he decided upon Puerto Príncipe—now known as Camagüey—as the town to ravage. This town, which had originally been upon the northern coast of Cuba, had been moved inland to escape the raids of the buccaneers, but this fact did not deter Morgan in the least. Landing upon the coast, Morgan and his men started overland, but unknown to them a Spanish prisoner on one of the ships had managed to escape and, swimming ashore, had made his way to the town and had warned the inhabitants. As a result, the people were up in arms, the roads were barricaded, and the buccaneers were forced to approach through the jungle. “After a short but bloody battle the buccaneers gained the town, but the Dons, barricaded in their houses, kept up a galling fire until Morgan sent word that unless they surrendered he would burn the city and cut the women and children to pieces before the Spaniards’ eyes. This threat had its effect, and the Dons at once surrendered. Thereupon Morgan immediately imprisoned all the Spaniards in the churches without food or drink, and proceeded to pillage, drink and carouse. These diversions they varied by dragging forth the half-starved prisoners and torturing them to make them divulge the hiding places of their wealth, but fortunately for the poor people, the majority of women and children perished for want of food before Morgan and his men could wreak more terrible deaths upon them. Finally, finding nothing more could be secured, Morgan informed the survivors of the citizens that unless they paid a large ransom he would transport them to Jamaica to be sold as slaves and would burn the town. The Dons promised to do their best, but finally, feeling convinced that they could not raise the sum and that to remain longer in the vicinity might result in disaster, Morgan consented to withdraw upon delivery of five hundred head of cattle. These being furnished, he compelled the prisoners to drive the beasts to the coast and to butcher, dress and salt them and load the meat aboard his ships. While this was going on Morgan exhibited one of his odd kinks of character which were always creeping out. One of the French buccaneers was busily cutting up and salting an ox for his own use when an English corsair came up and calmly took possession of the marrow bones. Words and insults resulted, a challenge was issued and a duel arranged, but as they reached the spot selected for the fight the Englishman drew his cutlass and stabbed the Frenchman in the back, killing him treacherously. Instantly the other French buccaneers started an insurrection, but before it had gone far Morgan interposed, ordered the offending Englishman chained and promised to have him hanged when they reached Jamaica, which he did. “The taking of Puerto Príncipe, although a notable exploit, was, nevertheless, a most unprofitable venture, the entire booty obtained amounting to barely fifty thousand pieces of eight. As a result, the men were so dissatisfied that the French buccaneers refused to follow Morgan farther. Morgan’s next exploit was the most daring that the buccaneers had ever attempted, for it was nothing more or less than an attack upon the supposedly impregnable forts of Porto Bello, the Atlantic terminus of the Gold Road across the Isthmus of Panama.” “Please, Dad, what was the Gold Road?” asked Jack, as his father paused. “The Gold Road,” answered his father, “was the roughly paved highway leading from the old city of Panama on the Pacific to Nombre de Dios and Porto Bello on the Caribbean. If you will look at the map here you will see Porto Bello situated about twenty-five miles east of Colón with Nombre de Dios just beyond. Nombre de Dios, however, was abandoned after its capture by Sir Francis Drake, and the terminus of the road became Porto Bello. To-day the place is of no importance—a small village of native huts—but the ruins of the old castles and forts are still standing in a good state of preservation, and the place is historically very interesting. Moreover, just off the port Sir Francis Drake’s body was buried at sea. But to resume. The Gold Road was the only route from the Pacific to the Atlantic and over it all the vast treasures won by the Spaniards from the west coasts of North, South and Central America and Mexico were transported on mule-back to be shipped to Spain. Over it were carried the millions in gold, silver and jewels of the Incas; over it was carried the output of countless fabulously rich mines, incalculable wealth in pearls from the islands off Panama, emeralds from Colombia, bullion and plate, the stupendous wealth wrested by the ruthless Dons from Indian princes, princesses and kings; such a treasure as the world had never seen before. In long mule trains the vast wealth was carried over the Gold Road through the jungle, escorted by armed men, accompanied by shackled slaves, and in Porto Bello it was stored in the great stone treasure house to await the galleons and their armed convoy to carry it to Spain. Naturally, with such incredible fortunes stored in Porto Bello, the Spaniards used every effort and spared no expense to make the place so impregnable that there was no chance of its falling to the buccaneers, and in all New Spain, aside from Havana, there was no spot more strongly fortified and garrisoned than Porto Bello. The defenses consisted of two immense castles or forts, several batteries and outlying bastions and a garrison of nearly four hundred men, all seasoned veterans and heavily armed. To attack this formidable spot Morgan had nine vessels, several of them small boats, and a total force of four hundred and sixty men. No buccaneer had dreamed of attacking Porto Bello since the completion of its defenses—although in 1602 it had been taken and sacked by William Parker—but Morgan counted on a complete surprise, an assault made under cover of darkness from the land side and conducted by one of his men who had once been a prisoner in Porto Bello. “Arriving at the River Naos, they traveled upstream a short distance and then struck out through the forest. As they neared the city, Morgan sent the former prisoner of the Spaniards, with several men, to kill or capture the sentry at the outlying fort, and, creeping upon him, they made him a prisoner before he could give an alarm and brought him bound and gagged to Morgan. Under threat of torture and death if he gave an alarm, the fellow was marched before the buccaneers and, without being seen, they surrounded the first fort. Their prisoner was then ordered to call to the garrison, tell them an overwhelming force had surrounded them and advise them to surrender or otherwise they would be butchered without mercy. The garrison, however, spurned the advice and instantly commenced firing into the darkness. Although their shots did little damage, yet they served to arouse the city and prepare the other forces for the attack. With wild yells and shouts the battle was on, and although the Dons fought most valiantly the outlying fort fell to the buccaneers, and Morgan, as good as his word, put every living occupant to death, thinking this would terrorize the other garrisons. In order to do this the more effectually, Morgan shut the survivors, men and officers together, in a store-room and, rolling in several kegs of powder, blew the entire company to bits. Then, like fiends, he and his men rushed towards the city. All was confusion, despite the warning the Spaniards had received, and the inhabitants, who had not had time to reach the protection of the forts, rushed screaming hither and thither, casting their valuables into wells and cisterns, hiding in corners and filled with terror. Bursting into the cloisters, the buccaneers dragged out the monks and nuns and urging them with blows and pricks of their swords, forced them to raise the heavy scaling ladders to the walls of the forts, Morgan thinking that the Dons would not fire upon the religious men and women. But in this he was mistaken. The Governor, who throughout had been stoutly defending the castle, had held his own and had wrought terrific execution upon the buccaneers. Time after time the corsairs rushed forward through the storm of bullets and round shot, striving to reach the castle doors, but each time the Dons hurled grenades, burning tar, hot oil and molten lead upon them and drove them back. And when Morgan threatened to force the nuns and priests to place the ladders the brave old Governor replied that ‘never would he surrender while he lived,’ and that he ‘would perform his duty at any costs.’ Despite the piteous appeals of the friars and the nuns as they were beaten forward to the walls, the Governor gave no heed and ordered his men to shoot them down as though they were buccaneers. Carrying fireballs and grenades which they heaved among the garrison, the buccaneers poured over the parapets. Knowing all was lost, the soldiers threw down their arms and begged for quarter, but the courageous Governor, sword in hand, backed against a wall and prepared to resist until the last. Even the buccaneers were won by his bravery and offered quarter if he would surrender, but his only answer was to taunt them and shout back that, ‘I would rather die a valiant soldier than be hanged as a coward.’ “So struck was Morgan by the man’s heroism that he ordered his men to take him alive, and over and over again they closed in upon him. But he was a magnificent swordsman; before his thrusts and blows the buccaneers fell wounded and dead, and deaf to the entreaties of his wife and children, the brave man fought on. At last, finding it impossible to make him prisoner, Morgan ordered him to be shot down, and the brave old Don fell, with his blood-stained sword, among the ring of buccaneers he had killed. The castle was now in Morgan’s hands, and, gathering together the wounded Spaniards, he callously tossed them into a small room, ‘to the intent their own complaints might be the cure of their hurts, for no other was afforded them,’ as Esquemeling puts it. “Then, devoting themselves to a wild orgy of feasting and drinking, the buccaneers gave themselves up to debauchery and excesses until, as Esquemeling points out, they were so maudlin that ‘fifty men might easily have taken the city and killed all the buccaneers.’ But unfortunately the fifty men were not available, and on the following day as usual the buccaneers proceeded to loot the town and torture the people into confessions of the hiding places of their riches. Many died on the rack or were torn to pieces, and while the buccaneers were practicing every devilish cruelty they could invent, word of the taking of Porto Bello had been carried by fugitives to the governor of Panama. He immediately prepared to equip an expedition to attack the buccaneers, but before it arrived Morgan was getting ready to leave, having been in possession of Porto Bello fifteen days. Before departing, however, he sent word to the Governor General, demanding a ransom of one hundred thousand pieces of eight if he did not wish Porto Bello burned and destroyed. Instead of sending the ransom, the Governor dispatched a force of armed men to attack the buccaneers. This Morgan had expected, and, stationing a hundred of his men in ambush in a narrow pass, he put the Spaniards to rout and repeated his threats to the people of the unfortunate town. By hook and by crook the inhabitants managed to raise the huge sum, and Morgan commenced his evacuation in accordance with his promise. “As he was doing so a messenger arrived from the Governor General bearing a letter requesting Morgan to send him ‘some small pattern of the arms wherewith he had, by such violence, taken a great city.’ Evidently the Governor imagined that the buccaneers possessed some novel or marvelous arms, for he could not believe that the place had fallen to the English through ordinary means. Morgan received the messenger courteously and with a flash of grim humor handed him a pistol and a few bullets, telling him to carry them to the Governor and to inform him that ‘he desired him to accept that slender pattern of arms wherewith he had taken Porto Bello and to keep them for a twelvemonth, after which time he would come in person to Panama and fetch them away.’ “Evidently, too, the haughty old Governor had a sense of humor, for ere Morgan sailed away the messenger returned, bearing a message of thanks from the Governor, a gold ring which he was requested to accept with His Excellency’s compliments and a letter stating that Morgan ‘need not give himself the trouble of visiting Panama, for he could promise that he should not speed as well there as he had at Porto Bello.’ “With the vast loot he had won, a treasure amounting to a quarter of a million pieces of eight, thousands of bales of silks, vast stores of merchandise and fabulous sums in bullion, plate and jewels, Morgan left the harried shores of Panama and set sail for Port Royal, where he arrived in safety and was welcomed and lauded as the greatest buccaneer of them all.” CHAPTER IV THE SACKING OF MARACAIBO “But I thought Morgan was Governor of Jamaica and a ‘Sir,’” said Jack. “He was. I’m coming to that presently,” replied his father. “Of course, Morgan, having taken Porto Bello and thus won the greatest fame, buccaneers flocked to him, begging for a chance to join him on his next expedition. Indeed, he could have easily raised a force of several thousand men, but Morgan, despite his faults, was a wise man, a born leader and an experienced buccaneer and he knew that too large a force would be a disadvantage. But realizing that he could command any number of ships and men, he foresaw the possibility of accomplishing such feats as no buccaneer had ever before undertaken. Naming the Island of La Vaca, or Cow Island, south of Santo Domingo, as a rendezvous, Morgan and his old captains set sail and there awaited the coming of the buccaneers. And from every lair they flocked to his standard. French and English, Dutch and Danes, from Tortuga Samaná, the Virgins and the Caymans, they sped to join their fortunes with Morgan. Even the Governor of Jamaica sent forth a ship, a brand-new vessel from New England mounting thirty-six guns, the largest buccaneer ship that had ever borne down upon the hapless Dons. Next in size to her was a French ship, a vessel of twenty-four iron guns and twelve brass carronades which happened to be lying at anchor at the island. Upon her Morgan cast envious eyes and used every argument to induce her captain to join with him. The French, however, were distrustful of the English and flatly refused. And then the redoubtable Morgan showed his teeth and proved himself the cowardly, underhand, treacherous rascal that he was in reality. It seemed that some time previously this big French vessel had been short of provision at sea and, meeting a British buccaneer, had secured supplies, giving in payment not ready cash but bills of exchange on Jamaica and Tortuga. Knowing of this, Morgan, finding he could not induce the French captain to join him, seized upon the incident as a means to carry out his nefarious ends. Inviting the French commander and his officers to dine aboard his ship, Morgan received them hospitably, but no sooner were they seated than he and his men whipped out pistols, seized the Frenchmen and bound them as prisoners. Stating that he had seized them as pirates for having taken provisions from a British ship without pay, he informed the unhappy Frenchmen that he intended to hang them and to confiscate their ship as warning to others. But fate intervened and brought a just and speedy retribution upon Morgan and his men for their treacherous act. Having thus possessed himself of the French flagship, Morgan called a council at which it was agreed to go to Saona Island and wait for the plate fleet from Spain. Then, as usual, the buccaneers boarded their ships and held a farewell feast in celebration of their coming voyage, drinking, carousing and, as was customary, discharging their guns in salute to one another. Half drunk, hilarious and careless, the men did not notice that a gun discharged upon the big flagship of the fleet dropped a bit of smoldering wadding onto the deck. There was a terrific explosion and the vessel was blown to bits, destroying three hundred and fifty English buccaneers and the unfortunate French prisoners who were confined in the hold. Only thirty members of the crew, including Morgan, escaped, they having been within the cabin at the high poop of the vessel and away from the main force of the explosion. “But instead of being a wholesome lesson to Morgan and his fellows, this accident only enraged them, and, claiming that their ship had been blown up by the French prisoners—despite the fact that they were manacled and far from the magazine—they at once seized all the French ships in the harbor and sent them with their crews as prisoners to Jamaica, with word that they had been found with papers authorizing them to commit piracy against the British. In reality the papers were merely permits from the Governor of Barracoa permitting the French to trade in Spanish ports and to ‘cruise against English pirates,’ the clause being inserted as a cloak to cover the reason for the permits. But despite their protests and the fact that they had repeatedly aided the English buccaneers against the Dons, Morgan’s influence was such that the Frenchmen were imprisoned and several were hanged when they reached Jamaica. “Morgan’s brutality was still further shown when, eight days after the explosion, he sent out boats to gather up the bodies of the buccaneers which were now floating about, not, as Esquemeling assures us, ‘with the design of affording them Christian burial, but only to obtain the spoil of their clothes and attire.’ Rings were cut from their dead fingers, earrings torn from their ears, their weapons and garments stripped from the corpses and the naked bodies cast back for the sharks. Then, the loot from their dead comrades having been auctioned off, the buccaneers set sail with fifteen ships—the largest carrying fourteen guns—and nine hundred and sixty men. “Sending some of his ships and men to plunder the farms and villages of Santo Domingo for provisions and cattle, Morgan continued to Saona. But his men met with reverses on the island, many of the buccaneers were killed, and though they escaped they were empty-handed and dared not return to Morgan with their tale of reverses. Impatient at the delay, Morgan at last decided to go on without them, and, with his fleet reduced to eight ships and a force of five hundred men, he started for the Gulf of Maracaibo. “Since it had been looted by L’Ollonois, Maracaibo and its neighboring city of Gibraltar had prospered and grown immensely rich, the fortifications had been greatly strengthened and a Spanish fleet was constantly cruising near to prevent raids by the buccaneers. Arriving off the port at night, Morgan drew close to the harbor bar unseen and opened fire at daybreak. From morn until night the battle raged until, feeling that they could not hold out another day, the garrison evacuated the fort at nightfall and left a slow match leading to the magazine in the hopes of blowing up the buccaneers if they entered. In this they were very nearly successful, but Morgan himself discovered the burning fuse and stamped it out when within six inches of the explosives. “Finding his ships could not enter the shallow harbor, Morgan embarked in boats and canoes and after terrific fighting silenced one fort after another and took the town. Then began an awful scene of butchery and torture. All that L’Ollonois had done in the stricken town before was repeated a hundredfold. The people, rounded up and shackled, were broken on the wheel, torn to pieces on the rack, spread-eagled and flogged to a pulp. Burning fuses were placed between their fingers and toes. Wet rawhide thongs were twisted about their heads and allowed to dry until, as they shrunk, the wretches’ eyes burst from their skulls and many were cut to pieces a bit at a time or flayed alive. Those who had no treasures whose hiding place they could divulge died under their torments, and those who confessed were too far gone to recover. For three terrible weeks this awful work went on, the buccaneers sparing neither young nor old, men, women or children, and daily scouring the countryside to bring new victims to the torture chambers. Then, satisfied he had every cent that it was possible to secure, Morgan loaded his remaining prisoners on his ships and sailed for Gibraltar as L’Ollonois had done. He had sent prisoners ahead, demanding the surrender of the town and threatening to torture and butcher every living soul if resistance were made, but notwithstanding this the inhabitants and the garrison put up a stiff fight. Finding he could not take the place by assault, Morgan started his men overland through the woods, and the people, realizing the buccaneers would take the place, fled with what valuables they could gather into the country, first having spiked the guns and destroyed the powder in the forts. As a result the buccaneers entered the city without a shot fired and found no living soul save one half-witted man. Despite the fact that he was a demented, helpless creature the buccaneers ruthlessly placed him on the rack until he begged for mercy and promised to guide his tormentors to his riches. Following him, they were led to a tumble-down house containing nothing of any value with the exception of three pieces of eight—all the poor man’s earthly possessions. The buccaneers, however, had gotten a crazy idea that the fellow was a rich man masquerading as a dunce, and when in reply to their question he announced that his name was ‘Don Sebastian Sanchez’ and ‘I am brother to the Governor,’ instead of being convinced that he was crazy, the buccaneers believed his ridiculous words and tortured him anew. Despite his shrieks and heart-rending appeals he was racked, his limbs were stretched by cords passed over pulleys and with immense weights attached to them, he was scorched to a crisp by burning palm leaves passed over his face and body, and not till the miserable wretch had died after half an hour of this fiendish torment did the buccaneers cease their efforts to wring from him the secret of his supposed wealth. “The next day the buccaneers captured a poor farmer and his two daughters and threatened them with torture, but the cowering wretches agreed to lead the buccaneers to the hiding places of the inhabitants. Seeing their enemies coming, the Spaniards fled still farther, and the disgruntled Englishmen hanged the peasant and his daughters to trees by the wayside. The buccaneers then set diligently at work, scouring the countryside for prisoners. In one spot they captured a slave, and, promising him freedom and vast amounts of gold if he would show them the hiding places of the Dons, he readily agreed and led them to a secluded house where the buccaneers made prisoners of a number of Spaniards. Then, to make sure that their slave guide would not dare desert them, the buccaneers forced him to murder a number of the helpless Dons before the eyes of the others. This party of Spaniards totaled nearly two hundred and fifty and these the buccaneers examined one at a time, torturing those who denied knowledge of treasure. One man, over seventy years old, a Portuguese by birth, was reported by the treacherous slave to be rich. This the old fellow stoutly denied, claiming that his total wealth was but one hundred pieces of eight and that this had been stolen from him two days previously. In spite of this and his age, the buccaneers, under Morgan’s personal orders, broke both his arms and then stretched him between stakes by cords from his thumbs and great toes. Then, while suspended in this way, the inhuman monsters beat upon the cords with sticks. Not content with this, they placed a two hundred pound stone upon his body, passed blazing palm leaves over his face and head, and then, finding no confession could be wrung from him they carried him to the church and lashed him fast to a pillar where he was left for several days with only a few drops of water to keep him alive. How any mortal could have survived—much less an aged man—is miraculous, but live he did and finally consented to raise five hundred pieces of eight to buy his liberty. The buccaneers, however, scoffed at this, beat him with cudgels and told him it would take five thousand pieces of eight to save his life. Finally he bargained for freedom for one thousand pieces, and a few days later, the money having been paid, he was set at liberty, though, as Esquemeling tells us, ‘so horribly maimed in body that ’tis scarce to be believed he survived many weeks after.’ “But even these fearful and disgusting torments were mild as compared to some that Morgan inflicted on the men and women in his mad lust to wring their riches from them. Dozens were crucified, others were staked out by pointed sticks driven through them into the earth; others were bound with their feet in fires, others roasted alive. For five long, awful weeks they continued their unspeakable atrocities until, finding further efforts useless, and fearing that his retreat to sea would be cut off, Morgan left the stricken town, carrying a number of prisoners for hostages. “At Maracaibo they learned that Spanish warships had arrived and that three armed vessels were blockading the harbor mouth. The largest of these carried forty guns, the second thirty and the smallest twenty-four. That the buccaneers, with no heavy guns and with only small vessels, could escape seemed impossible, but Morgan once more showed himself the resourceful commander and sent a Spanish prisoner to the Admiral in command of the ships demanding a free passage to sea as well as a ransom if Maracaibo was not to be burned. To this the Admiral replied contemptuously, telling Morgan that, provided he would surrender all the plunder and prisoners he had taken, he would allow him and his men to depart, but otherwise would totally destroy them and give no quarter. This letter Morgan read aloud to his men, asking them whether they preferred to fight or lose their plunder. The reply was unanimously that they had rather fight till their last drop of blood rather than abandon what they had won. Then one of the men suggested that they fit up a fire ship, disguise her by logs of wood dressed as men on deck and with dummy cannon at the ports, and let her drift down on the Spanish vessels. Although all approved the idea, still Morgan decided to try guile and diplomacy—with a deal of bluff—before resorting to strenuous measures. Consequently he dispatched another messenger to the Admiral, offering to quit Maracaibo without firing it or exacting ransom, and agreeing to liberate all the prisoners if he and his men were allowed to pass. But the doughty old Spanish commander would have none of this and replied that unless Morgan surrendered according to the original terms within two days he would come and take him. “Finding cajolery useless, Morgan at once hustled about to make the most of his time and to try to escape by force. A ship taken at Gibraltar was loaded with brimstone, powder, palm leaves soaked in pitch and other combustibles. Kegs of powder were placed under the dummy guns and dressed and armed logs were posed upon the decks to resemble buccaneers. Then all the male prisoners were loaded into one boat; all the women, the plate and the jewels into another; the merchandise and things of lesser value in a third. Then, all being ready, the little fleet set forth with the fireship in the lead. It was on the 30th of April, 1669, that the buccaneers started from Maracaibo on this desperate, dare-devil effort to escape, and night was falling as they sighted the three Spanish warships riding at anchor in the middle of the entry to the lake. Unwilling to proceed farther, Morgan anchored his boats, maintained a sharp watch and at daybreak hoisted anchors and headed directly for the Spanish ships. Realizing that Morgan was actually about to attempt to battle with them, the Dons hoisted anchors and prepared to attack. Manned by its courageous if villainous crew, the fireship crashed straight into the Spanish flagship and instantly its men threw grappling irons, binding their combustible vessel to the warship and then, touching match to fuses, took to the small boats. Before the Dons realized what had happened the fireship was a blazing mass; the powder exploding threw flaming tar and brimstone far and near; and in an incredibly short space of time the Spanish flagship was a seething, roaring furnace and, blowing in two, sank to the bottom of the lake. Meanwhile the second warship, fearing a like fate, was run ashore by its crew and was set afire by the Spaniards to prevent her falling into the buccaneer’s hands, while the third ship was captured by Morgan’s men. “But Morgan and his men were not out of the trap yet. The forts controlled the harbor entrance and, flushed with their easy victory over the ships, the buccaneers landed and attacked the castle. But they failed miserably in this and after heavy losses withdrew to their boats. “The following day Morgan, having made a prisoner of a Spanish pilot and learning from him that the sunken ships carried vast riches, left a portion of his men to recover what they could and sailed back to Maracaibo with the captured warship. Here, being once more in a position to dictate terms, he sent a demand to the Admiral, who had escaped and was in the castle, demanding thirty thousand pieces of eight and five hundred head of cattle as his price for sparing the town and his prisoners. He finally consented to accept twenty thousand pieces of eight with the cattle, however, and the following day this was paid. But Morgan was shrewd and refused to deliver the prisoners until he was out of danger and had cleared the harbor, and with his captives set sail. To his delight he found that his men had recovered nearly twenty thousand pieces of eight in coins and bullion from the sunken ships, but he was still doubtful of being able to pass the forts. He thereupon notified his prisoners that unless they persuaded the Governor to guarantee him safe passage he would hang all the captives on his ships. In view of this dire threat a committee of the prisoners went to His Excellency, beseeching him to grant Morgan’s demands. But Don Alonso was no weakling. His reply was to the effect that, had they been as loyal to their King in hindering the buccaneer’s entry as he intended to be in preventing their going out that they would not have found themselves in such troubles. Very crestfallen the poor fellows returned with the ill news. But for once Morgan was not as ruthless as was his wont and forgot all about his threat to execute the blameless captives. He, however, sent word to Don Alonso that if he was not permitted to pass he would get by without a permit and, feeling that he might fail, he at once proceeded to divide the booty. This totaled over a quarter of a million pieces of eight in money, vast quantities of plate and jewels, silks, merchandise of various kinds and many slaves. “All being properly divided, the question arose as to how the little flotilla would pass to sea under the heavy guns of the castle, but this Morgan accomplished by a most brilliant ruse. On the day before he planned to make his dash he loaded his canoes with men and had them paddled towards the shore as if intending to land them. Here, among the low-hanging foliage, the boats waited for a while and then, with all but two or three men lying flat in the bottoms of the canoes, they paddled back to the ships. This was repeated over and over again, and the Spaniards, seeing canoes full of men coming ashore and apparently empty craft returning, were convinced that Morgan intended to make an attack on the land side of the fort. In order to defend themselves the Dons moved practically all their guns and the greater part of their men to the landward side of the castle, exactly as Morgan had foreseen. Then, as night fell, Morgan weighed anchor and without setting sail let his ships drift down with the ebb tide. Not until they were under the walls of the fort were sails hoisted and all speed made towards the harbor mouth. “With shouts and cries the Dons gave the alarm and madly they ran and scurried to get their guns back in position, but the wind was fresh and fair and before the first shot was fired the buccaneers were almost out of range. A few balls tore through the sails, a few round shot splintered the bulwarks and the high poops, and a few men fell, but the damage was of little moment. Out of reach of the guns, Morgan brought his ships to, and, loading his prisoners into small boats, sent them ashore. Then, with a parting shot of seven guns in a broadside, Morgan spread sails once more and headed for Jamaica.” CHAPTER V THE TAKING OF SAN LORENZO “Well, he certainly was clever for all his cruelty,” said Fred. “But what a beast he was. Seems to me he was the worst of all the buccaneers. Even L’Ollonois had some good points.” “Yes,” agreed Mr. Bickford. “Morgan could have made a name for himself as a great general, or an admiral, perhaps, if he had turned his talents to honest purposes. But he was too much of a rascal and too unprincipled to succeed for long, even in piracy. When he returned from taking Maracaibo he believed there was nothing he could not successfully carry out and he began to consider taking even richer and more strongly fortified spots than those he had ravished. “At that time the three richest cities in the New World were Cartagena, Panama and Vera Cruz, and of these the richest was Panama. To Panama all the wealth and treasure from the western coasts of South and Central America and Mexico and the Orient were brought, as well as the fortunes in pearls from the pearl islands, and from Panama, as I have already explained, the riches were carried over the Gold Road to Porto Bello. “But while Panama was so rich, yet it had been free from attacks by buccaneers owing to its position. It was on the Pacific and in order to reach it the buccaneers would be compelled either to sail around Cape Horn; cross the Isthmus overland, or ascend the Chagres River and then go overland. To cross by the Gold Road meant that the forts at Porto Bello would have to be taken, and even after that the buccaneers would be exposed to ambuscades and constant attacks and might well have their retreat cut off. At the mouth of the Chagres was a most powerful fort—San Lorenzo—commanding the river mouth, while Panama itself was very strongly fortified and protected. It seemed impossible that the buccaneers could ever reach the place and yet that was just what Morgan planned to do. “Although it seemed a harebrained scheme, yet so famed had Morgan become that men flocked to his call, clamoring to go on the hazardous expedition, and Morgan appointed the Island of Tortuga as the rendezvous. Here flocked the sea rovers from far and near. They came in ships, boats, canoes and even tramped overland across hostile Hispaniola (Santo Domingo) to join him, until the greatest crowd of buccaneers and the greatest gathering of buccaneer ships the world had ever seen were assembled at Tortuga on October 24, 1670. “To provision the fleet, Morgan equipped four ships with four hundred men and dispatched them to La Rancheria near the present port of Rio de la Hacha in Colombia. His plan was for them to raid the coast towns, seize what maize and cattle were required and come back with supplies and salted meat, thus obtained free of cost. In this the ships were more than successful, for, at the end of five weeks, they returned laden with maize and beef and with a huge amount of loot, for they had taken a Spanish ship, had seized the town and had robbed it and the inhabitants, and had resorted to all their customary barbarities to wring the last piece of eight from the people. “Everything was now in readiness, and Morgan set sail for Cape Tiburón, Haiti, where vessels from Jamaica were to join him. These brought his force up to thirty-seven ships and two thousand fighting men, exclusive of sailors and boys, by far the greatest buccaneer force that ever had set sail to ravish the Spanish cities. Morgan’s flagship carried twenty-two large and six small guns, there were several ships of twenty, eighteen and sixteen guns and the smallest mounted four. Finding it impossible to command such a huge fleet by himself, Morgan divided it into two squadrons with a vice admiral, commanders and captains for each, and to these he issued elaborate commissions to act against the Spaniards, for all the world as though he were the King of England. “The next matter to attend to was the agreement as to compensation for death or accidents, and the trip was considered so hazardous that the amounts to be paid were double the usual sums. Then the fleet set sail for Old Providence or, as the buccaneers called it, St. Catherine, for in order to be sure that his retreat was not cut off, Morgan realized he must destroy this heavily fortified spot and leave a garrison of his own in charge. Moreover, he knew that outlaws and brigands were imprisoned there, and that these men, if released, would join his forces and would be invaluable as guides in crossing the Isthmus of Panama. “On the 29th of December, 1670, they reached St. Catherine, which Morgan expected to take easily. However, since his former attack under Mansvelt, the Dons had greatly strengthened the forts. Landing about one thousand men, Morgan attempted to take the place by land, but the Spaniards kept up a galling fire, the buccaneers were without provisions—as they had expected to live off their enemies—and at night a pouring rain came on, drenching the buccaneers to the skin. At this time, so tired, hungry and miserable were the men that, had the Dons but known it, they could easily have wiped out the buccaneers with a force of less than one hundred men, and no doubt had they done so Panama would have been saved. The rain continued incessantly the next day and the buccaneers were able to do nothing. So starved and desperate were they that when an old horse was discovered in a field they instantly killed it and fought over it like wolves, devouring even the offal. By this time the men began to grumble, and even suggested giving up and became mutinous. Morgan, seeing that unless something was done at once his expedition would be a failure, resorted to his old game of bluff, and sent a canoe with a flag of truce to the Governor, demanding the surrender of the island and threatening to give no quarter unless it was done at once. So terrified were the Dons that the Governor merely asked two hours to consider and at the end of that time sent to Morgan and offered to deliver the place provided Morgan would agree to carry out a deception by which it would appear that the Governor was overpowered. “The proposition was that Morgan should come at night and open an attack on St. Jerome fort, while at the same time his fleet approached Santa Teresa fort and landed men at the battery of St. Matthew. The Governor was then to pass from one fort to the other and purposely fall into the buccaneer’s hands. He was then to pretend that the English forced him to betray his men and was to lead the buccaneers into St. Jerome. But he stipulated that no bullets should be used in the buccaneers’ guns and guaranteed that his men would fire into the air. To this treacherous scheme Morgan agreed and the island was of course taken in a sham battle. But within a short time His Excellency bitterly repented of his deed. The buccaneers looted right and left, they tore down houses to make fires for cooking the stolen poultry and livestock and they made prisoners of all the Spaniards on the island. These totaled four hundred and fifty, including one hundred and ninety soldiers and eight bandits who at once joined Morgan’s force. As there was nothing in the way of valuables in the place the people escaped the customary tortures, and, shutting the women in the churches, Morgan ordered the men into the country to secure provisions. “Having accumulated a vast supply of food, many tons of powder, immense quantities of arms and many cannon, Morgan prepared to attack San Lorenzo at the Chagres mouth. He had no mind to risk his own precious neck in this desperate venture, however; but making himself comfortable at St. Catherine, he dispatched four ships with about four hundred men under Captain Brodely, a notorious buccaneer who had served with Morgan under Mansvelt. Anchoring his ships about three miles from the mouth of the Chagres, Brodely landed his men and attempted to attack the castle by land. But despite their brigand guides the buccaneers discovered that it was impossible to approach the fort under cover, the country having been cleared for a long distance about the fort, while in addition the deep mangrove swamps made progress next to impossible. But the buccaneers dared not turn back and face Morgan, and so, although fully exposed to the fire from the fort, they rushed across the open space with drawn swords in one hand and fireballs in the other, but the firing was terrific. The Dons had erected heavy palisades outside of the fortress walls, and presently the buccaneers were compelled to retreat. At nightfall, however, they made another assault, throwing their fire balls at the palisades, attempting to scale them and fighting like demons. But they were beaten off again and again, and their case seemed hopeless when, by the merest accident, fate played into their hands. In the heat of the assault, one of the buccaneers was struck by an arrow in the back, which completely penetrated his body. Mad with pain, the fellow drew the missile out through his breast, wrapped a bit of rag around it and, dropping it into his musket, fired it back into the fort. “But the buccaneer’s hasty and unthinking act won the day for the corsairs. The cotton rag about the arrow caught fire from the powder, it fell unnoticed upon some palm-thatched houses within the fort, and ere the Dons realized what had happened the buildings were ablaze. Madly the Spaniards strove to quench the flames, but the fire was beyond control, it reached a magazine, and there was terrific explosion. During the confusion and panic that ensued the buccaneers rushed to the palisades and, piling inflammable material about them, soon had them burning furiously. Presently the stakes began to fall, carrying down masses of earth that had been piled between them, and over these the yelling buccaneers swarmed to the assault. Under a rain of stink pots and fire balls, boiling oil and molten lead hurled at them by the garrison, the English fell everywhere, and at last, seeing they could not gain the inner works, they withdrew once more. “But despite their losses they were elated, for the palisades were blazing everywhere and by midnight they were entirely consumed. When morning dawned only the charred and fallen stakes remained and great masses of earth had filled the ditch. The commandant, however, had stationed his men upon these mounds and both sides kept up an incessant fire of musketry. Within the castle the flames still raged, for the only available water in the fort was contained in a huge cistern in the lower part of the castle. Moreover, a party of the buccaneers was detailed to snipe the Spaniards fighting the fire and carrying water, while the others, hiding as best they could, picked off the men at the guns and those guarding the fallen palisades. Noticing one spot where the Governor himself was stationed in command of twenty-five picked troops, Captain Brodely led a sudden charge and succeeded in taking the breach. “Even the buccaneers were amazed at the valiant resistance they met, and, in his chronicles of the battle, Esquemeling particularly calls attention to the courageousness of the Dons. Once within the walls, however, the battle was practically won and, fighting hand to hand with pistols, pikes, daggers, swords and even stones, the British and the Spaniards battled furiously. Not a Spaniard asked for quarter; the Governor fell, fighting to the last, with a bullet through his brain, and when finally the few survivors saw that their cause was hopeless they leaped from the parapets into the river rather than surrender. And when the buccaneers found themselves masters of the fortress they discovered that of the three hundred and fourteen soldiers who had formed the garrison only thirty remained alive, and of these over twenty were seriously wounded, while not a single living officer was to be found. “The buccaneers, however, were greatly troubled, despite their hard-won victory—which had cost them nearly two hundred men—for the prisoners informed them that a party of volunteers had managed to steal from the fort, had passed through the buccaneers’ lines and had carried word of the attack and of Morgan’s coming to Panama. All plans of a surprise were now hopeless and realizing that quick work was necessary Captain Brodely at once sent a ship to St. Catherine bearing word to Morgan of the taking of San Lorenzo. “Hastily lading his ships with provisions and the unfortunate prisoners he had taken, Morgan left a garrison of his own men in the strongest fort, burned the town, destroyed the other forts, cast the cannon into the sea and set sail for the Chagres. Eight days after the fall of the castle he arrived, but his men were so elated at seeing the British flag flying from the castle that they succeeded in running four of the ships onto a bar at the river’s mouth. One of these was Morgan’s flagship, and while all the goods and persons on the vessels were saved the ships were a total loss. As soon as he landed, Morgan ordered his St. Catherine prisoners to be put to work repairing the fort and setting up new palisades and, leaving a force of five hundred men at the fort and with one hundred and fifty more upon his ships, Morgan set sail up the Chagres in small boats with a force of two thousand two hundred men. Thinking to be able to supply himself and his men with provisions taken from the Spaniards, Morgan carried practically no supplies and this very nearly caused the utter failure of his expedition. “It was on the 18th of January, 1671, that Morgan left San Lorenzo in his five boats and thirty-two canoes, with several pieces of light artillery and all the pomp of a military organization, even to drummers and trumpeters. The first day they covered barely twenty miles, reaching a spot known as Los Bracos. But already the men were suffering from hunger and being cramped and crowded in the small boats. Landing, they went in search of food, but the Dons, having been forewarned, had fled, carrying with them or destroying everything edible, and the buccaneers were ‘forced to stay their bellies with a pipe of tobacco.’ “The following day they continued to Cruz de Juan Gallego, but, finding the river very low and choked by fallen trees, they were here compelled to forsake the boats and march overland, leaving one hundred and sixty men to guard the boats and their retreat. After a long march they reached a spot on the river where canoes could be used, and with infinite labor the company was transported up stream to Cedro Bueno. The buccaneers were by now on the verge of starvation, but there was nothing to do but keep on, and at noon on the fourth day they discovered a settlement. But not a soul was there and not a morsel to eat, save a few crumbs of bread and a number of leather bags. Famished, the buccaneers fell upon the leathern sacks and devoured them. For an account of this I can do no better than read you Esquemeling’s narrative. He says: ‘Thus they made a huge banquet of the bags of leather which doubtless would have been more grateful unto them if divers quarrels had not arisen concerning who should have the greatest share. They conjectured that five hundred Spaniards had been there, more or less, and these they were now infinitely desirous to meet, intending to devour some of them rather than perish. Whom they would certainly in that occasion have roasted or boiled had they been able to take them. Some persons who were never out of their mothers’ kitchens may ask how these pirates could eat, swallow and digest those pieces of leather so hard and dry. To whom I only answer: That could they once experiment with hunger, or rather famine, they would certainly find the manner, by their own necessity, as the pirates did. For these first took the leather and sliced it in pieces. Then did they beat it between stones and rub it, often dipping it in the water of the river to render it supple and tender. Lastly they scraped off the hair and roasted or broiled it over a fire. And thus being cooked they cut it in small morsels and eat it, helping it down with frequent gulps of water, which by good fortune they had near at hand.’ “And when night fell on the close of the fourth day and not a scrap of food had been found in any of the deserted settlements and camps, the pirate who had had the foresight to retain a small piece of leather was indeed a happy man, for the others went supperless to sleep. “At noon of the fifth day they reached Barbacoas, where in a cave, the buccaneers, to their intense joy, discovered two sacks of meal, two jars of wine and some bananas. These Morgan divided among the men who were suffering the most, and somewhat encouraged they proceeded on that terrible march. On the sixth day the men proceeded very slowly, partly from weakness and partly owing to the rough character of the land, and to keep themselves alive they devoured grasses, leaves and roots. But at noon they found a barrel of corn at a deserted plantation and without waiting devoured it dry and raw. Hardly an hour later they met an ambuscade of Indians, and feeling confident that they would be victors and would secure plentiful provisions they threw away the precious corn. But to their chagrin the Indians, after discharging a shower of arrows, disappeared like shadows in the forest, leaving no food and nothing to mark their presence save half a dozen dead buccaneers. “On the seventh day the buccaneers prepared and cleaned their arms, expecting to meet resistance just ahead, and then, crossing the river, they hurried forward to the village of La Cruz. As they approached they saw smoke rising above the trees, and, convinced that this meant the place was occupied, they made all haste towards it. Judge of their disgust when they found the village deserted and in flames, with, as Esquemeling humorously remarks, ‘nothing wherewith to refresh themselves unless it were good fires to warm themselves, which they wanted not.’ “But a search revealed something to eat—a few stray dogs and cats which they butchered and devoured raw and bleeding, and hardly had they completed this horrid repast when a party of the men found a sack of bread and sixteen jars of wine in the ruins of a stable. Scarcely had they commenced to eat and drink, however, when they were taken violently ill, and they at once decided the wine had been poisoned, although, as their chronicler very wisely says, it was more probable that it was ‘their huge want of sustenance in that whole voyage and the manifold sorts of trash they had eaten.’ “Whatever the cause, it compelled the expedition to remain there for an entire day. This village, then called La Cruz, was on the site of the present Las Cruces, the head of navigation on the Chagres and from which a branch of the Gold Road led to Panama about twenty-five miles distant. On the eighth day, Morgan sent forward a scouting party of two hundred men to find the best route and to learn of any ambuscades. This they did to their sorrow when, at Quebrada Obscura, they were met with a hurricane of arrows shot by Indians from hiding places in the deep forest on the summits of the cañon’s walls. A number of the buccaneers were killed and many wounded and a few Indians fell, but seeing such overwhelming numbers of the British approaching they soon took to their heels, and the buccaneers passed on and entered the savanna country. “Here they suffered greatly, being compelled to pass the night in the open in a pouring rain and enduring agonies from biting insects and mosquitoes. On the morning of the ninth day they came to a steep hill from the summit of which they saw the Pacific gleaming in the sun and with two ships sailing from Panama to Taboga. Elated at finding themselves so near their goal they hurried down the slope and in a little meadow discovered a number of cattle, horses and asses. Hastily butchering and dressing these they kindled huge fires, half cooked the still warm flesh over the flames and gorged themselves like beasts. Indeed, to once more quote Esquemeling, ‘they more resembled cannibals than Europeans at this banquet, the blood many times running down from their beards to their middles.’ “Continuing, they came at evening in sight of a party of two hundred Spaniards, who challenged them and then retreated, and before nightfall they saw the tower of the cathedral of Old Panama looming against the sky. Sounding their trumpets, beating their drums, throwing hats in air; leaping and shouting with joy, the buccaneers, knowing the end of their awful march was over, pitched their camp for the night in preparation of an assault on the morrow. “But the buccaneers were not to rest in peace. Fifty horsemen appeared, taunting and insulting the English just out of gunshot, and soon the big cannon of the forts began to thunder and roar and the shot fell all about the buccaneers’ camp. Soon thereafter a party of fully two hundred cavalry galloped across the fields from the town, and presently the buccaneers discovered that they were completely surrounded and, from being the besiegers they had been transformed into the besieged. “But having done so much and survived, the rough corsairs gave no thought or worry to this and ‘began every one to open his satchel and without napkin or plate fell to eating very heartily the remaining pieces of bulls’ and horses’ flesh which they had reserved since noon. This being done they laid themselves down upon the grass with great repose and huge satisfaction, expecting only with impatience the dawning of the next day.’ Thus does Esquemeling describe that fateful evening, the close of the day which foreshadowed the doom of the richest city of New Spain and which ere another sun set would be a blazing funeral pyre and a bloody shambles with the shrieks and screams of tortured beings rending the air and rising loud above the roaring of the flames.” CHAPTER VI THE SACK OF PANAMA “There’s something I’d like to ask, Uncle Henry,” said Fred, as Mr. Bickford paused in his narrative and reached for an old book. “You spoke of the British flag flying from San Lorenzo. I thought the pirates always used a black flag with a skull and bones.” “And, Dad, how did they dress?” asked Jack. “Did they wear uniforms or did they dress like the pictures of pirates, with big earrings and handkerchiefs about their heads and their sashes stuck full of pistols and knives?” “Those are questions well taken,” replied Mr. Bickford, “and really important if we are to understand the truth about the buccaneers and their lives. The ‘Jolly Roger’ was never the emblem of the ‘Brethren of the Main,’ as they called themselves, but later, after the buccaneers were dispersed and a few had turned out-and-out pirates, the black flag with its symbol of death became a recognized pirate standard. But in the heydey of the buccaneers, when they attacked only Spanish ships and Spanish cities, they fought under the colors of their countries—British, French or Dutch, as the case might be, and very often, in one fleet, there would be ships under the various flags. In addition, each prominent buccaneer leader had his own colors—much as merchant shipowners have their house flags—which were flown on all the ships under the leader. The flag might be of almost any conventional design, but it was known and recognized by all the buccaneers. “Thus, Bartholomew Sharp’s flag was a blood-red burgee bearing a bunch of white and green ribbons; Sawkins’ colors were a red flag striped with yellow; Peter Harris flew a plain green ensign; John Coxon used a plain red burgee; Cook used a red flag striped with yellow and bearing a hand with a sword; Hawkins’ was appropriately a red flag with a black hawk upon it and so on. In garments, the buccaneers were not by any means uniform or particular. The rank and file of sailors dressed in rough clothes, as a rule, like the ordinary seamen of their times, in loose knee trousers or ‘shorts,’ coarse shirts and low, heavy shoes on their bare feet and with knitted caps or bandannas on their heads. Many wore the costume of the real buccaneers of the woods—rawhide shoes and leg coverings, leather jackets and trousers and palm hats, while the majority wore any odds and ends they could pick up. After a foray they often togged themselves out in the garments of their victims—brocades, silks and satins, gold lace and plumed hats, often stiff and caked with the life-blood of their late owners. But the ordinary buccaneer was a spendthrift drunkard ashore and any finery he possessed usually went to pay for his debaucheries before he had been on land twenty-four hours, after which he was left half naked. The leaders or captains, however, dressed like dandies. To be sure, their wardrobes were often made up of miscellaneous pieces looted from the wealthy Spaniards, and, like their men, they were not over particular as to the condition they were in, but they were more or less thrifty, had plenty of ready cash and spent small fortunes in buying the most brilliant and costly costumes and trappings. Here, for example, is a description of the costume worn by Morgan. ‘A fine linen shirt brave with Italian lace with velvet waistcoat of scarlet, much laced with gold and a plum-colored greatcoat reaching to his knees and with great gold buttons fashioned from doubloons and trimmed with heavy braid of gold. Upon his legs, breeches of saffron silk, belaced like unto his shirt and ruffled, and hose of sky-blue silk. Soft top boots of red cordovan with huge buckles of silver beset with gems and his hat of Sherwood green belaced with gold and gemmed, and wherein was placed a crimson plume draping onto his shoulder. His periwig was lustrous brown and at his side he bore a Toledo rapier, jeweled at the hilt, on a belt of gray shagreen buckled with gold, and bore also a staff, gold headed and tasseled.’ Quite a striking figure, surely, reminding us of one of the ‘three musketeers.’ And here is the description of another buccaneer chieftain: ‘A long surtout of green satin with wide skirts slit far up the arms to give his muscles play. Breeches wide and short of bullock-blood satin and hose of canary silk.’ So you see the pirate or buccaneer of fiction is by no means typical of the real thing. However, in one respect they were all much alike. When on the ‘warpath,’ as we may say, they wore all the pistols and daggers they could stow in belts or sashes, they invariably carried heavy curved cutlasses with peculiar scallop shell-shaped hilts and, in addition, they carried muskets slung over their shoulders with horns of powder and pouches of bullets. Moreover, men and officers alike were inordinately fond of gewgaws and jewelry, and rings in ears were almost universal, as they were with all seamen of their time and for years later. “And now let us return to Morgan and his men encamped on the plain before ‘ye goodlye and statlye citie of Panama.’ “Early the next day—the tenth after leaving San Lorenzo—Morgan marshaled his men upon the plain and with drums beating and trumpets blaring, marched like a miniature army towards the doomed city. It was soon evident that to follow the high road would cost the buccaneers dearly, and at his guides’ suggestion Morgan made a detour, in order to approach the city through the woods. This was totally unexpected by the Spaniards and in order to check the buccaneers’ advance the troops were compelled to leave their forts and guns and meet the enemy in the open. The Spanish numbered four regiments of foot soldiers, totaling twenty-four hundred; two squadrons of cavalry, amounting to four hundred men, and a large number of slaves who were driving a herd of two thousand wild bulls which they expected would charge the buccaneers and cause consternation among them. “Reaching a low hill, the English looked with amazement at the overwhelming forces sent to meet them and for the first time their confidence began to waver. As Esquemeling puts it, ‘Yea, few there were but wished themselves at home or at least free from the obligation of that engagement wherein they perceived their lives must be narrowly concerned.’ But they had come too far, had undergone too many hardships, and had the richest city of the New World too near, to falter or turn back and, knowing no quarter would be given them, they swore a solemn oath to fight until death. “Dividing his men into three troops, Morgan then ordered the best marksmen, to the number of two hundred, to scatter and advance and pick off the Spaniards before the main body of buccaneers charged. The Dons at once attempted a charge of cavalry, but the rains had softened the ground and had transformed it to a quagmire; they could not maneuver properly and the accurate fire from the buccaneer sharpshooters brought them down by scores. Notwithstanding this, the Spaniards fought courageously and the infantry tried again and again to force their way through the buccaneers in order to support the cavalry. Then the bulls were urged forward; with cracking whips and shouts from the slaves they were stampeded towards the buccaneers, and like an avalanche they came plunging on, a sea of wildly tossing horns, thundering hoofs and foaming nostrils. But the buccaneers were the last men in the world to be demoralized by cattle. They had made hunting savage wild bulls their profession and with shouts, trumpets and waving hats they turned the stampede to one side while the few bulls that kept on and dashed among the British were shot down or hamstrung ere they did the least damage. “The battle had now raged for two hours; practically all the Spanish cavalry were killed or unhorsed, and the infantry, discouraged and demoralized, fired one last volley and then, throwing down their muskets, fled to the city. Many were not able to gain the town and tried to conceal themselves in the woods, but these the buccaneers hunted down and butchered wherever found. “Upon the field the Dons had left six hundred slain, in addition to several hundred wounded, and the buccaneers had lost, between killed and wounded, nearly half as many. Weary with their long tramp overland and the battle, the English were in no condition to follow up their victory, but Morgan forced them on and after a short rest they resumed their march towards the city. The approach, however, was directly under the fire of the cannon in the forts and with the great guns roaring constantly and the buccaneers falling at every step the English kept doggedly on until, after three hours of fighting, they were in possession of the city. “Madly they rushed hither and thither, ruthlessly cutting down and pistoling all they met, men, women and children, broaching rum casks, looting shops and houses, destroying for mere lust and wantonness until, after a great deal of difficulty, Morgan got his men under control and, assembling them in the market place, gave strict orders that none should touch or drink any liquor owing to the fact, so he said, that he had won a confession by torture from prisoners that all the wine had been poisoned. In reality, he undoubtedly foresaw that, should his men become drunk, they would fall easy victims to the Spaniards and that the Dons thus might retake the city. “Morgan, however, was in a frenzy, an overpowering passion, a demoniacal rage, for the people, having been warned of his coming, had carried off the bulk of the riches in the city. The most precious altar pieces, the wonderful gold altar of San José church, the chests of coins, the bullion and plate, vast fortunes in gems and the most valuable merchandise had all been loaded hurriedly onto ships which had sailed away, no one knew whither, long before the buccaneers arrived. There were to be sure, boats within the harbor, but it was low tide—the tide in the Pacific rises and falls for nearly twenty feet—the boats were high and dry, and Morgan could not even send a craft in chase of the fleeing treasure ships. “Beside himself with rage, Morgan secretly ordered the city fired and in a moment the place was a hell of raging flames. Morgan, in order to excite his men the more, and to bring greater revenge upon the Spaniards, claimed that the Dons had started the blaze, but there is no question that he was the culprit, for Esquemeling, who was present, does not hesitate to make the statement. Morgan, however, had overstepped his mark; even his men fought valiantly side by side with the Spaniards to extinguish the flames, but to no avail. In half an hour an entire street was a smoldering heap of ruins and as most of the city consisted of flimsy houses of native cedar and of thatched and wattled huts it burned like tinder. And here let me point out that the accepted ideas of this old city of Panama are very erroneous. Because the ruins left standing are of stone, the public, and many historians, have assumed that it was a city of stone buildings. This, however, was not the case. Esquemeling particularly states that, ‘all the houses of the city were built of cedar, being of curious and magnificent structure and richly adorned within, especially with hangings and paintings, being two thousand of magnificent and prodigious building with five thousand of lesser quality.’ Moreover, in the official description of the city, preserved in the Archives of Seville, it is stated that the houses were of wood, and they were divided into two classes,—those with and those without floors, the latter being greatly in the majority. Thus it is easily seen how a fire would sweep the city and wipe it out of existence in a few hours, leaving only the solidly built stone buildings remaining. Of these there were a number, including eight monasteries, two churches and a hospital, the cathedral, the slave market, the governor’s palace, the treasury and the forts. One of the finest buildings was the slave exchange owned by Genoese slave merchants, and within this, when the town fell to the buccaneers, were over two hundred, cowering, helpless slaves. Guarding the doors that none might escape, Morgan ordered the place burnt and for hours the screams and shrieks of the manacled, helpless blacks and Indians drowned all other sounds as the poor creatures were slowly roasted to death. “For four weeks the city burned, while the buccaneers camped within the charred ruins, but taking great care not to become separated, as they well knew that large numbers of the Spaniards were lurking near, fully armed and ready to take advantage of the least carelessness on the part of the invaders. “In the meantime, the buccaneers searched the ruins for loot, explored the wells and cisterns and recovered large amounts of hidden treasure and valuables which had survived the flames. Meanwhile, too, Morgan sent out five hundred heavily armed men to scour the surrounding country and bring in all prisoners and valuables they could find, and two days later they returned, bringing over two hundred captives. Each day new parties were sent out and constantly they returned bearing more loot and additional captives until the countryside for miles about was a desolate uninhabited waste. “Then, to wring confessions of where the miserable folk had secreted their valuables, Morgan commenced such a series of devilish tortures and inhumanities as the world had probably never seen before or since. One poor wretch who was a mere serving man was captured while wearing a pair of his master’s ‘taffety breeches’ which he had donned in the confusion of the attack. Moreover, hanging to the trousers was a small key, and these things convinced the buccaneers that the fellow was well-to-do and that the key belonged to some secret chest containing his wealth. In vain the fellow protested that he knew nothing of it, that the garments and the key were his master’s and that he was merely a servant. Paying no heed to his screams, the buccaneers placed him on the rack and stretched him until his arms were pulled from their sockets. Still the man protested his ignorance and the inhuman monsters twisted a thong about his forehead until his eyes popped from their orbits. Even this awful torture was, of course, without result, and stringing him up by the thumbs, they flogged him within an inch of his life, sliced off his ears and nose, singed his bleeding sightless features with burning straw and, still unsuccessful in their attempts to learn the supposed secret of his treasure, they ordered a slave to run him through with a lance. There is no need to describe other examples of Morgan’s fiendishness. He spared neither young nor old, men or women, and the priests and nuns were treated with even greater cruelty than any others. Only the most prominent and important men and women were free from tortures, and these Morgan herded together to hold, under threat of death or worse, for ransom. “For three weeks the buccaneers occupied the ruined city, torturing, slaying, committing every devilishness imaginable, until even Morgan’s men sickened with the sights and a large portion of them planned to steal away in a ship and desert their leader. Morgan, however, heard of the plot, destroyed all the ships and ordered preparations made to leave the city and return to San Lorenzo. But before he left he sent certain prisoners to outlying districts demanding ransoms for those he held, and for days wealth flowed in from friends of the captives and many were freed. Still, hundreds remained, and on the 14th of February, 1671, Morgan and his men left the city, and, with one hundred and seventy-two pack mules laden with booty and six hundred prisoners, he started on the long and terrible overland trip. “Never did heaven look down upon a more pitiable, awful spectacle than that presented by the buccaneers with their captives. Surrounded by the armed buccaneers, the prisoners—many of them tender, high-bred ladies and young children—were forced over the rough trail and across rivers. ‘Nothing,’ says Esquemeling, ‘was to be heard save the lamentations, cries, shrieks and doleful sighs of those who were persuaded that Morgan designed to transport them to his own country as slaves.’ Given barely enough food and water to sustain life, many of them wounded, all terrified and frightened, they were forced on by blows, curses, prods with swords or rawhide lashes. Women, unable to endure, fell upon their knees and implored Morgan to permit them to go back to their loved ones to live in huts of straw as they had no houses left, but to one and all he replied, with a laugh, that he came not to hear lamentations and cries but to gain money. Often, the women and children would stagger and fall, and if unable to rise were pistoled or run through, the others staggering over their dead bodies. And yet, in the midst of this awful march, Morgan exhibited that strange paradoxical nature of his and performed a gallant and commendable act. It happened that among the prisoners was a lady who belonged on the island of Taboga, a most lovely and virtuous woman according to Esquemeling, and to her buccaneer guards she stated, amid her sobs and shrieks, that she had sent two priests to secure her ransom, but that having obtained the money they had used it to secure the release of their own friends. This tale reached Morgan’s ears and instantly he halted his men, made an investigation and finding it true at once released the woman, made her a present of the amount of her ransom, swept off his plumed hat, bent his knee and kissed her finger-tips and, with expressions of deepest sorrow for her state, sent her happily on her way with an armed escort. Then, to even scores, he made prisoners of the treacherous priests, and, as Esquemeling tells us, ‘used them according to the deserts of their incompassionate intrigues.’ “By the time La Cruz was reached on March 5, 1671, the bulk of the captives who still lived had been ransomed, and, embarking with those remaining and with a number of new prisoners taken at La Cruz, Morgan and his men started down the Chagres. “When midway to San Lorenzo, Morgan again halted, ordered every one searched to be sure they had concealed no booty and, to show his fairness, insisted that he too must be searched, ‘even to the soles of his boots.’ Then once more they resumed their way, and on March 9th reached the mouth of the Chagres and the fortress. “Soon after he arrived, Morgan loaded a boat with the prisoners he had taken at St. Catherine and sent them to Porto Bello with a demand that a ransom should be paid for the evacuation of San Lorenzo without its being destroyed. This time, however, Morgan’s bluff was called, and a message was returned stating that not a farthing would be paid and Morgan could do as he pleased with the castle. “Meantime, the loot was divided—Morgan doing the dividing—and at once grumblings and complaints arose and the men openly accused Morgan of keeping far more than his agreed share. And there is little wonder that they did, for, despite the immense booty taken, Morgan gave but two hundred pieces of eight to each man! “Then Morgan showed his yellow streak and, sneaking secretly aboard his ship, while at his orders his men were demolishing the fort, he sailed away, leaving the buccaneers to follow as best they might. With scarcely any provisions, with no commander of experience, the deserted buccaneers were in a sad state. As Esquemeling quaintly says, ‘Morgan left us all in such a miserable condition as might well serve for a lively representation of what reward attends wickedness at the latter end of life.’ As a matter of fact, they separated, took to sea in the remaining ships and scattered to the four winds, carrying on a desultory and more or less successful buccaneering life on their own account. Thus, by treachery, Morgan possessed himself of his men’s hard-won loot, he double-crossed and deserted the men who, rough and villainous as they were, had stood by him through thick and thin and had made his most famous deed possible, and his career as a buccaneer was over. “But the monuments to his awful deeds remain. Above the placid Chagres’ mouth old Fort San Lorenzo still frowns down. Its quaint sentry boxes jut from the battered walls; the great guns lie rusting and corroded in the crumbling embrasures; piles of round shot are overgrown with weeds and vines; the cisterns where the Dons dipped the water to quench the flames caused by that blazing arrow are still there. Within the dungeons are rusty leg irons, manacles and heavy chains; the patched walls, where Morgan’s toiling prisoners repaired the breaches of his buccaneers’ attack, are plainly visible; and the deep trench, half filled with the piles of dirt whereon the gallant Governor made his last stand, are there for all to see. “And across the Isthmus—by the shores of the Pacific—looms the lonely, ruined tower of the cathedral in Old Panama. Near it are the walls of the ancient fort, the gaunt arches of a burned monastery, the solid massive walls of the slave mart wherein those cowering wretches were roasted at Morgan’s orders and, spanning a little stream, is the stone bridge over which the buccaneers fought and fell as they took the city. Half hidden in the jungle are the treasure vaults that once held incalculable fortunes in plate and gold, in ingots and jewels, in pieces of eight, onzas and doubloons. Among the shrubbery one may still pick up bits of glass and china, hinges and locks, buttons and stray coins, even an occasional pistol barrel or sword hilt, all warped, misshapen, melted by the flames that wiped Old Panama from the map when Morgan, in his rage, fired the richest city of New Spain and left death and destruction, smoldering ruins and distorted bleeding corpses to testify to the most wanton, ruthless deed ever perpetrated by a buccaneer.” CHAPTER VII THE MISFORTUNES OF MONSIEUR OGERON “Gosh, I’m glad the Spaniards fooled Morgan and got most of their things away!” exclaimed Jack. “What became of the treasure, Dad; did they bring it back after Morgan left?” “No one knows what became of the bulk of it,” replied his father. “One or two of the ships were never heard from. They were probably wrecked or perhaps their crews mutinied and made off with the valuables. One vessel was driven ashore on the coasts of Darien and the treasure went down with it. The priceless cargoes of others were buried in out-of-the-way spots and no one has ever discovered them as far as known, while a few of the ships returned after the buccaneers had gone. Of course the town was in ruins and, realizing that the situation was too exposed, the Dons moved a few miles to the west and built the present city of Panama, using the stones and bricks from the ruins in making the more important buildings. And here let me tell you a little story—a most romantic and fascinating tale that throws some light on the question of what became of the treasures the Spaniards saved from Morgan’s clutches. “In the old city the richest and most famed church was that of San José. Like all the churches, it received its tithe or share of all gold and riches passing through Panama, but the brothers who owned San José saw fit to use their share to fashion a huge altar of beaten gold, a marvelous, glorious structure unequalled in all the world and which became famed far and wide. Indeed it is said that it was mainly the stories of the golden altar of San José and the heavily jeweled vestments and images in the church that led Morgan to sack the town. When word of the taking of San Lorenzo reached Panama, the priests of San José church hurriedly removed the far-famed altar piecemeal and loading it onto a ship sailed away. Months later, when the new city was being built, the priests returned and busied themselves in building a new San José church near the harbor shores in the new city. But they were evidently no longer rich. The church was a tiny, obscure, unattractive affair half hidden among other buildings, as it still stands to-day, at the corner of Avenue A and 8th Street in Panama City. And within the church, in place of the wonderful altar of beaten gold, they erected a plain white altar—the poorest of all among the churches in the city. Time went on. There were slave uprisings, fires, rebellions against Spain and insurrections. The country was turbulent and unsettled, but the brothers of San José church had nothing to tempt robbers, bandits or revolutionists and they and their little stucco church were left in peace. Even the fires that swept the town and destroyed many of the larger churches spared the little affair on Avenue A. Then came the Americans and the Canal; Panama won her independence, Uncle Sam sanitized the city, established law and order, and bloody, unsettled days were a thing of the past. “Then for days the priests of San José church busied themselves with mysterious doings behind closed doors and at last, lo and behold, where the white altar had stood, once more gleamed the ancient altar of gold! Through all the years the friars had guarded their secret well. Under its coating of white paint the famed altar had been hidden with never a suspicion of its existence and now that it was safe the white paint had been cleaned off and once more the glorious altar of precious metal glowed and scintillated in the sunlight pouring upon it through the stained glass windows. It is one of the sights of Panama of to-day, but few know of its existence, still fewer know of its history and in the little church on a back street few tourists realize that there stands the most wonderful and the only real treasure salvaged from the ancient city destroyed by the buccaneers. “And now, boys, let us go back to Morgan and follow his career after he returned to Jamaica from the looting of Panama. While he had been away, peace between Spain and England had been declared, and the King of England, hearing that Jamaica’s Governor encouraged the buccaneers and even shared in their raids, appointed a new governor and ordered the old one to appear before the Crown and explain his behavior. Thus, when Morgan arrived at Jamaica, he found himself declared a pirate and placed under arrest along with the ex-governor. And with his discredited official friend the buccaneer chieftain was transported to England to stand trial for piracy. “No one knows exactly what arguments Morgan used or how he managed it; but he was a glib talker, a man of great personal magnetism and, moreover, had vast riches at his disposal, and doubtless he employed all these resources to the best of his ability. At any rate, instead of being hung as he richly deserved, he was knighted by the king, was appointed Lieutenant Governor of Jamaica and sent back to the island with instructions to suppress piracy. Maybe the King had method in his madness and thought that if it took a thief to catch a thief it would be well to have a pirate to catch pirates. And in this he was not mistaken. Morgan, having already won the enmity of his former comrades and being discredited as a buccaneer, turned upon the corsairs, and with all the cruelty and unscrupulousness he had exhibited when attacking the Dons, he hunted down the buccaneers, hanged them without trial and sent expeditions out to destroy them. But he was such an utterly unprincipled and dastardly wretch that he could not play fair even as a reformed buccaneer. While destroying buccaneers with one hand he was aiding them with the other and secretly was providing funds and help for his brother and a few chosen friends in their piratical ventures. Owing to rumors of this and complaints of his tyrannical rule, the King at last recalled him and Morgan, sailing from Jamaica, passed into oblivion. Very little is known of what became of him. Some claim he settled down in England and lived quietly upon the proceeds of his robberies; others say he settled in the West Indies, and there is even a rumor that he was assassinated by one of his old shipmates. Whatever his end, he died unknown, unhonored, hated for a traitor, a most atrocious scallawag; after a meteoric career of but five years and the only buccaneer who was ever made a ‘Sir.’ “Now for a change, let me tell you of a buccaneer who found the Spaniards more than a match for him and met his Waterloo at the hands of the Dons. This was no less a personage than the Governor of Tortuga, Monsieur Bertram Ogeron. After Morgan’s raid on Panama, in 1673 to be exact, war broke out between the French and Dutch, and this gave an excuse to the French buccaneers of Tortuga to attack their former friends of the Dutch West Indies. Governor Ogeron, who was quite a famed buccaneer, built and fitted out a large armed vessel which he named the Ogeron in honor of himself and, manning it with five hundred buccaneers, prepared to swoop down on the island of Curaçao. But when nearing Porto Rico and sailing through the Mona Passage between that island and Santo Domingo, a violent storm drove his ship upon the Guadanillas rocks, completely destroying it. Fortunately, or perhaps unfortunately as it turned out, all the men escaped in boats to the main island of Porto Rico. Almost at once they were discovered by the Spaniards who recognized them as French buccaneers, and the castaways being unarmed and helpless they were immediately made prisoners. Although the French begged for mercy and quarter, the atrocities they had committed in the past were still fresh in their captors’ minds and, finding buccaneers at their mercy, they proceeded to wreak vengeance. In a short time they had tortured and killed the majority of the captives and then, securely binding those left alive, they started to drive them across the island to San Juan as slaves. Throughout all this, Ogeron had remained unknown to the Dons, pretending to be a half-witted fool, and his men, to all the Dons’ queries, insisted that their commander had been drowned. Thinking him a poor demented fellow the Spaniards left him free and obtained no little amusement from his crazy capers and insane behavior. Indeed, they found him so diverting that they treated him with kindness, fed him from their own meals, while the other buccaneers were given barely enough to sustain life, and allowed him full liberty. Also among the buccaneers was another favored man, a surgeon, who was also left free in order that he might use his services for the Dons’ benefit, and the two at once plotted to escape and, returning to Tortuga, bring an expedition to Porto Rico to rescue their fellows. Watching their chance, they took to the woods and made towards the coast. This they reached safely, but found themselves almost as badly off as before, for there was not a scrap of food to eat and no chance of getting shelter or making their way to Tortuga. But they were resourceful men and, wandering along the shore, they succeeded in capturing a number of fish in the shoal water. Then, by rubbing sticks together, they obtained fire, roasted the fish and the next day proceeded to cut down trees with the intention of making a raft. Fortunately they had brought along a small hatchet, their only tool and weapon, and with this they undertook their herculean job. They were thus busily at work when, to their delight, they saw a canoe approaching and, hiding in the bushes, they watched it as it drew towards the beach and discovered that it contained two men,—poor fishermen,—a Spaniard and a mulatto. Picking up several calabashes, the mulatto stepped from the little craft and started up the beach, evidently intent on securing water. Stealing stealthily after him the buccaneers, to quote Esquemeling’s words, ‘assaulted him and, discharging a great blow on his head with the hatchet, they soon deprived him of life.’ Hearing his cries, the Spaniard started to escape, but was quickly overtaken and butchered. Then, securing a plentiful supply of water in the dead man’s calabashes, they set sail and a few days later arrived safely at a buccaneers’ lair in Samaná Bay, Santo Domingo. “Here Ogeron told his story, gathered together all the buccaneers he could find and with a number of ships and several hundred men started on his voyage of rescue and vengeance. The Dons, however, saw his fleet approaching and prepared to give the buccaneers a warm welcome. Unsuspecting, the buccaneers fell into an ambuscade, great numbers were killed and the survivors who did not manage to escape to their ships, were made prisoners. Ogeron himself escaped and shamed and beaten returned to Tortuga, abandoning all hopes of rescuing his unfortunate comrades. In the meantime, the Dons slaughtered the wounded Frenchmen, cut off a few heads and limbs of the corpses to prove to their first prisoners the fate of their friends who had attempted their rescue, and drove the poor fellows on towards the capital. Here in San Juan they were put to work at building the massive fortress of San Cristóbal while a few were transported to Havana as laborers on the fortifications there. But the Dons took no chances with them. Although but a handful of half-starved, shackled slaves yet the buccaneers’ reputation was such that the Spaniards kept them constantly under guard, confining them in separate cells at night, for, to once more quote Esquemeling’s quaint phraseology, ‘the Spaniards had had divers proofs of their enterprises on other occasions which afforded them sufficient cause to use them after this manner.’ “And to make assurance doubly sure, each time a ship sailed for Spain parties of the prisoners were placed on board, transported to Europe and set at liberty. The buccaneers, however, had an almost uncanny faculty of getting together, even when widely separated, and ere long all the prisoners had met in France and were soon back in their old haunt at Tortuga ready for another foray. But they had had enough of Ogeron as a leader and joining Le Sieur Maintenon sailed for Trinidad which they sacked and ransomed for ten thousand pieces of eight and then set forth for the conquest of Caracas. Here, once more, they met defeat, for while they took the port of La Guaira they were ignominiously beaten back on the awful trail over the mountains to Caracas. Many were killed, more were made prisoners and only a handful of survivors escaped and returned, broken and penniless, to Tortuga.” “Well, I’m glad the Dons did beat them,” declared Fred. “Seems to me the buccaneers had it their own way too often.” “Yes, that is true,” assented Mr. Bickford, “but you must bear in mind that only the successes of the buccaneers were recorded as a general thing. No doubt they were defeated repeatedly and nothing said of the matter, and if the Spaniards’ story were told it might read very differently. Now that I have told you of Morgan, of the ruthless buccaneers, such as Portugues, L’Ollonois and their kind, let me tell you of the most remarkable expedition ever undertaken by the buccaneers; a trip without a parallel in history and which, for sheer daredevil bravery, indomitable courage, splendid seamanship and wonderful adventures is worthy of a place in the history of the greatest navigators and discoverers of the world. Moreover, this ‘most dangerous voyage,’ as the buccaneer historian calls it, was of real value to the world, as it resulted in scientific discoveries and data, in geographical knowledge and facts about the Indians which otherwise might never have been recorded.” “It seems funny to think of buccaneers being interested in science or geography or such things,” said Jack, as his father searched through a volume for the chapter he desired. “How did it happen, Dad?” “One of the members of the expedition was a man named Dampier,” replied his father. “He was the son of an English farmer and at seventeen was apprenticed as a boy aboard a merchant ship sailing to the West Indies. Deserting the ship, he tried his fortunes as a logwood cutter, but finding this held little chance for either riches or excitement, he joined the buccaneers. But Dampier was at heart a naturalist and an author. He was fond of study, was a keen observer and wherever he went he invariably wrote notes recording all he had seen and made excellent maps and sketches. One would hardly expect the career of a buccaneer to favor literary work and yet Dampier managed to write an excellent book while on a buccaneer ship. Often he would be obliged to drop pen and paper in the middle of a chapter in order to help his comrades battle with a Spanish ship or take a town, but he kept it up with fanatical persistence, carried his manuscript and his writing materials with him wherever he went and left most valuable records. What a queer picture he must have presented as he sat on a gun carriage busily jotting down notes on natural history or making sketches of the rugged wooded shores of some buccaneers’ lair, which he always speaks of as ‘a particular draught of my own composure,’ while, beside his ink horn, was his loaded pistol and his trusty cutlass ready for any emergency. His copy he kept in a joint of bamboo, which, he says, ‘I stopt at both ends, closing it with Wax so as to keep out any water. In this way I preserved my Journal and other writings from being wet, tho’ I was often forced to swim.’ “And along with the author-naturalist, Dampier, was many another odd character. There was Foster, who spent his hours between battles composing sentimental poetry and who wrote ‘Soneyettes of Love’ aboard a buccaneer ship; Richard Jobson, a divinity student and chemist, who carried along with his sword and pistols a well-thumbed Greek Testament which he translated aloud for the edification of his piratical mates, and, lastly, Ringrose, the pilot and navigator, whose carefully kept log has given us the true history of this ‘most dangerous voyage and bold assaults of Captain Bartholomew Sharp.’” CHAPTER VIII A PERILOUS UNDERTAKING “Among the buccaneers who ravished the Caribbean and the Spanish Main, but who had not joined Morgan in his endeavors, were Captain Bartholomew Sharp, Peter Harris, Richard Sawkins, Captain Cook, Alleston, Row and Macket. As a whole, they were far superior men to Morgan and his kind, although no less daring, and in March, 1680, these various buccaneer leaders chanced to meet at a favorite lair of the corsairs, Bocas del Toro, on the Atlantic coast of what is now Panama. Deploring the lack of rich cities to sack and the difficulty of taking the Spanish galleons, now guarded by armed convoys, and cursing the fate that had decreed peace between Spain and England, the disgruntled buccaneer captains sought for new fields for their activities. “Morgan’s raid on Panama had proved that there were rich pickings on the Pacific, but the relentless persecution of the buccaneers by the British authorities in the Caribbean made life uncomfortable for them, and after a deal of discussion it was agreed that the Pacific coasts held the best promise of fortunes to be won. But to talk of raiding the Dons’ towns and seizing their ships on the Pacific was one thing and to do it was quite a different matter. To sail around the Horn was a long and tedious voyage beset with greatest dangers and to cross by the Gold Road or the Chagres, while possible, was not only perilous, but would be but repeating Morgan’s raid. Then, into their presence, came one Bournano, a French buccaneer, who reported that while peace had been established between the savage Indians of Darien and the Spaniards, yet the Indians were still friendly to the buccaneers and hated the Dons. Indeed, Bournano stated further that the Indians had promised to lead him and his men to a rich town called Tocamora and that he had agreed to return to raid the place as soon as he could secure more ships and men. “This exactly suited the assembled buccaneers; it was unanimously agreed to join fortunes with the Frenchman, and, supplying their ships with sea turtles and maize, the captains set sail for Darien. The fleet consisted of nine vessels with four hundred and seventy-seven men and without adventure they arrived at the San Blas Islands. Here the Indians welcomed them, for the San Blas tribe had, from time immemorial, been allies of the corsairs, but when they learned of the buccaneers’ purpose they frowned upon it. Tocamora, they said, was in a mountainous country; the way was long and rough, it was in an uninhabited district where food was scarce, and the place was not as rich as had been reported. Instead, the Indians suggested that the buccaneers should cross the Isthmus, take the outlying city of El Real de Santa Maria, which was the depot for all the gold from the incredibly rich mines of Darien, and then proceed to attack the new city of Panama. It was a wild, harebrained, daring and almost hopeless scheme, but it appealed to the buccaneers and, aside from Captain Row and Bournano, all agreed to follow the Indians’ advice. “On April 5, 1680, the buccaneers landed on the mainland three hundred and thirty-one strong, and, leaving a few men and Captains Alleston and Macket to guard the ships, the dauntless buccaneers started on their terrible march, carrying for provisions but three cakes of cassava each and all heavily armed. “Following their Indian guides, the buccaneers divided into six companies and entered the jungle. The very first day their hardships began. So impenetrable was the forest that it was necessary to hew a way every yard, there were rivers to cross, swamps to wade through, and clouds of mosquitoes made life miserable. The first day four men gave up and returned to the coast, but the others, of whom, as I have said, Dampier was a member, kept doggedly on. Through pouring rain, climbing precipitous mountains, swimming rivers, the buccaneers proceeded on their way and at the close of the second day had covered nearly eighteen miles. Often, as Ringrose tells us, they were obliged to cross the same river over and over again, but at noon of the third day they came to a village of the wild Kuna Indians. Ringrose and Dampier describe the Indians very well, speaking particularly of the painted wooden crowns, the red caps and the gold nose rings worn by the chiefs, exactly as they are to-day. The Indians were friendly, they supplied the buccaneers fruit and provisions, and the footsore corsairs spent the day resting in the Indians’ huts. On the tenth of April a river large enough to be navigable by canoes was reached, and Captains Sharp, Coxon, Cook and Ringrose, with seventy men, embarked in fourteen dugouts. But they soon found that gliding down the Chukunaque River was by no means a relief from the overland tramp. Fallen trees and bars filled the stream; at every few yards the buccaneers were compelled to haul their craft bodily over the obstructions, and, being separated from their comrades, they began to fear the Indians intended to cut them off and betray them to the Spaniards. On April 13th they reached the junction of the Tuira and Chukunaque Rivers, and in the afternoon of the same day they were overjoyed to see their missing companions who had come through the jungle in safety. Throughout this awful trip, Dampier had preserved his writings in his ‘joyente of bamboo,’ carefully jotting down, despite all difficulties, his observations of bird and animal life, notes on plants and descriptions of the Indians and their lives. But the difficulties of the crossing were practically over. In sixty-eight canoes the three hundred and twenty-seven men embarked with fifty Indians and swept swiftly down stream towards unsuspecting El Real. Camping a scant half mile above the town, the buccaneers prepared to attack at dawn and were awakened by the drums of the garrison. Priming their pistols and muskets, the buccaneers marched on the village, which was surrounded by a twelve-foot palisade, but the corsairs made short work of this and took the town with a loss of but two men wounded. Within were two hundred and sixty men, but the buccaneers soon learned, to their chagrin, why no resistance had been made. The gold, brought from the mines, and, which they had hoped to gain, had been taken the day before to Panama—a treasure of three hundred pounds of bullion—and there was utterly nothing worth taking in the place, which was a mere outpost of straw and palm-thatched huts. Unlike Morgan and his fellows, Sharp and his men treated the Dons humanely and even prevented their Indian allies from butchering the captives, a diversion they had started the moment they had entered the place. Disappointed at their ill luck, the buccaneers were more than ever determined to attack Panama, and, choosing Captain Coxon as commander, the buccaneers, deserted by all but three Indians, prepared for the most hazardous venture ever attempted. Cut off, as they were, from retreat by the long journey through the jungle, in a hostile country, without provisions or ships, yet these fearless, indomitable men were about to hurl themselves upon the most strongly fortified town on the Pacific, and attack a city of thousands with less than three hundred and twenty men, for twelve of their number had left and had gone back with the Indians after taking El Real. “On April 17, 1680, the buccaneers embarked in thirty-six canoes and slipping down river with the ebb tide entered the great Gulf of San Miguel. Soon the party became separated, and Ringrose’s canoe was wrecked. Without food or clothing other than the few rags on their bodies and with no shoes on their feet, the buccaneers set forth afoot. By good fortune they met Indians, secured canoes, and, sending their prisoners back free, they continued on their way. The very next night, seeing fires on shore, the weary fellows thought they had found their missing comrades and hastily landed, only to fall into the hands of a party of Spaniards. But here the humane actions of the buccaneers were rewarded. The Dons, learning who their captives were, and hearing from a prisoner how the British had saved them from massacre by the Indians, fed and clothed the buccaneers and gave them their liberty. “The next morning, to every one’s unspeakable delight, the other parties were met. Several small sailboats were also captured, and now, once more well equipped and confident, the entire party gathered at Chepillo Island and prepared for their descent on Panama, about thirty miles distant. And here, too, the buccaneers suddenly, for ‘reasons which I can not dive into,’ as Ringrose puts it, threw aside their former humanity and ordered the Indians to butcher the few remaining Spanish prisoners. Luckily, the captives managed to escape, however, and only one was killed. Rowing stealthily along the shores under cover of the night, and drenched by torrential rains, the buccaneers came at dawn within sight of the city to find two great ships and three smaller men-of-war anchored in the bay and ready to resist the buccaneers. Here were unexpected troubles. They had counted on taking the place by surprise, on being led into the city by a captive whose life they had saved, and, instead, their presence was known and five powerful armed ships swarming with Spaniards were prepared for them. And, to make matters worse, a large part of their men were absent. During the night and the storm they had become separated, the largest of the boats, in command of Captain Sharp, had put into outlying islands for water, and the heavier piraguas were far astern of the lighter canoes. These, five in number and with one piragua, contained but sixty-eight out of the three hundred odd buccaneers, and these were weary with their long row and in no condition to fight. But there was no time for indecision. The three Spanish war vessels were already bearing down upon the buccaneers, and although so near that Ringrose says they feared they would be run down, yet the English fell to their oars and, pulling desperately into the wind, evaded the Dons’ ships and got to windward. Realizing that the sooner they struck the better, the buccaneers turned their boats and, pulling directly towards the huge Spanish ships, picked off the helmsmen and the gunners with their muskets. With their vessels aback, unable to maneuver, the Dons were, for the moment, helpless, and while their broadsides threw round shot and chain shot among the buccaneers and killed a number, the light swift boats were hard targets to hit, and before a second broadside could be fired they were under the vessels’ side where the cannons could not reach them. Then the battle raged thick and fast. Picking off the Dons whenever they showed their heads above the bulwarks, cutting sheets and braces with their shots, the buccaneers forced their tiny craft under the warships’ sterns, jammed the rudders, and, sinking their own craft to make sure the men must do or die, they swarmed up ropes, chains and quarter galleries onto the Spaniards’ decks. “Ringrose and his party attacked the Admiral’s ship, and leaping over the bulwarks cut down the Admiral, swept like demons among the Spanish crew, cutting, slashing, shooting and converting the decks to a bloody shambles. Not until two-thirds of the crew were killed did the Dons surrender, however. With the flagship in their hands, Captain Coxon took charge and at once sent two canoes of buccaneers to aid Sawkins, who had thrice been beat back from the decks of the other warship. Hardly had the reënforcements arrived when two explosions took place on the ship and in the confusion the buccaneers swarmed onto the ship’s deck and took the vessel without resistance, for not one Spaniard was left alive and uninjured aboard! But on every ship the slaughter was terrific. Of the original crew of eighty-six on the flagship, only twenty-five men remained alive and only eight of these were able to stand. Indeed, even Ringrose and his fellows, hardened to slaughter and bloodshed as they were, were amazed at the butchery they had wrought, and, in their journals, Ringrose and Dampier state that ‘blood ran down the decks in whole streams and not one place upon the ships was found that was free of blood.’ And yet this victory, this awful carnage, had been carried out by sixty-eight buccaneers in frail canoes and small boats, truly a most marvelous feat of daring and bravery, and, more remarkable yet, the buccaneers’ losses amounted to but eighteen killed and twenty-two wounded! “With the two men-of-war in their possession the buccaneers at once sailed for the big galleons, but, to their surprise, found them absolutely deserted, every member of their crews having been placed aboard the warships in their attack upon the buccaneers. But before deserting their ships the Dons had made every effort to prevent any possibility of their falling into the buccaneers’ hands. The largest galleon, which was called the Santissima Trinidad (Blessed Trinity) had been set afire and scuttled, but the buccaneers’ victory was so rapidly won that they reached her in time, extinguished the fire, stopped the leak and transferred their wounded to her. The battle had begun soon after sunrise and by noon the last shot had been fired, the fleet was in the hands of the buccaneers, and the standards of Sawkins, Sharp, Coxon and the others were floating from the mastheads in place of the gold and scarlet banners of Spain. “Never in the annals of the buccaneers had such a victory been won; never had there been a sharper, bloodier battle, and even the captive Spanish captains were loud in their praise and admiration of the valor of the English. ‘Captain Peralta declared,’ says Ringrose, that ‘surely you Englishmen are the valiantest men in the world, who designed always to fight open whilst other nations invented all ways imaginable to barricade themselves and fight as close as they could, and yet, notwithstanding, you killed more of your enemies than they of you.’ “And there, resting upon a gun still hot from recent fighting, Dampier drew his paper and ink-horn from his bamboo joint and on the blood-stained deck proceeded to make one of his ‘particular draughts’ of the harbor and to write an account of the brave and exciting deeds through which he had just passed. “It was, of course, out of the question for the buccaneers to attempt to take Panama, for the defenses were powerful, it was surrounded with an immense, heavily armed wall, it swarmed with soldiers, as well as its thousands of citizens, and the large ships could not approach within cannon shot. But the buccaneers had little cause to complain. They had taken five ships, the largest, the Holy Trinity, a galleon of four hundred tons, and while the cargoes consisted of sugar, skins, soap and flour of little value, still, with good ships under their command, the buccaneers were in a position to take prizes and raid towns. To retain all five ships was not practical and, accordingly, two were promptly fired and sunk. Those saved were the Trinity; a sugar-laden ship of about two hundred tons, which was taken over by Cook; and a fifty-ton piragua in command of Coxon. Coxon was disgruntled, having been accused of backwardness in the fight, and three days after the battle he left the buccaneers with twenty of his sympathizers and sailed away to Darien to march back to the Atlantic and his ship, taking with him the Indian guides. “A day or two later, Captain Sharp arrived, having taken a small Spanish bark while on his search for water, and shortly afterwards Captain Harris turned up, also with a prize. During Sharp’s absence, Sawkins had been elected commandant, and, having turned loose all but their most important prisoners, the buccaneers proceeded to Taboga Island to repair and refit the captured ships. “While there the buccaneers were visited by a number of Spanish merchants from Panama who brought various supplies and goods to sell to the buccaneers, for, incredible as it may seem, the corsairs had a most remarkable habit of dealing fairly with tradesmen, even though they were slaughtering and robbing others. To these Spanish merchants the buccaneers disposed of much of the material they had found on the ships, and Ringrose informs us that they paid excellent prices, offering two hundred pieces of eight for each slave the English could spare. You may wonder why unprincipled robbers and cut-throats like the buccaneers should dispose of their goods when they could have so easily possessed themselves of their visitors’ money without giving anything in return, but it was one of their codes of honor to deal fairly under such conditions and there is no record that they ever used violence or robbed a visitor or one who came to them on a friendly mission. “While at Taboga, several ships were captured by the buccaneers, one of which proved a rich prize, as it contained two thousand jars of wine, fifty kegs of gunpowder and fifty-one thousand pieces of eight. Also, from this ship, the English learned of a galleon due from Lima with over one hundred thousand pieces of eight, and, rubbing their hands with satisfaction, the buccaneers proceeded to make ready to receive her. “Meanwhile, the governor of Panama sent a message to Sawkins asking why, in time of peace, British had attacked Spaniards and for what reason the buccaneers had come to Panama. To this Sawkins facetiously replied that they had come ‘to assist the King of Darien, who was true Lord of Panama,’ and that ‘having come so far they should have some satisfaction.’ Adding that ‘should His Excellency be pleased to send five hundred pieces of eight for each man and one thousand for each commander and would promise not further to annoy the Indians, but give them full liberty, then the buccaneers would depart peacefully, otherwise they would remain to get what they might!’ And here also occurred another of the odd incidents which showed the buccaneers’ strange natures and point of view. One of the Spanish merchants brought word to Captain Sawkins that the Bishop of Panama had formerly been the Bishop of Santa Marta and had been a captive of Sawkins when the latter took the place. Thereupon Sawkins sent the Bishop two loaves of sugar with his best wishes. In return, the Bishop sent a gold ring and his compliments and also a second message from the Governor. This time His Excellency wished to know from whom the buccaneers had commissions and to whom he should complain of the damages they had done. Evidently Sawkins was a humorous man, for he replied that, ‘As yet the company are not all together, but when they are they will visit His Excellency in Panama and bring their commissions in the muzzles of their guns, at which time you shall read them as plain as the flame of powder can make them.’ But such interchanges of pleasantries did not serve to satisfy the impatient men, and provisions were getting woefully low. In vain their commanders urged that they await the arrival of the plate ship from Peru. They demanded action and food and at last, finding open mutiny would break out if he refused, Sawkins hoisted sail and, leaving Taboga, cruised westward along the coast in search of towns to sack and vessels to capture. In this they were quite successful. They took Otoque Island, looted the pearl catch from Coiba and attacked Puebla Nueva. But they met with disaster as well. Two of their vessels foundered, with a loss of twenty-two men, and on the attack upon Puebla Nueva brave Captain Sawkins met his death, and the buccaneers were beaten off. CHAPTER IX THE “MOST DANGEROUS VOYAGE” OF CAPTAIN SHARP “Say, that beat anything that Morgan did!” exclaimed Jack. “And yet, I never even heard of Sharp or Sawkins and the rest.” “Very true,” replied his father. “Many of the most remarkable deeds and adventures of the buccaneers and many of the most noted leaders have been practically forgotten. Fiction has kept alive such men as Morgan, while others, who were far more worthy of being perpetuated, are unknown to the world at large. As I said before, Sharp and his men outdid every other buccaneer and yet not one person in a thousand ever heard of them or the ‘most dangerous voyage.’” “But it seems to me they were really pirates,” said Fred. “They knew the war was over and it was a low, mean trick to tell the Indians to kill the prisoners after the Spaniards had treated them so well.” “Of course they were pirates,” agreed his uncle. “As I told you in the beginning, the buccaneers were pirates—even though pirates were not always buccaneers—and the buccaneers freely admitted the fact. Indeed, Esquemeling, Ringrose and the other chroniclers always wrote of themselves and their fellows as pirates. And as far as letting the Indians butcher the captives was concerned, you must remember that Ringrose’s party were the ones who received the favors from the Dons and he was merely a pilot or navigator and had no say in regard to the orders given by the captains. Moreover, the ‘reasons he could not dive into’ were perhaps sufficient to warrant the leaders’ orders. But to return to the doings of the buccaneers after their defeat at Puebla Nueva. Sawkins was liked and respected by all the men; he was brave, courteous, fair and, for a buccaneer, very honorable, and when he was killed and Bartholomew Sharp was given command of the expedition many men refused to continue with the latter. They had joined the venture under Sawkins, they did not care to be under any one else and they disliked Sharp. Moreover, the new commander announced that it was his intention to fit the Blessed Trinity as a buccaneer ship, to cruise along the west coast of South America, ravishing the Spanish towns, and to return to the Caribbean by sailing through the Straits of Magellan and completely circumnavigating South America. Even the hardy and daredevil buccaneers were amazed at this. It was a venture fraught with the greatest hazard, a voyage such as no buccaneer had ever undertaken, and there were those who openly expressed the opinion that Sharp must have gone mad to think of it. “And there is little wonder that they thought him insane. Imagine a lone ship—and a half-burned, far from seaworthy galleon at that—going pirating in the Pacific where every town, every man, every ship was an enemy; where there was not a friendly harbor in which to lie; where Spanish warships were numerous; where there was no buccaneers’ lair in which to refit or provision and secure men, and where the buccaneers were completely cut off, separated by thousands of miles, from their own countrymen. And then, even if the ship and its crew survived, think of the thousands of perils to be faced at every turn in attempting to navigate the almost unknown Antarctic seas and to round South America and sail for thousands of miles across the Atlantic to the West Indies. It was a scheme so wild, so dangerous and so unheard of that nearly one-third of the men refused to stand by Sharp, and nearly seventy men declared their intention of braving the perils and hardships of a return march through the jungles of Darien rather than attempt the voyage. Among these deserters was Dampier; Wafer, the surgeon; Jobson of the Greek Testament, and others. Ringrose himself freely admits in his ‘log’ that he was minded to accompany them and would have done so had he not been more afraid of the jungle and the Indians than of the proposed voyage. It is fortunate for us that he stuck to the ship, for otherwise we would have no record of that marvelous cruise. “And the deserters had anything but an easy time of it, and often, ere they reached the Caribbean and their own ships, they heartily wished that they had remained with Captain Sharp. “Bad as the crossing had been before, it was now a thousand times worse. It was the height of the rainy season; it poured incessantly day and night; the forest was little more than a vast morass and the rivers were swollen, raging torrents. The Indians refused to guide the men, owing partly to the weather conditions and partly as they were disgusted at having been cheated out of their revenge on the Dons and the joy of butchering them, and the buccaneers were in a sad plight. In vain they offered beads, cloth, hatchets and similar articles of trade for guides. They were in despair until one of the men, evidently familiar with women’s ways, dug a sky-blue petticoat from among his loot and slipped it quickly over the head of the chief’s wife. His ruse worked like a charm. The wife added her arguments to those of the buccaneers, and the chief, throwing up his hands in despair, agreed to lead the buccaneers across the Isthmus. But even with their Indian guide their plight was pitiable. They plunged through deep swamps, fought their way through wicked, thorn-covered jungles, hacked and hewed a pathway through the forest, swam swollen rivers, were drenched with rain, infested with ticks, tortured by mosquitoes and almost starved. For days at a time they could not light a fire; they had no shelters; the clothes were torn from their bodies; their sodden shoes fell from their blistered, bleeding feet. Sometimes a whole day’s labor would result in less than two miles of progress and their best time was but five or six miles a day. For twenty-three days they endured every hardship and torture, traveling one hundred and ten miles and losing their way a hundred times despite their Indian guide. On the morning of the eighth day they reached a river so wide and swift none dared to attempt it, and after a deal of argument it was decided to choose a man by lot to swim the torrent with a line. The lot fell upon one George Gayney. Unfortunately for him he was an avaricious fellow and insisted on carrying his share of loot—three hundred pieces of eight—in a bag lashed to his back. When midway across he was whirled about by the current, he became entangled in the rope and was carried under and drowned. But another took his place, the rope was gotten across and, half-drowned, the party reached the opposite bank. A few days later they found poor Gayney’s body with the bag of coins still lashed to his back, but so miserable and spent were the men that they did not even bother to secure the silver but left the corpse there upon the river’s bank, money and all. Another unfortunate was the surgeon, Wafer. By an accidental discharge of some powder he received a serious wound in the leg and, unable to walk, was left with some Indians to recover. While convalescing he used his skill for the Indians’ benefit, and the redmen, impressed by what they considered magic, treated him like a god. To show their gratitude and esteem they stripped him of his ragged garments, painted him from head to foot with every color of the rainbow and enthroned him in a regal hut. But Wafer had no mind to pass his remaining days as an Indian witch doctor or medicine man. Watching his opportunity he stole away, and garbed only in his coat of paint, sneaked off through the forest towards the coast. Months later, after untold hardships, he came in sight of the sea, and, without thinking of his appearance, rushed toward a party of buccaneers who fortunately were at hand nearby. For an instant the buccaneers gaped in amazement, utterly at a loss to understand who the nude, gorgeously painted creature was, and not until he shouted to them in English did they realize that it was the long-lost surgeon, Wafer. Never had buccaneer appeared before in such guise; they roared with laughter, and many were the rude jests and coarse jokes passed at the doctor’s expense. But poor Jobson, the divinity student, was less fortunate. He too had been overcome and left behind, and while he eventually managed to rejoin his comrades he was too far spent to recover and a few days later he died, his Greek Testament still clasped in his hand. But aside from Gayney and Jobson no lives were lost, and a few days after reaching the Caribbean shores the buccaneers were rescued by a French buccaneer, Captain Tristian, along with the loot they had carried throughout their awful journey, and Dampier’s ‘joyente of bamboo’ which the naturalist-buccaneer had preserved unharmed and within which was the closely written journal wherein he had daily set down every event of interest or note. “Meanwhile, back at Coiba Island, Sharp and his companions were preparing for their momentous undertaking. Stripping the other vessels of all fittings and arms, Sharp scuttled and burned them and proceeded to equip the Blessed Trinity for a pirate ship. Her high and ornately gilded poop was in the way, and with axes and hatchets the buccaneers hacked and chopped away the galleries and moldings, knocked off a tier or two of cabins and, hastily boarding it up, mounted guns with their grim muzzles protruding from what once had been the stained glass windows. Ports were cut in bulwarks and topsides, the decks were stripped of all unnecessary gear, the rigging was overhauled, and the ship with the holy name was ready for her most unholy work. At Coiba they laid in a supply of turtles, salted deer meat, and water, and on the afternoon of June 6, 1679, they sailed forth from Coiba Island on their marvelous voyage. “It is not necessary to relate in detail all that took place thereafter. They cruised along the coast, captured all the ships they saw and either sunk them or, cutting away all but one mast, filled them with their prisoners and set them adrift to sink or sail as the fates decreed. Sharp at times showed intense cruelty, and whenever priests were taken he ordered them butchered out of hand and often tossed them overboard while still living. Ringrose says, ‘Such cruelties, though I abhorred very much in my heart, yet here was I forced to hold my tongue as having no authority to oversway them.’ And they captured many a town, too. Arica, Hilo, Coquimbo, La Serena, were attacked, sacked and burned; but the buccaneers often came near to destruction also. Only by luck did they escape, and at La Serena the Dons, under cover of darkness, swam to the Trinity on inflated hides, placed combustibles and explosives between the rudder and the stern post of the ship and fired them. Just in time the buccaneers discovered the source of the blaze and prevented the loss of ship and all within her. Fearing their numerous prisoners would plot successfully against them, the buccaneers, after this, set all the Dons ashore and, finding it necessary to refit, sailed to Juan Fernandez island. “It was now December, and the buccaneers spent a wild and riotous Christmas upon the isle, firing salutes, building bonfires, singing and shouting, drinking and carousing; frightening the seals and the birds with their wild cries, startling the goats with their ribald laughter; gambling and making merry, for which we can scarcely blame them, for it was the first holiday they had had since leaving Coiba, five months before. “And here at Juan Fernandez dissensions among the men once more arose. Some were for going home at once; others wished to remain longer, while all declared they would sail no longer under Sharp for the reason—incredible as it may seem—that he had failed to observe the Sabbath! So here on Juan Fernandez the ungodly pirates deposed their commander because he was not sufficiently religious and in his stead elected a hoary old buccaneer named John Watling. Sharp, naturally resenting this, was quickly silenced by being cast, willynilly, into the hold, where he had ample chance to think over his wicked past and moralize on the psychology of men who would slit a friar’s throat one moment and clamor for prayers and divine services the next. “Under their new captain the Sabbath was rigorously observed, and Ringrose writes, speaking of the first Sunday under Watling’s command, ‘This day was the first Sunday that ever we kept by command and consent since the loss and death of our valiant commander, Captain Sawkins. Our generous-hearted commander threw the dice overboard, finding them in use on the said day.’ “Under Watling, the Trinity sailed to Iquique and there captured several prisoners, among them an aged Indian from whom they sought to obtain information of Arica, which they planned to raid the second time. Evidently, from what transpired, Captain Sharp had seen the error of his ways and had made up his mind to be a most moral pirate in future. Having been released from the hold, he was on deck when the Indian prisoner was questioned, and he protested most vehemently against Watling’s orders to shoot the prisoner because, so the buccaneers imagined, he had not told them the truth. Finding his pleas for the Indian in vain, Sharp dipped his hands in a basin of water and dramatically declared, ‘Gentlemen, I am clear of the blood of this old man. And I will warrant you a hot day for this piece of cruelty whenever we come to fight at Arica.’ “And verily did the buccaneers learn to their sorrow how they had misjudged the Indian and how true was Sharp’s prophecy, for Arica had been strongly fortified and garrisoned, just as the captive had related; the buccaneers were ignominiously defeated with heavy loss; Captain Watling and a number of other officers were killed, and the beaten and decimated buccaneers clamored loudly for Bartholomew Sharp once more to take command. Sharp, however, refused at first to listen to them, having had enough of their fickle natures, but finding that, unless he or some one took charge immediately all would be destroyed, he at last consented, and after severe fighting managed to get the survivors to their ship, although the surgeons were left behind. In fact the buccaneers had the closest shave of all their lives at Arica. Not only were they beaten back, killed and wounded by scores, and forced to retreat to the outlying country in disorder, but the Dons were on the point of destroying their boats when they were rallied by Sharp, and only by a sharp hand-to-hand struggle did the English succeed in recovering them. Now, however, the men looked upon Sharp with reverence and awe, for not only had he saved their lives, but with the superstition of sailors, they remembered his prophecy, believed he had occult power and cursed the late Watling right and left for having destroyed the Indian prisoner and disregarded Sharp’s warning. “The buccaneers were now greatly reduced in numbers. They had lost twenty-eight killed and eighteen desperately wounded, as well as about a dozen who had fallen into the Spaniards’ hands, and of the original one hundred and forty men who had set sail on the wild adventure in the Trinity a bare seventy now remained who were in condition to work or fight. But lack of men did not trouble Sharp in the least. Heading northward, they ravished city after city, leaving a trail of blood and smoke behind them, and at last put into the Gulf of Nicoya, battered, weatherbeaten and vastly in need of repairs to both themselves and their ship. But when off San Miguel dissensions had once more arisen, and forty-seven more of the men deserted and headed overland across Darien as had those who had gone before. Their experiences were much the same as those others, although as the rainy season had not come on they were more fortunate, but they had many narrow escapes and many adventures nevertheless. “With his forces now reduced to less than fifty men Sharp put into the Gulf, took prizes of the ships there, raided the villages and by good luck succeeded in making prisoners of some shipwrights and carpenters who were engaged in building ships for the Spaniards. These artizans he impressed into his service and at once proceeded to put the battered Blessed Trinity into condition for the long and dangerous voyage around South America and up the Atlantic to the Antilles. For, despite losses, desertions and all, Sharp and the remaining buccaneers were determined to carry out their original plans. They had now been in the Pacific for over a year, carrying terror far and wide, swooping upon every town or village they could find, capturing vessels and ever managing to escape in their shot-torn, dingy old galleon, and now Sharp planned to make her as staunch and seaworthy as possible with the materials and labor at his command. With almost superhuman efforts the deck was taken up and relaid, new planking was put in her shattered sides, the masts were all shortened and the ship was rerigged and refitted from truck to water line. Then Sharp graciously thanked his captive carpenters and presented them with a vessel he had captured as a reward for their services. Then, freeing all the prisoners and most of the slaves they had taken, the buccaneers set sail for the Gulf of Dulce, where the ship was careened and cleaned, it having been impossible to do this at Nicoya. The condition that the craft was in can be imagined as she had not been cleaned, either outside or in, since she had fallen into the buccaneers’ hands—and the Lord only knows when before that. Ringrose states that, ‘when we came to cleanse her hold both myself and several others were struck blind with the filth and nastiness of it.’ “But at last it was done and the Trinity sailed forth from the Gulf of Dulce and started on her long deferred voyage to the distant Caribbean. And as they sailed, many a rich prize fell to those upon the one-time galleon. Within ten days after starting, a ship was taken with over forty thousand pieces of eight and, by a strange coincidence, this proved to be the same ship from which they had won so much treasure and wine in Panama harbor over a year before. Ship after ship they took, but ever freeing all prisoners and turning them loose in the vessels after they had been looted, for Sharp had no mind to burden himself with hungry mouths which were of no use to him. Down the coast they sailed, avoiding conflicts ashore,—although, truth to tell, there was little to be got after having raided the coast twice within the twelvemonth,—until finally, leaving the last settlements and inhabited lands astern, they bore through cold and stormy seas towards the tip of the continent. They stopped in at Tierra del Fuego, found and mapped uncharted, storm-lashed isles, hunted penguins and seals, and battered by mountainous waves, buffeted by ice-laden gales, crept ever farther south, searching for the entrance to the Strait of Magellan. “And remember that they had only the crudest instruments with which to navigate, only a rough quadrant for finding their latitude, and no means whatever, save dead reckoning, for determining their longitude. Their ship, despite their efforts to put it in seaworthy shape, was leaky, strained and filled with patched shot holes, and they were in one of the stormiest parts of the world in the wildest season of the year. Often their sails were torn to ribbons or carried away, the ship was sheathed in ice, and after tedious beating through storm and sleet for days they would be driven back in a night farther than they had gained in a week. Let me quote a few passages from Ringrose’s log and you will get a better idea of what that handful of grim buccaneers in the Blessed Trinity underwent. Here, for example, under date of November 10th, he says, ‘Day being come the wind increased and at noon blew our mainsail to pieces. Hereupon we were forced to lower the yard and unbend the sail, lying under mizzen. But that too gave way and all the rest of the day we lay a hull in dark weather, foggy and windy, with a huge sea that oftentime rolled over us.’ The next day he reports, ‘All last night we had furious weather with seas higher and higher.’ On November 16th the fore shrouds gave way; for several days hereafter it was ‘so foggy we could not see the stem from the stern’; they narrowly escaped running into icebergs and, to make matters worse, their provisions had run low and the men were on the most scanty rations. Several of the crew were frostbitten; others were so benumbed with the intense cold they could not stand, and at last they realized that they could not find the sought-for Straits and that there was nothing for it but to stand on to the eastward through uncharted polar seas in the hopes of rounding Cape Horn. “Day after day they kept on, bending on new sails as fast as they were carried away; splicing and repairing rigging as it parted; half starved, numb with cold, often unable to secure a sight to learn where they were, but ever grimly heading east and north and blindly plunging into the long, green, storm-swept seas. “And at last they found they were making northing, the tempests were less severe, the weather was appreciably warmer, and they realized, with heartfelt joy, that they had rounded the Cape and actually were in the Atlantic. By the 7th of December they were well north of Cape Horn—off the mouth of Rio de la Plata, in fact—but they had sighted no land since leaving Tierra del Fuego and had not the least idea how many scores or hundreds of miles they might be from either the South American or the African coast. “Now the awful struggles the ship had undergone began to tell, and she sprang more leaks, until the men, on less than quarter rations, were compelled to toil day and night at the pumps. Yet they were cheered, for the weather was constantly becoming warmer and fairer, and though several men died from the result of frost bites and exposure, the others took heart. But it was maddening for them to see porpoises, dolphins, bonitos and sea birds about their ship and yet be unable to obtain them to eke out their perilously low supply of food. The fish would not take the hook, the birds gave them no chance to shoot, and the haggard, dull-eyed, tattered men watched with hungry eyes the bountiful supply of food quite beyond their reach. “Since leaving the tropics in the Pacific not a mouthful of meat, save a few oily penguins and a seal or two, had passed their lips. The only meat upon the ship was a sow which had been taken aboard as a suckling pig in the far-off Gulf of Nicoya, and on Christmas Day this was slaughtered for the men’s dinner. Starvation was staring them in the face, but on January 5th they captured a hundred-and-twenty-pound albicore and great was the rejoicing. Two days later they took an even larger one, and now they discovered that their water casks had sprung leaks and that only a few pannikins of the precious liquid remained. Only a quart a day was allowed to a man, and sweltering under the equatorial sun, baffled with light winds and calms, the men’s plight was pitiable. In order to keep afloat they toiled ceaselessly at the pumps, falling exhausted on the sizzling decks, cursing and moaning, crying for water, and several dying raving mad. “But now they were well north of the equator. Somewhere ahead, Ringrose felt sure, were the Caribbean isles they longed to see, and Captain Sharp offered a reward to the first man to sight land. “On the 28th of January the glad cry came ringing from the masthead and, straining their eyes, the half dead men saw the faint and hazy outline of land upon the horizon. Then cheer after cheer rose from those thirst-cracked throats, the men forgot their troubles, their hunger, their ceaseless toil, for all recognized the welcome bit of earth as the island of Barbados. “Marvelous indeed had been Ringrose’s navigation. Had he been equipped with a modern sextant, with the latest nautical almanacs and the most perfect chronometer, he could not have done better. By sheer dead reckoning for his longitude, and by his crude instruments to find his latitude, he had won within ten miles of the goal for which he had made—truly an almost incredible piece of seamanship. “Weather-beaten, patched, her rigging frayed and spliced; her masts awry, her sails mended and discolored, with gaping holes in her bulwarks, with the charred marks of fire still upon her hacked-off poop and with her crew more like ghosts than living men, the Blessed Trinity headed for Bridgetown with the frayed and faded British ensign at her peak and Sharp’s red banner with its green and white ribbons at her masthead. “But the homesick, sea-weary buccaneers were not to set foot upon the green shores of Barbados, for within the bay lay a British frigate. Sharp realized that, in the eyes of the law, he and his men were pirates, and so, with clanging pumps, the Trinity swept by the island, while the wondering folk ashore gazed in amazement at this strange ship, this vision that, gaunt and gray and battered, slipped by like a wraith, and to their superstitious minds savored of the Flying Dutchman. But the buccaneers’ ‘most dangerous voyage’ was almost at an end. At Antigua, two days later, Ringrose and thirteen of the men went ashore and secured passage on the Lisbon Merchant for England, while Sharp and the others sailed to Nevis. There the ‘great sea artist and admirable captain,’ as Ringrose calls him, presented his men with the ship and sailed for Bristol. “Thus ended that most memorable voyage, that venture which had taken the buccaneers across Darien, up and down the length of South America twice, and around Cape Horn and back to the Antilles in a captured Spanish galleon. Two years had passed since they had plunged into the jungles of Darien; two years without sight of fellow countrymen or news of home; two years in enemies’ seas and enemies’ country, and welcome indeed was the sight of the verdant British islands and of Englishmen once more.” “What became of Captain Sharp and Ringrose?” asked Jack. “Gosh, that was a wonderful voyage. It ought to be more famous than Morgan’s.” “Sharp and a number of his men were tried for piracy when they arrived in England,” replied Mr. Bickford. “But they were acquitted. The specific charge brought against them was the taking of the San Rosario and the killing of her captain, but it was proved that the Spaniards fired the first shot and the men were freed on a plea of self-defense. Their fellows, who after Sharp’s departure made their way to Jamaica, were less fortunate. Two of the three were acquitted, but the third pleaded guilty and was hanged. Ringrose himself settled down for a well-earned, quiet life, but the love of the sea and the call of adventure was too great. In 1683 he joined with his old comrades Wafer, Dampier and Swan and went back to the Pacific, piloting the ship Cygnet around Cape Horn. He was killed a few years later in a battle with the Dons on the west coast of Central America, but that is another story.” “But, Dad, you didn’t tell us how much loot they got in all that time,” complained Jack. “It’s not recorded,” replied his father. “Owing to the long voyage the treasure was divided up after every raid or prize. But the greatest treasure they took they threw away.” “How on earth was that?” asked Fred. His uncle chuckled. “I often think what a bitter pill it must have been for Sharp and the others to swallow,” replied Mr. Bickford. “The San Rosario—the ship for the taking of which the men were tried—had very little treasure aboard her, apparently. She was laden with huge ingots of what the buccaneers supposed was tin and this was thrown overboard, one of the buccaneers retaining a single ingot as a keepsake. Imagine the chagrin of the men when, during their trial, they learned that the supposed tin was solid silver! They had cast into the sea, as worthless, more riches than they had won on their entire venture!” CHAPTER X THE LAST OF THE BUCCANEERS “Gosh, that was a good joke on the buccaneers,” laughed Jack. “Now do tell us more about Ringrose, Dad. He must have been a fine fellow. Just as soon as you get through I’m going to borrow that log of his and read it from beginning to end.” “Me, too,” cried Fred with enthusiasm. “And I’m going to read Esquemeling.” “You’ll find both Esquemeling’s and Ringrose’s log most interesting,” said Mr. Bickford, “and you’ll be amused at the map. See here—this is the chart by which Ringrose steered the Trinity. See how the Amazon and the Rio de la Plata are pictured as one huge estuary of the sea, making part of Brazil and all of Uruguay and Paraguay into a great island. Very little was known of South America in those days, although, as you will notice, the West Indies and Central America were accurately shown.” “Golly, I don’t see how they ever did get around,” declared Fred, as the two boys studied the ancient chart. “Hadn’t any one else ever sailed around the Horn before?” “Yes,” replied his uncle. “Vasco da Gama had done so, and Drake and Magellan had gone through the Straits, but no buccaneer had ever attempted it and none had sailed from the Pacific around into the Atlantic. But the success of Sharp’s voyage and Ringrose’s experiences led the way for many a later buccaneer raid into the South Sea, as they called the Pacific. Buccaneering was no longer a safe profession in the Caribbean, for any buccaneers caught were tried and hanged as pirates, but the South Seas were out of England’s jurisdiction and offered a fine field. It is unnecessary to go into details of all the buccaneering, or perhaps I might say pirating, cruises that were made to the Pacific, but it is well to learn a little of the more noteworthy ones, especially as our old friends Dampier, Wafer and Ringrose took prominent parts in them. “The first buccaneers to sail for the ‘South Sea’ after Sharp’s exploits became known, set forth from Chesapeake Bay in August, 1683. Their ship was the Revenge, of eighteen guns and seventy men, in charge of Captain John Davis, who had won considerable fame as a pirate by sacking St. Augustine, Florida. With Davis went Cook, who had accompanied Sharp, as well as Wafer, the surgeon, who had received such unappreciated honors at the hands of the Darien Indians. Off the coast of Sierra Leone they seized a Danish ship of thirty-six guns and, finding her a much better vessel than their own, at once transferred their belongings to the prize and scuttled the Revenge. Then, renaming their new ship the Bachelors’ Delight, the corsairs headed for Cape Horn and reached Juan Fernandez without mishap. Here they fell in with another buccaneer ship, the Nicholas, and together the two cruised northward to the Gulf of Nicoya, taking many prizes and attacking, with considerable success, the smaller towns on the South America coast. In the Gulf of Nicoya Cook died and Davis was left as sole commander-in-chief. Those on the Nicholas, however, were bent on pirating through the East Indies and shortly after Cook’s death parted from the Bachelors’ Delight and set off on their own account, leaving a grewsome trail through the South Seas and along the African coast on their way to England. Davis and his company confined their activities to the American coast until they met the Cygnet at the Island of La Plata. The latter, which had been fitted out as a trader in London, had soon abandoned peaceable pursuits and had become a full-fledged pirate with our old friend Ringrose as navigator or pilot and Dampier, the naturalist-author, as quarter-master, with an old buccaneer named Swan in command. The two ships at once agreed to keep together and we may be sure there were wildly hilarious times when Dampier, Ringrose, Wafer and the others once more met, here in this out-of-the-world spot in the Pacific. Remembering the rich pickings they had had under Sharp, the veterans urged attacks on Paita, Guayaquil, Panama and other towns as they had done in the Trinity. But the Dons had grown wise; corsairs were no longer rare or unexpected upon the Pacific, and a warm reception met the buccaneers at every town they visited. They took many prizes nevertheless, and we may be quite sure that no more cargoes of ‘tin’ were cast into the sea. “For several weeks they blockaded Panama, and while off this port they were reënforced by Captains Grogniet and L’Escayer, French buccaneers, who with two hundred Frenchmen and one hundred and eighty English had crossed the Isthmus. Shortly after, Captain Townley with one hundred and eighty buccaneers arrived by the same route, and a little later two hundred and sixty more French appeared. With a total force of nine hundred and sixty men, which Davis divided among ten captured ships, the buccaneers felt they were strong enough to withstand anything and impatiently awaited the arrival of the plate fleet from Lima. “But when, on May 28, 1685, the long-expected treasure fleet hove in sight the buccaneers’ hearts fell. For the Dons had been warned and instead of helpless galleons carrying the vast fortune in gold and bullion, the pirates saw, to their consternation, that the plate was convoyed by six great Spanish warships, six smaller sloops of war and two fire ships. The buccaneers had no mind to commit suicide and after firing a few defiant-shots at long range they very wisely pulled up anchors and sailed away, leaving the triumphant Dons to discharge their precious cargo in peace. “Arriving at the Island of Quibo, the buccaneers met still another party of pirates and almost at once dissensions arose between the French and British corsairs. As a result, Davis and his men sailed north, plundered Leon and Rio Lexa in Nicaragua, and, learning that a plate ship was due from Manila, they cruised along the coasts of Mexico and Central America awaiting its arrival. But they were not content to wait patiently and must needs raid the coastal towns, with the result that over sixty of Swan’s men were cut off and completely wiped out by a Spanish ambuscade. This was the most severe blow the pirates had ever received on the South Sea, and among the killed were several officers and the pilot, Basil Ringrose. “Disappointed at missing the galleon and furious at the loss of his men, Swan accused Davis of negligence and a severe quarrel arose among the buccaneers. This ended in Swan setting sail for the Philippines, where his men mutinied and the unfortunate captain and thirty-six others were marooned, the Cygnet sailing on without them. Among the mutineers was Dampier, still, no doubt, keeping his journal in his ‘joyente of bamboo,’ and very interestingly he wrote of the Celebes, Timor, New Holland and Australia. At the Nicobar Islands Dampier had had enough of pirating, and with a few companions, deserted the Cygnet and by hook or crook managed to reach England in safety, where he devoted the rest of his life to publishing his journals and his ‘special draughts’ for the edification of his less adventurous countrymen. “It was lucky he did so, for the ship, thoroughly unseaworthy, barely succeeded in reaching Madagascar before she foundered. Here some of the men settled down and took service with the native chiefs while others, in time, reached home. “In the meantime, Townley had also left Swan and had set out to rejoin his erstwhile French allies, with whom he took vast treasure at Quibo, Grenada and Lavelia, although Townley lost his life at the last place. “The Bachelors’ Delight continued to cruise up and down the coast of Peru for the next two years, sacking many towns, seizing innumerable ships and accumulating vast plunder, which Davis is reputed to have hidden on the Galápagos Islands. “But the Dons were becoming heartily sick of the nuisance of the English pirates, and early in 1687, sent a powerful fleet to destroy them. A terrific battle resulted, a running fight being kept up for seven days, and, though many of the pirates were killed, the ship managed to escape. The buccaneers, however, had had a wholesome lesson, and when, a few days later, they again met Townley’s men they decided to revenge themselves for their loss by one last raid. This fell on Guayaquil, which was taken and sacked, and then, realizing even the South Sea was becoming too hot for them, the pirates refitted at the Galápagos and sailed around Cape Horn to the Virgin Islands, where they arrived in 1688, after five years of pirating in the Pacific.” “Gosh, I never knew before that there were buccaneers in the Philippines and Madagascar and all those places,” said Jack. “Say, they went all over the world, didn’t they?” “You forget,” his father reminded him, “that they were no longer buccaneers in the true sense of the word. They had degenerated to common pirates and attacked any ship they met, except British, and they were not by any means overpunctilious in that respect. Early in the eighteenth century,—soon after the Cygnet’s wreck, in fact?—Madagascar became a favorite pirates’ lair and they even set up an independent kingdom, or rather republic, there. Had they possessed a leader such as Morgan, Mansvelt or Sharp, no doubt they would have maintained a colony which might have established British dominion over a vast area, but they were always quarreling among themselves and never succeeded in anything for long.” “But what became of them all?” asked Fred. “They never seemed to get killed off or hung.” “Some settled down in the West Indies, others in England or Europe and others in the American colonies, and led respectable lives under fictitious names among people who never suspected who they were. At times, though, they were recognized, brought to trial or hung or managed to slip away and find new homes. Many a well-to-do planter in the West Indies; many a wealthy merchant and shipowner in the New England colonies, made the beginnings of his fortune by pirating. And many of them, of whom the world never hears, led most romantic and adventurous lives. For example, there was Red Legs. He was a most picturesque character—not a pirate by choice, but by force of circumstances, and I’m happy to say that he eventually became a highly respected and charitable man. Indeed, I have actually stopped in the house he built and occupied after he gave up piracy.” “Oh, do tell about him!” cried Jack. “Gee—that’s a great name—Red Legs! I’ll bet he was a peach of a pirate.” “He was,” asserted Mr. Bickford, with a smile. “But I must pass over his career very briefly, for there were many other interesting buccaneers and pirates I have not mentioned as yet. “Red Legs was originally a slave—one of those unfortunates who were taken during Cromwell’s time, and, because they wore kilts—being Irish and Scotch, they were nicknamed ‘red-legs.’ At that time it was customary to ship prisoners and malefactors as slaves to the West Indies, where they were sold for fifteen hundred pounds of sugar each. They were marked or branded like cattle, compelled to labor with the blacks and were treated far more cruelly than the negro slaves. Many of them were shipped to Barbados and their descendants may still be seen there and are still called ‘red-legs.’ A few have become well-to-do, but the majority are miserable, ragged, degenerate folk who have never recovered from the effects of their ancestors’ servitude. “The future pirate ‘Red Legs,’ however, fell into good hands—a planter who secretly sympathized with the prisoners’ cause,—and he was well educated and was practically adopted by his owner. When still a mere lad, however, his owner died and he was sold to a cruel master who made life miserable for him. As a result, he decided to stow away on some ship bound for a Dutch island, but in the darkness, when swimming to the vessel, he became confused and by chance clambered onto the deck of a buccaneer ship. As a result, he was compelled to join the pirates and took part in their raids. But he was no pirate at heart. He could never bear the sight of tortures or brutality and resented the treatment of captive women. Once, in a quarrel over a female prisoner whom the captain was maltreating, the ex-slave killed his commander and, to his amazement, was elected captain himself. As a buccaneer chief he performed some really amazing deeds. He took the Island of Margarita and the vast fortune in pearls awaiting transportation to Spain. He sacked Santa Ysobel in Mexico, and he became one of the most notorious West Indian corsairs, although he was famed for the fact that he never permitted cruelties or the butchering of prisoners. Eventually he tired of the life and settled in Nevis with an old crony. Here he was discovered and cast into prison, but was freed by the earthquake that destroyed the town and, clinging to a floating bit of wreckage, escaped the fate of thousands of the citizens. Eventually he made his way to Dominica, settled down again and spent the remaining days of his life in peace, a most worthy citizen. But ever he must have lived in deadly fear of discovery or betrayal. His house was built like a fortress with moats, heavy walls and underground vaults, while the balustrade to his verandah was most fittingly fashioned from old musket barrels.” “Well, he was really a good pirate,” declared Jack. “Were there any others like him?” “Not exactly,” replied his father. “But men often took to piracy for most peculiar reasons. For example, there was Major Stede Bonnet, also a native of Barbados. But unlike Red Legs, Major Bonnet, far from being a slave, was a most honored and well-to-do member of the colony. He was a gentleman by birth, well educated, possessed a large fortune and was an army officer. However, there was one fly in the gallant Major’s ointment. He had a nagging, scolding wife. But not until in 1716, when the Major began acting most strangely, did tongues begin to wag over him or his household. At that date Major Bonnet suddenly purchased a sloop, fitted her with ten guns and engaged a crew of seventy men. Then, indeed, did speculation become rife. To all inquiries the Major replied ‘wait’ and the mystery deepened as the shipwrights rigged the craft, and upon its stern appeared the name ‘Revenge.’ Then one dark night, the Revenge slipped out of the harbor and disappeared, but in a few months came tidings of her that were a nine days’ wonder in Barbados. Major Stede had turned pirate! The Revenge was cruising off the American coast, taking prizes right and left; she had become the terror of Philadelphia, Salem, Norfolk and other coast towns, and the Major, to add insult to injury had made Gardiner’s Island in Long Island Sound his headquarters. Evidently pirating had appealed to the Major as a peaceful life beside the nagging tongue of Mrs. Bonnet. “But the poor, hen-pecked Major’s career did not last long. He fell in with Teach, otherwise known as Blackbeard, who pretended to be an ally and then ruthlessly robbed the amateur pirate, and, a little later, the Major was captured off the Carolina coast. He managed to escape in a canoe, but the reward of seventy pounds sterling offered for him, dead or alive, soon brought results. He was retaken, tried at Charleston and hanged. After the long-winded lecture and flowery-worded harangue that the presiding judge inflicted upon the poor condemned man the Major must have really welcomed hanging, and as he did not even plead the ‘discomforts to be found in the married state’ as extenuating circumstances for his misdeeds the execution was carried out at once.” “That would have been funny if the poor Major hadn’t been hanged,” said Jack. “But please tell us about Blackbeard. Was he a buccaneer?” “I’ll tell you of him presently,” replied Mr. Bickford, “but let us follow up the history of the buccaneers in its proper sequence first. As I have said, the buccaneers, as such, were practically destroyed when Morgan was made Lieutenant-Governor of Jamaica and waged a relentless war on his former associates. But to drive the corsairs from all their lairs in the Islands and about the Spanish Main was too big a job even for Morgan and the British king. To be sure they were driven from Jamaica, but the French still held Tortuga; there was a fortified island where they foregathered in Samaná Bay in Santo Domingo, and on many a small outlying bay and islet they were comparatively safe. Then there were the Dutch Islands and the Virgins. These last were particular favorites of the buccaneers. They belonged to France, Sweden, Denmark, Holland and England and always they had been neutral ground for the freebooters. Here in these tiny out-of-the-way spots they could careen and refit, could carouse ashore and were safe from pursuit. The people looked upon them as friends; they spent money freely, and in return for the privileges and security afforded them, they never molested the inhabitants or their property. Many a buccaneer has swung to his own yardarm for an insult to some Virgin Islander; many a man was pistoled by his captain for attempting to make free with Virgin Islander’s property, and in the Virgin Island ports—in St. Martin, St. Barts, St. John, Anegada and even in St. Thomas the remnants of the Brethren of the Main found snug lairs. “Many of the little islands were surrounded with dangerous reefs, where large ships could not enter, but whose secret channels were known to the buccaneers, and at almost all of them the corsairs erected forts and mounted guns. Montbars, the ‘Exterminator,’ as he was called, made his headquarters at Saint Bartholomew or St. Barts as it is more commonly called, others selected St. Martin, others Virgin Gorda and still more Anegada. All about here are names redolent of the buccaneers, such as Norman Island, Dead Man’s Chest, Rum Island, Dutchman’s Cap, Broken Jerusalem, while we also find such places as Sir Francis Drake’s Bay, Rendezvous Bay, Privateers’ Bay, Gallows Bay, Doubloon Cove, etc. “Most of the freebooters at Anegada were destroyed or driven off by expeditions sent from Jamaica by Morgan, for Anegada, like Virgin Gorda and Tortola, were British; but the buccaneers, who, you must remember, were now out-and-out pirates and had been declared so by England and France, were still comparatively safe in the Dutch and Danish isles. Indeed, the Danish officials were quite openly in league with the pirates, and one governor of St. Thomas, Adolf Esmit—who, by the way, had been a buccaneer himself—was closely identified with a most notorious pirate, Jean Hamlin. “It was in 1682—about the time Sharp returned from his ‘dangerous voyage’—that Hamlin took as a prize the French ship, La Trompeuse, refitted her as a corsair and made a swift and successful piratical cruise through the Caribbean. Despite all protests of the British, Hamlin made his headquarters at St. Thomas, where he was entertained by the governor—with whom, no doubt, he shared his loot—and was afforded every courtesy and aid in fitting for another raid. For over a year Hamlin wrought havoc with British, French, Spanish and Dutch shipping with equal impartiality, finally culminating in a wholesale capture of seventeen Dutch and British ships off the coast of Africa. “Returning from this foray the pirates were loudly welcomed in St. Thomas; the merchants bid for the loot brought ashore, and Hamlin made merry with his good friend, the governor. But word of the corsair’s whereabouts had been carried to the neighboring British Islands. Governor Stapelton, of Antigua, despatched the H.M.S. Francis under stout old Captain Carlisle to St. Thomas, and three days after Hamlin’s triumphant arrival at the island the British frigate sailed into the harbor. “It was useless for the pirates to attempt to escape or to resist. Their ship was under the guns of the frigate scarcely a pistol shot away and, hastily scrambling into their boats and firing a few guns to ‘save their faces,’ the pirate captain and his men rowed for shore and sought protection under the wings of the governor. Carlisle wasted no time in formalities and, despite the fact that he was in the waters of Denmark, promptly fired the pirate ship and blew her to bits. “Of course Governor Esmit protested, claiming he had already seized the Trompeuse in the name of the Danish king, but Captain Carlisle snapped his fingers—figuratively speaking—in the Danes’ faces, asked them what they were going to do about it and sailed away, well satisfied with a good deed well done. In the meantime, Esmit provided the pirates with a new vessel, but realizing that complications might arise, he suggested, in a friendly way, that henceforth some more isolated, out-of-the-way spot would be better adapted to piratical uses.” CHAPTER XI KIDD, THE PIRATE WHO WASN’T A PIRATE “Whew, I didn’t know they had pirates and buccaneers right up here around home!” exclaimed Fred. “Think of pirates in Long Island Sound!” “Of course there were,” declared Jack. “If there weren’t, how do you suppose Captain Kidd could have buried his treasure up here?” “That’s so,” admitted his cousin. “But I always thought he pirated down in the West Indies and just brought his treasure up here to hide it. Do you suppose he really did bury anything up this way, Uncle Henry?” Mr. Bickford laughed. “No, most of those stories are purely imagination,” he replied. “There isn’t a stretch of coast from Canada to South America that hasn’t got its tale of buried pirate treasure. If they all were true there’d be more valuables hidden by the pirates than all the corsairs ever took.” “Didn’t the buccaneers and pirates really bury treasure, then?” asked Jack. “You said that Davis was supposed to have hidden his loot on the Galápagos Islands.” “Undoubtedly they did,” his father assured him. “The buccaneer leaders were far more thrifty than their men, and as there were no banking facilities in the haunts of the pirates and no safe hiding places in the towns, I have not the least doubt that they did bury vast quantities of their booty. But, also, I have no doubt but that they eventually dug most of it up again. The majority of the buccaneer and pirate captains retired from the profession and settled down to a life of peace and plenty, as I have said, and there is no reason why they should have left their treasure hidden away. Of course those who were suddenly killed might have had money and valuables secreted at the time of their death, but there were far greater fortunes hidden by the Spaniards than by the pirates. No doubt thousands and thousands of dollars’ worth of money, plate and jewels were buried or hidden by the Dons to prevent their falling into the buccaneers’ hands and were never recovered. Very often the owners were killed or made prisoners and the secret of the treasure died with them, or they died a natural death without digging up their buried riches. “Of course a great deal of hidden treasure has been found of which the world never hears. In most countries the government claims a large share of such finds and naturally the finder, having no desire to share his unexpected fortune, keeps mum when he discovers it. There are countless cases of poor negroes and others in the West Indies suddenly becoming well-to-do without apparent reason. From time to time ancient coins appear at money changers and now and then we hear of treasure being found. But as a rule, the sums discovered are not large and are found by accident. “And with few exceptions there is every reason to believe that the valuables were hidden by their lawful owners or were lost or accidentally buried. For example, there was the man Gayney, who was drowned in Darien and who had three hundred pieces of eight on his person. Any one might find that and think it was buried treasure and never imagine it was the loot carried on a man’s back. At other times, boats loaded with valuables were wrecked or sunk and the treasure lost. Then, years later, it is found in the sand of the shore and the finders think of it as buried treasure. Moreover, wherever the pirates foregathered they naturally lost more or less money and if, by chance, some one picks up a few doubloons or pieces of eight in such places it always starts a tale of buried loot. At Anegada, St. John, St. Martin and, in fact, every other buccaneers’ old haunt, pieces of money are picked up from time to time and from these finds the tales of buried treasure have originated. In all the reliable histories and chronicles of the buccaneers and pirates I have never found any statement or hint that would lead one to think that it was customary for the corsairs to bury or hide their loot. All the tales of pirate captains burying treasure at dead of night and shooting the men who dug the holes are pure fiction with no fact on which to base them. “But there is no question that vast amounts of treasure lie at the bottom of the sea in the Caribbean and elsewhere. Port Royal, Jamaica, slipped bodily into the sea with all its treasure—and there was undoubtedly vast sums in money and jewels in the place—and not a cent has ever been salvaged. Jamestown, in Nevis, was also submerged by an earthquake and all the riches it contained still lie at the bottom of the sea. Countless ships, attacked by the buccaneers, sank before the pirates could loot them and went to the bottom with their valuables, and many a buccaneers’ and pirates’ vessel was lost with thousands of dollars worth of treasure. The floor of the Caribbean is dotted with such wrecks. In some cases the men escaped and told of the loss, and the places where the ships went down are known, but in many cases the vessels with all their treasure and crew merely disappeared and no one knows their fate. It was thus with Grammont, a famous French buccaneer, who, in 1686, plundered and burnt Campeche and secured a vast treasure. But he and his ship were never heard from and beyond a doubt the immense fortune in gold, silver and precious stones lies somewhere among the rotted timbers of his ship at the bottom of the Caribbean.” “Well, it doesn’t sound as if treasure hunting would be very profitable,” remarked Jack. “Far more money has been spent in searching for treasure than ever was lost,” declared Mr. Bickford. “There was the Peruvian treasure supposed to have been hidden on Cocos Island—a vast fortune in church plate, holy vessels and coin which was taken away to prevent it falling into the hands of the enemy. Innumerable expeditions have set out to find it but none have succeeded, although many have claimed to possess maps of the spot. But during the years that have passed, the island has altered, there have been landslides, and, if we are to believe the most reliable reports, the treasure lies buried under thousands of tons of rock and earth that has fallen from the mountainside. And as far as known the treasures that were lost when the Dons hurriedly sent it away from Old Panama to prevent it falling into Morgan’s hands has never been found. Some day some one may stumble upon it, but the chances are that it will remain lost to the world forever.” “Then all these stories about Captain Kidd’s treasure are just yarns,” said Fred regretfully. “And you said he wasn’t even a pirate.” “If Captain Kidd had possessed one-hundredth of the treasure he is supposed to have buried he would have been the most successful pirate who ever lived,” declared Mr. Bickford. “There is nothing to prove that Captain Kidd ever had any considerable treasure and the little he had was secreted on Gardiner’s Island and recovered by the men who employed Kidd and for whom it was intended. No, your old hero Kidd was not a pirate nor a buccaneer. On the contrary, he was a much maligned man, a weak, rather cowardly chap, who was the tool of unscrupulous adventurers and paid the penalty for crimes that never were proved against him. And yet, strangely enough, he became noted as the most famous of all pirates and his name is a household word and the epitome of piracy. It is one of the most astounding examples of unwarranted fame and misconception on record, and so firmly fixed in the mind of the public is the erroneous idea that Kidd was the most notorious of pirates that not one person in a thousand will listen to reason or pay the least heed to documentary evidence or historical records proving he was no pirate at all. “It is the hardest thing in the world to down tradition and oddly enough the more false tradition is the harder it seems to be to correct it. Despite everything, Kidd will, no doubt, continue to remain the favorite pirate of romance and story, and to the end of time Kidd’s treasure will still, in imagination, be buried here, there and everywhere along the coasts. “We scarcely ever hear of ‘Blackbeard’s treasure,’ of ‘Morgan’s treasure’ or of ‘Bonnet’s treasure,’ although each and every one of those rascals was a pirate and took vast sums and may have buried their loot for all we know. But always it is Kidd’s treasure, although the poor fellow never had any to bury. “As a matter of fact, Captain William Kidd was a respectable and honest sea captain, a native of Greenock, and was so highly respected for his integrity that he was given a commission to suppress piracy by King William the Third of England. The commission was addressed to ‘our trusty and well-beloved Captain William Kidd of the ship Adventure, galley’ and was dated 1695. The royal warrant went on to authorize Kidd to destroy and hunt down ‘divers wicked and ill-disposed persons who were committing many and great pyraces to the great danger and hurt of our loving subjects.’ “Kidd, being impecunious, was backed by several rich and influential persons in Massachusetts and New York, among them Lord Belmont, the governor of Barbados, who saw in the capture of pirates and the taking of their ill-gotten loot a chance for large profits. “The Adventure set forth on her mission in May, 1696, with a crew of one hundred and fifty-five men and cruised here, there and everywhere searching for piratical prey. Unfortunately pirates seemed very scarce, Kidd’s crew became mutinous and clamored for excitement, and the next thing that was known, word came to the authorities that the Adventure had attacked and taken a Moorish ship called the Queda Merchant. Furthermore, reports had it that Kidd had taken possession of the prize, had transferred his men, guns and other possessions to the Queda and, having sunk the Adventure, had gone a-pirating in the Moorish ship. At once he was branded as a pirate and a price put upon his head. All unwittingly Kidd sailed into Santo Domingo in his prize and there learned that he was looked upon as a pirate and was wanted by the authorities. “Without hesitation, Kidd purchased a sloop, left the Queda in port and sailed as fast as possible to Boston to explain matters. He was, of course, rather doubtful of his reception and before throwing himself on the mercies of the authorities he secreted the few valuables he had on Gardiner’s Island, sent word to his sponsors, and after a consultation in which they agreed to stand by him and clear him of the charge of piracy, he gave himself up. “Kidd’s explanation was frank and simple. He claimed his crew, a gang of thugs and cut-throats, had mutinied, had made him prisoner and of their own volition had captured the prize, and that the Adventure, being rendered unseaworthy in the action, had been abandoned, and the men and their belongings transferred to the Moorish ship. He also testified that his men had threatened to shoot him if he did not accede to their wishes and that during the time of the capture of the ship he had been locked in his cabin. He was questioned as to what became of the valuables, supposedly worth seventy thousand pounds sterling, which were on the Queda and in reply swore that the men had taken it and made away with it. In the end, to make a long story short, the trial simmered down to a charge against the unfortunate Captain of having killed a gunner named Moore, who was a member of the Adventure’s crew. Kidd frankly admitted he had killed the fellow by striking him over the head with a bucket, as Moore had been mutinous and had led the men in their scheme to turn pirates. Throughout these preliminary hearings, Kidd’s wealthy sponsors had deserted him. They saw that they would become involved; and poor Kidd found himself without friends or money and even deprived of the rights to produce documentary evidence of his statements. Heavily manacled, he was sent to England and tried on the charge of piracy and murder at Old Bailey in May, 1701. “The trial was a rank travesty of justice from the beginning. Papers and letters favorable to Kidd were refused as evidence; his erstwhile friends perjured themselves to save their own names; counsel was denied him and only his faithful wife stood by him. In addition to Kidd, nine of his crew were also charged with piracy, these being the men who had remained faithful to their captain, and although all testified in Kidd’s behalf and substantiated his story, Kidd and six of the men were condemned to be hanged in chains. At Execution Dock the maligned, helpless captain and his fellows were strung up without mercy on May 23rd, and their dead bodies suspended in chains along the river side, where, for years, the bones swayed and rattled in the winds as a grim warning to all pirates. “But the execution was a bungling and awful thing. Kidd, standing with the noose about his neck, was pestered, browbeaten and cajoled to confess, but stoutly maintained his innocence. As he was swung off, the rope broke and the poor, tortured, groaning man was again hoisted to the scaffold where, despite his suffering, a minister and others exhorted him to confess his crimes and reveal the hiding places of his treasure. But between pitiful groans and pleas for a speedy death, Kidd still maintained that he had no treasure and had told only the truth. Finally, despairing of wringing a confession from one who had nothing to confess, he was hanged until dead. His entire estate, consisting of less than seven thousand pounds, was confiscated and presented to the Greenwich Hospital, where, by all that was right and just, it should have proved a curse rather than a blessing. “No one ever knew what became of the Queda or her treasure, but, no doubt, as Kidd claimed, she was scuttled by the mutinous crew and the loot divided between them was scattered to the four winds. Upon that slender mystery of the disappearance of the valuables of the Queda were built all the tales of Captain Kidd’s buried treasure, and upon the farce of a trial and the conviction of the unfortunate seaman for killing a mutinous gunner in self-defense, was reared the undying fame of Captain Kidd.” “Gee, that was a shame!” declared Jack. “I feel really sorry for poor old Captain Kidd. Think of Morgan being knighted and honored after all he did and Kidd being hung for nothing.” “You must bear in mind that times had changed since Morgan’s day,” said Mr. Bickford. “The romantic, picturesque buccaneers were a thing of the past, and England and her colonies were waging a relentless war on pirates. In a way we must not be too hard on the authorities for their treatment of Kidd. They were intent on discouraging piracy and doubtless felt that, even if there was a question of Kidd’s guilt, his death would be a wholesome warning to any seamen who felt inclined to turn pirates. But it certainly is a wonderful example of the irony of fate to think of Kidd winning undying fame as a bold and ruthless pirate when—even if he were guilty—he could not have been charged with taking more than one ship, while others, who destroyed hundreds and ravaged the seas for years, have been totally forgotten. There was not even anything romantic, daring or appealing to the imagination in Kidd’s career. In contrast, consider the most romantic corsair who ever pirated in the Caribbean, a veritable knight errant of the seas, a scion of royalty, known as Prince Rupert of the Rhine.” “Why, I never ever heard of him!” exclaimed Fred. “What did he do?” “Of course you never heard of him,” said Mr. Bickford. “That is why I mentioned him, just as an example of how a man who should have been famous remains unknown and forgotten and a man like Kidd, with no claim to fame, lives on forever. Prince Rupert was a most romantic and fascinating character, a real Don Quixote, ever getting into one scrape after another, living a series of incredible adventures that would have put the famous D’Artagnan to shame; a dashing, impetuous gallant young prince who, according to historians, was ‘very sparkish in his dress’ and ‘like a perpetual motion.’ Young, handsome, a dashing cavalier, as ready with his sword as with his purse, he championed every romantic or hopeless cause, threw himself into any wild scheme or fray where a lady was concerned or some one was in distress, and was no sooner out of one trouble than he was head over heels into another. But he was ever resourceful, ever light hearted and ever a great favorite with the ladies. In his youth, he was cast into prison in Linz, but, despite his plight, he managed to learn drawing, made love to the governor’s daughter and so won her heart that his escape was made easy. “Later, he decided that the land held too few opportunities for his restless, romantic spirit, and with a handful of choice companions he took to sea in command of a fleet of three ships. These were the Swallow, his own vessel, the Defiance, under command of his brother, Prince Maurice, and the Honest Seaman. “Gay with pennants and bunting, the little argosy set sail from Ireland in 1648, and with the gallant young Prince, dressed in his gayest silks, satins and laces, upon the high poop of the Swallow, the three tiny vessels set off on their voyage to do their bit towards championing the cause of their king in the far-off Caribbean. “For five years they sailed. Battling right nobly with the Dons, escaping annihilation a thousand times, beset by tempest and storm and meeting enough adventures at every turn to satisfy even the Prince’s ardent soul. A book might be written on the romantic, harebrained, reckless deeds performed by that hot-blooded young scion of royalty, but in the end, in a terrific hurricane, Prince Rupert’s fleet was driven on the treacherous reefs off Anegada. Prince Maurice in the Defiance was lost, the Honest Seaman was battered to pieces and her few survivors reached the low, desolate land more dead than alive, but the Swallow, by chance or Providence, managed to escape by driving through a narrow entrance in the jagged reef to the sheltered water within. Battered and leaking, badly crippled, the poor Swallow was far from seaworthy when the storm was over and the gay Prince, saddened and sorrowful at the loss of his brother and his men, sailed dolefully for England. He was a changed man thereafter and settled down to a very quiet life in a little house at Spring Gardens. All his brave deeds were forgotten, even his name passed into oblivion and in 1682 he died, almost unknown, in his English home.” CHAPTER XII PICTURESQUE PIRATES “I’d like to read all about him,” said Jack. “I’ll bet he had an exciting life. I’ll never hear of Captain Kidd without thinking of Prince Rupert by contrast.” “You’ll find the whole story in this book,” said his father. “But you’ll always find these old volumes dry reading in a way. They pass over the most exciting events very casually, as if they were matters of course, but you’ll be amused at the quaint language and naïve remarks.” “Weren’t there any other old buccaneers who were as romantic and gallant as Prince Rupert?” asked Fred. “He was not strictly a buccaneer,” his uncle corrected him. “Nor was he really a pirate. His deeds took place before the buccaneers were really organized, and ostensibly he was more of a privateer than a pirate. In a way he was in the same category as Drake and Hawkins, and the same is true of another most romantic figure who ravaged the Caribbean and was a thorn in the side of the Spaniards. Perhaps he should not be included among stories of buccaneers, but he was such a picturesque figure that a brief account of him may interest you boys.” “Yes, do tell us about him,” cried Jack. “Even if he wasn’t really a buccaneer.” “He was also a member of the British nobility,” continued Mr. Bickford. “The Earl of Cumberland, a graduate of Oxford with the degree of M.A., a wealthy peer, romantic, picturesque, a courtier, a noted gambler and a man of tremendous personal strength and courage. In his youth he had taken part in the attack on the Spanish Armada under Drake and had been made a Knight of the Garter and was a great favorite with Queen Elizabeth. In fact, through some favor, the queen had presented the Earl with one of her gloves—a claret-colored, diamond-studded thing which the dashing adventurer invariably wore tucked through the band of his broad-brimmed plumed hat. It became his crest, his badge, and far and wide, to friends and enemies alike, he became famed as ‘the man with the glove in his hat.’ “Like Prince Rupert, Lord Cumberland found too few opportunities for his love of adventure ashore and so turned to the sea and the Indies for excitement. No doubt he found it in plenty, for he became a terror to the Dons, took many prizes, accumulated vast wealth and seemed to bear a charmed life. Again and again he returned to England to settle down, but ever the life of the sea rover appealed too strongly to him, and donning his hat with its jeweled glove, he would up and away to some new daredevil adventure. “Finally, in March, 1598, he set sail from Plymouth harbor with twenty ships, all his own, for the greatest attack on the Dons in the Caribbean that had ever been organized. His flagship bore the curious name of The Scourge of Malice, and the Earl’s bold scheme was to attack the supposedly impregnable port of San Juan, Puerto Rico. Drake and Hawkins had tried it, but had been driven off, and the reckless devil-may-care ‘man with the glove in his hat’ saw, in a raid on Puerto Rico a fine chance for adventure such as his heart craved. “Having captured a few prizes in mid-ocean, the fleet arrived at Dominica in May, and the Earl allowed his men shore liberty and a good rest before continuing on his daredevil foray. Being totally unexpected by the Dons, the Earl’s ship approached unseen at dead of night, and six hundred men were silently landed about two miles to the east of Morro Castle. Dividing his force into two parties and following the road, Cumberland led his men close to the city walls and at break of day rushed the sleepy sentries and the gates. Shouting and yelling, brandishing cutlasses, firing pistols, the wild horde of Englishmen appeared to the frightened, surprised Spaniards like fiends suddenly sprung from the earth. Terrorized, they retreated to the inmost fastnesses of the town before they rallied and, realizing the dreaded British were upon them, turned to face their foes. But it was too late. The English were in the streets, and although the Dons fought manfully and many fell on both sides, the Earl’s men were victorious, and within two hours the city was in their hands. “And mightily well pleased was My Lord as, with his own men in charge of the walls and grim old fortress, he strutted about the city appraising the valuables, the rich merchandise, the ships in the harbor, which were his to pick and choose from. Never before had San Juan fallen to an enemy, and the Earl had every reason to be filled with pride at his great deed. The city was rich and prosperous, the Morro was one of the strongest fortifications in the New World, and the ‘man with the glove in his hat’ felt that he had mightily added to England’s power by securing this stronghold as a fortified base from which to harass the hated Dons. But he had counted without an enemy that lurked unseen and unsuspected near at hand. He had subdued the Dons, but there was another foe ready to attack him that no bravery, no arms could subdue. The dreaded Yellow Fever crept stealthily among the British, and ere Cumberland realized what had occurred his men were dying by scores daily. Here was an enemy he could not fight, a foe invisible and more deadly than the Spaniards, and in almost no time Cumberland’s force was more than half destroyed. Filled with terror at this dread death stalking among his men, realizing that to remain meant destruction for all, the Earl hurriedly embarked the few remaining Englishmen aboard his ships, and beaten, discouraged and disheartened, sailed away from the town he had so gloriously won. He had not gone empty-handed, however. The city had been thoroughly pillaged, much of it had been burnt, the ships in the harbor had been destroyed and Cumberland’s fortune had been increased tremendously. But he had had enough of the corsair’s life. He settled down to pass the remaining years of his life in peace; but we may feel sure that often, as he glanced at the flopping, white-plumed hat with its little red glove, he breathed a sigh of regret that his days of a sea rover were over; that never again would he leap over a galleon’s side with cutlass in one hand and pistol in the other, while men shouted for St. George and San Iago and blood flowed and cannons roared and blade clashed on blade and pistols flashed as Don and Briton battled.” “Seems to me those old fellows were a lot more picturesque than the real buccaneers,” said Fred. “Why don’t people write more stories about them, Dad? I never read of Prince Rupert or the Earl of Cumberland in any story; but books are full of Morgan and those fellows.” “Probably because less is known about them,” replied his father. “And partly, too, as they lived and fought before the West Indies and the Spanish Main became as well known as in Morgan’s day. You must remember that we hear very little of L’Ollonois, Brasiliano, Portugues, or the earlier buccaneers. New England, you know, was not settled until 1638, and most of the famous buccaneers were those whose deeds were committed after the American colonies were trading extensively with the West Indies. Morgan, you remember, sent to merchants of New England for help in fitting out his fleet, and Davis and his fellows sailed for the South Sea from the Chesapeake. To the inhabitants of New England and Virginia the buccaneers seemed comparative neighbors, and hence the tales of their careers came fresh and vividly to them, whereas it took weeks or months for stories to reach England. “But don’t imagine that it was only the older pirates who were picturesque. Perhaps the most picturesque and fascinatingly wicked pirate who ever lived—although he hadn’t a redeeming feature—was among the last of the really famous corsairs of the Caribbean. If ever there was a dime-novel, story-book pirate it was he—Blackbeard.” “Hurrah! I was hoping you’d tell us about him!” cried Jack. “Was he really as bad as the stories make out?” “A great deal worse,” Mr. Bickford assured him. “No imagination could invent anything to equal Blackbeard’s innate deviltry. “He combined all the worst traits of every buccaneer and pirate who ever lived. He was a double-dyed, out-and-out rascal; a ruffian, a thug and a brutal, inhuman bully. The most despicable buccaneer who ever raided a Spanish town or boarded a galleon would have despised him, for he held no shred of honor or principle; he cheated his friends and his own men and was a veritable monster in human form. Nevertheless, it cannot be denied that he was courageous; that he never shirked danger; that he never asked or expected his men to go where he would not lead, and, moreover, he was a most striking and picturesque rascal.” “I saw somewhere that he had a castle in St. Thomas,” said Fred, as Mr. Bickford paused to refresh his memory with data from a book on the table. “Did he live there, Uncle Henry?” “Not as far as known,” replied Mr. Bickford. “It is true that there is an ancient tower-like building above the town of Charlotte Amalia at St. Thomas, and which is called ‘Blackbeard’s Castle,’ and that the natives claim it was once the home of the noted pirate. But there is also a similar edifice known as ‘Bluebeard’s Castle’ on a neighboring hilltop. It’s just about as probable that old Bluebeard lived in one as that Blackbeard dwelt in the other. No doubt Blackbeard visited St. Thomas, but there is not a bit of historical data to prove he ever lived there. It’s a shame to destroy the island’s claim to association with the notorious old pirate, but as a matter of record his so-called castle was built by Charles Baggaert, a Dane, about 1660. To be sure, that would not have prevented it from being used by Blackbeard, for he lived at a much later date, but Blackbeard’s favorite haunts were the Bahamas and the coasts of the Carolinas, and he would have had no earthly reason for stopping ashore at St. Thomas. However, whatever the truth of his ‘castle’ may be, the rest of Blackbeard’s life story is well known and is substantiated by historical records. “Blackbeard’s real name was Edward Teach and, like many another pirate and sea rover, he was a native of Bristol, England. Had Teach been born a few years earlier no doubt he would have become a famous buccaneer and a dangerous rival of Morgan and his fellows, but Master Teach came into the world after buccaneering as a profession had fallen into disrepute. Hence it fell to his lot to become an ordinary seaman on honest merchant ships, which was far from satisfactory to the ambitions of young Teach. As a result, when his ship dropped anchor in Jamaica, one day in 1716, Teach promptly deserted and, falling in with a number of questionable characters, joined their company in a pirating venture. “Evidently the embryo pirate believed thoroughly in the old adage that ‘what’s worth doing at all is worth doing well,’ and he threw himself heart and soul into his chosen profession. Efficiency seemed to be his middle name, to use a slang expression, and within two years from the time he deserted the merchant service he had risen to the very highest pinnacle as a pirate chieftain. In fact, I might go further and, without exaggeration or question, say that within that short period Teach had become the world’s greatest pirate, a pirate never equaled or excelled for pure devilish bloodthirstiness and villainy, and, if the facts were known, most of the lurid stories and the romances of piracy have been founded on the deeds of Blackbeard. Even the popular conception of much-maligned Kidd is based on Blackbeard, for he was the culmination of piratical scoundrelism, the ideal pirate of blood-and-thunder fiction, the most highly depraved cutthroat who ever walked a ship’s decks. “And he was a thorough believer in keeping up his reputation and well knew the effect of appearances upon the public. Naturally a most repulsive-looking man,—a huge, long-armed, broad-shouldered, brutal creature,—he added to his ugliness by cultivating an enormous coal-black beard and allowing his hair to grow until it covered his shoulders like a mane. His beard he braided into innumerable little pigtails, twisting in bits of bright-hued ribbons, and when attacking a prize or boarding a ship he added to his wild and savage aspect by tucking burning slow matches into the mass of black hair and beard that framed his villainous, leering face. “But his actual deeds would have been sufficient to inspire horror and dread without the theatrical accessories of black whiskers and slow matches. He was a past master in the art of devilish cruelty; he gave no quarter; he took ships of any nation that happened to come his way, and when prizes were scarce he varied the monotony of life by robbing and murdering his own men and his fellow pirates. Had Teach drifted into other and more peaceful walks of life he might have become a great inventor, for he had an inordinate bump of curiosity and was forever carrying out experiments which, while most interesting to him, were most unpleasant to others. Once he marooned seventeen of his crew upon a tiny barren islet, to learn, so he declared, how long human beings could survive without food or water; but unfortunately for his curiosity, and most opportunely for the marooned subjects of his test, Major Stede Bonnet—of whom I have already told you—chanced to sail that way and rescued the unfortunate seventeen from their desert isle. “He possessed a weird and grewsome sense of humor too, and we may be very sure that life was never dull or monotonous aboard his ship. On one occasion, when for days no prize had been sighted and the pirate craft rolled with slatting sails upon an oily sea under the blazing tropic sun, Teach, hatless and shoeless, appeared on deck and announced with a roar and an oath that he had devised a scheme for killing time and amusing themselves. It was, indeed, a novel idea, and one quite in keeping with Blackbeard’s character, for it was nothing less than, to quote his words, ‘to make a little hell of our own and see who is best fitted for our hereafter.’ It was useless for the men to protest, for any artificial inferno that Teach could devise would, they knew, be mild in comparison to that which they would bring upon themselves should they refuse to follow out their captain’s wishes. “Urging the fellows into the hold by no gentle means, Teach leaped in with them, and then, setting fire to several pots of brimstone, pitch and other inflammable things, the pirate chief drew the hatches shut. There in the close, unventilated hold they sat upon the ballast, choking, coughing, suffocating in the noxious fumes until, half-roasted, nauseated, almost asphyxiated, the men could endure no longer and, rushing to the hatch, threw it open and crawled on deck. Not until all the others had gained the open air did Blackbeard emerge triumphant, and throughout his life he was never tired of boasting of his endurance, and took the greatest pride in recalling that his men declared that, when he came forth, he had looked like a half-hanged man. “In fact, this remark by a thoughtless member of his crew set Teach to thinking and, his curiosity being aroused, he suggested that another and even more interesting test should be made to see who could come the nearest to being hung without dying. But at this his men drew the line; they had no desire to choke and kick while dangling with a noose about their necks, even to satisfy their captain’s curiosity. In vain Teach pointed out that sooner or later they’d be hung, most probably, and that they might as well become accustomed to the sensation at once. Without avail he argued that by so doing they might become so inured to hanging that it would hold no terrors for them. One and all refused point-blank, and Teach, realizing that to be suspended from his yardarm alone would prove nothing and that his men might try his endurance a bit too far, and also realizing that he could not string up his entire crew by himself, reluctantly gave up the idea and, cursing the men fluently as cowards, busied his mind thinking up other amusements. “Such pleasantries were of almost daily occurrence, and his crew and his friends thought themselves lucky indeed if they got off with nothing more serious than his brimstone test. One night, for example, he was entertaining two cronies, one his sailing master and the other the pilot who had just brought the ship into port. All were in the best of spirits, smoking, drinking, spinning yarns of the sea in the tiny, stuffy cabin, when Blackbeard, without the least warning, suddenly whipped out a brace of pistols, cocked them, crossed his hands, and before his amazed guests knew what he was about, he blew out the candle and fired his weapons in the direction of the astounded and terrified men. The sailing master was shot through the knee—although, as you will learn later, it was a most fortunate thing for him—and lamed for life, and indignantly the pilot and sailing master demanded of Teach what he meant by such behavior. “Having cursed them fluently for several minutes, Blackbeard roared with boisterous laughter, and replied good-naturedly that ‘if I didn’t kill one of you now and then you’d forget who I was.’ “And yet, despite his brutality, his murderous ways, his utter depravity, Teach apparently was a great favorite with the ladies. At any rate, he was married fourteen times—although history fails to mention divorces—his last wife being, according to those who knew, ‘a beautiful young creature of sixteen.’ It certainly would be interesting to know by what manner of courtship the villainous old wretch could win the hearts of innocent young girls, but perchance in his love-making he was as gentle and as ardent as he was brutal and devilish in his piracy. “For two years Teach ravaged the Caribbean and the coast of the Atlantic states, sailing as far north as Massachusetts and the coast of Maine, and making his headquarters either in the Bahamas or in the waters of Pamlico Sound, North Carolina. Indeed, there was more than good reason to suspect that the governor of Carolina was hand and glove with Teach, and that the pirate paid a goodly tribute to the executive in return for freedom from molestation while in the Carolina waters. “But at last Blackbeard’s activities became too great to be borne longer by the long-suffering mariners and merchants of the colonies. They rose and demanded his apprehension or destruction, and the Governor of Virginia thereupon offered a reward of one hundred pounds sterling ‘for one Edward Teach, otherwise known as Blackbeard, pirate,’ dead or alive, and forty pounds for each and every other pirate. One hundred pounds in those days was a fortune, and Teach, reading a copy of the proclamation, swelled with pride to think that his fame and notoriety were such as to bring forth such an offer. But he had no fear whatever of any one claiming it. His mere name was enough to drive every one scurrying to safety, he had perfect confidence in his ability to look out for himself, and he took the whole matter as a bit of a joke. “Indeed, he thought so lightly of it that he boldly sailed into Pamlico Sound, came to anchor in a little cove at Ocracoke Inlet, and there fell in with an old friend, a merchant skipper, with whom he spent the night drinking and swapping yarns of old days before Teach had gone a-pirating.” CHAPTER XIII THE END OF BLACKBEARD “As is often the case, Teach, just when he felt himself safest, was in the most imminent peril. The munificent reward offered for his death or capture had proved a tempting bait, and a brave young naval officer, Lieutenant Maynard of H.M.S. Pearl, had made up his mind to pocket that one hundred pounds and several of the forty pound rewards as well. Gathering together a few brave and tried friends and old shipmates, Maynard manned a small sloop, loaded it with a plentiful supply of arms and ammunition and, having learned of Blackbeard’s whereabouts, set sail for Ocracoke. Long before the gallant lieutenant came within sight of the pirates’ lair, however, Teach had word of his coming, but this only amused the black-whiskered corsair. It would serve to enliven a dull day, and he and his men looked forward with pleasurable anticipation to Maynard’s arrival. “But the villainous pirate little knew the manner of man who was coming to attack him. As the day dawned, those on the pirate ship saw the sloop approaching, and, realizing that his situation in the exposed anchorage was not well adapted to defensive tactics, Blackbeard cut his cable, hoisted the black flag and allowed his vessel to drift upon the mudflats with the tide. This was a tactful move, for Maynard’s craft drew too much water to come to grips with the pirate, and as neither vessel carried cannon, the battle would have to be a hand-to-hand combat, and the pirates would have every advantage, as their enemies would be compelled to board them. But the lieutenant had no intention of giving the pirates any advantage he could avoid. He was out to get Blackbeard, dead or alive, and he meant to succeed. Throwing over his ballast, together with anchors, fittings, water casks and spare spars, Maynard lightened his sloop until she could pass over the flats, and then, hoisting sail, he bore down upon the stranded pirate craft. “Blackbeard, with lighted fuses glowing in his hair and beard, drawn cutlass and pistols in hand, leaped upon the rail, ‘hailed him in a rude manner and cursed most horribly,’ as the old accounts tell us, and then, in a bit of bravado, raised a glass of grog and in full view of his enemies drank to ‘the damnation of the attackers.’ “Even with the lightened sloop, Maynard found, however, that he could not come to grips with Teach’s vessel, and so, piling his men into small boats, the lieutenant headed for the stranded pirate, intending to board her. But long before they could gain the vessel’s sides they were met with such a galling musketry fire that they were compelled to retreat with twenty-nine men killed and wounded. “This was, indeed, a wretched beginning, but Maynard was a resourceful man and, ordering his men below decks, so that only himself and the helmsman remained in sight, he allowed his sails to flap and swing as though he had no men able to handle the sloop and with the slowly rising tide crept constantly closer to the pirates. “Thinking they had won the day and that Maynard’s men were utterly done for, Teach and his crew roared out boisterous songs and taunts and prepared to leap onto the sloop’s decks and butcher the two remaining men and any wounded who might be lying about. A moment later the two vessels touched. With a terrible oath and a savage yell, Blackbeard sprang through the smoke to the sloop’s decks with his shouting crew at his heels, and with swirling, gleaming cutlasses they rushed towards Maynard and his helmsman. Then, up from their hiding place in the hold, poured the sloop’s crew, and instantly the battle raged fast and furiously. The pirates, surprised, gave back a bit, the lieutenant’s men fought like furies, and back and forth across the bloody decks the battle surged. Teach had singled out Maynard and, whipping out pistols, both fired at the same instant. Blackbeard’s shot missed, but the bullet from the lieutenant’s pistol found its mark in the pirate’s face. With blood streaming from the wound and dripping from the braided ends of his long beard, eyes blazing with fury, and yelling with anger and pain, the pirate threw aside his useless pistol and leaped at the lieutenant with swinging cutlass. But Maynard was a splendid swordsman. As Blackbeard, cursing and shouting that he would hack the other’s heart from his body, leaped forward, the officer’s sword met his, steel clanged on steel, and the pirate found himself balked, held off, driven back. “It was a terrible duel,—the struggle of enormous brute strength against skill,—and with terrific slashing blows and savage lunges Blackbeard strove to break down the other’s guard, to disarm him or to snap his blade. Here and there across the decks they fought and swayed and panted, stumbling over dead and wounded men, slipping in pools of blood, bumping into fighting knots of pirates and seamen. Both were bleeding from a dozen wounds, both were near exhaustion, both were spent, and both knew that it was but a question of moments ere one would fall. And then, with a tremendous blow, Blackbeard brought his heavy cutlass swinging down, the lighter blade of the officer’s snapped at the hilt, and with a blood-curdling, triumphant yell the pirate swung his cutlass up, whirled it about his head and aimed a death-dealing blow at Maynard’s head. Quick as a flash the lieutenant leaped aside, the stroke fell short, and Maynard escaped with the loss of three fingers lopped off by that terrible blow. “Before the pirate could raise his weapon again one of Maynard’s men had leaped forward, his cutlass fell upon the back of Blackbeard’s neck, almost severing the head from the body, and with a crimson fountain spouting from the awful gash the pirate turned and cut his assailant to the chin with a single blow. But despite his ghastly wound the pirate chieftain was still standing, still defiant, still fighting. All about, the decks were a shambles, his men were lying dead and wounded, half a dozen of Maynard’s men were attacking him. Kicking off his shoes to get a better foot-hold on the bloody deck, bellowing like a maddened bull, blood streaming from over twenty-five wounds, with his half-severed head lolling hideously upon his chest, but still defiant, Blackbeard backed against the bulwarks and slashed and lunged, keeping his enemies at bay until, as his life blood poured over his chest and beard and trickled to the decks, his muscles weakened and his blows grew less. Then, suddenly whipping a pistol from his belt, he made one last desperate effort to shoot down the lieutenant. But before he could press the trigger, before a man could strike the weapon up, his knees sagged, his eyelids closed, and with a gurgling, awful moan he sank lifeless to the deck. “Few of the pirates remained alive, none were unwounded. Those who had the strength leaped overboard, attempting to escape, but all were captured; Blackbeard and his men were wiped out and the only member of the pirates who had escaped was the sailing master, Israel Hands. Nursing the bullet wound in his knee, which had been so playfully inflicted by Blackbeard, he was safe ashore. Doubtless he most heartily gave thanks for his dead captain’s form of humor and blessed the wound that gave him a stiff leg for life. “Maynard’s losses, too, were tremendous; many of his men had been killed, scarcely one had escaped without serious wounds, but they forgot their hurts, for they were triumphant. Thirteen pirate prisoners were safe in irons in the sloop’s hold, the grewsome, awful head of the redoubtable Blackbeard was lashed to the tip of the bowsprit, and, hoisting sail, Maynard set forth for Bath Town, North Carolina, to claim his well-earned reward and exhibit his bloody trophy. There the thirteen prisoners were promptly hanged, Teach’s black-whiskered, blood-clotted head, with the burnt-out fuses still in the tangled hair, was placed in the market square, and the promised rewards were duly paid to the courageous lieutenant and his daring men.” “Jiminy!” exclaimed Fred. “That must have been some fight! Was that the end of the pirates?” “Practically,” replied Mr. Bickford. “Teach was the last pirate of note. There were a few who still lurked in the Caribbean, but the Atlantic coasts and the West Indies were getting too hot for them. Such rascals, as Low, England, Roberts and Avery, transferred their activities to more out-of-the-way spots, to Africa, Madagascar and the Indian Ocean, and the last of the West Indian pirates were dispersed and destroyed by Lieutenant, afterwards Commodore, Porter, who also wiped out the Tripolitan pirates.” “But how about Lafitte and his pirates?” asked Jack. “I thought they lived until the time of the war of 1812 and helped General Jackson at the battle of New Orleans.” “So they did,” replied his father. “But Lafitte and his brother were not really pirates. That is, no real acts of piracy were ever proved against them, although they were denounced as such. In reality the Lafittes were smugglers, but their career was so picturesque and romantic that their story may be quite fittingly included in that of the buccaneers and pirates. “The two brothers, Jean and Pierre Lafitte, were born in France, and came to New Orleans in the spring of 1809. They were brilliant, witty, well educated, attractive men, and spoke several languages fluently. The two started a blacksmith shop, which they operated by slaves, and from the first the brothers appeared to have plenty of money. At that time there was a strip of territory, stretching for a distance of about sixty miles from the mouth of the Mississippi to Bayou Lafourche, which was in almost undisputed possession of a colony of smuggler-pirates known as the ‘Baratarians,’ from the fact that their headquarters were on the Bay of Barataria, a body of water with a narrow opening protected from the Gulf by a low, narrow island about six miles long known as Grande-Terre. “Some of these Baratarians possessed letters of marque from France, as well as from the Republic of New Grenada (now Colombia), authorizing them to prey upon Spanish shipping, but like the pirates of old they had the reputation of lacking discrimination and of attacking any vessel that they could overpower. Whatever the truth of their piratical tendencies may have been, there was no question that they were smugglers on a large scale, and not long after the Lafittes arrived in Louisiana they joined their lot with these Baratarians. “Jean occupied a position as a sort of agent and banker for the smugglers, but he was far too clever and ambitious to remain long in such a subordinate capacity, and soon was the head and brains of the whole organization. To this state he won both by superior intelligence and force of arms, for both Lafittes were adept swordsmen and expert pistol shots, and when a fellow called Grambo, a burly leader among the Baratarians, had the temerity to question Jean Lafitte’s leadership the latter promptly whipped out a pistol and shot him through the heart. “Hitherto the Baratarians had been divided into factions, and there were constant dissensions and quarrels among them, but under Lafitte’s management all were united, and so daring and brazenly did they carry on their operations that within three years from the time the Lafitte brothers stepped ashore at New Orleans there was more commerce entering and leaving Barataria Bay than the port of New Orleans. Great warehouses rose above the low sand dunes of Grande-Terre; cargoes of slaves were weekly auctioned in the big slave market; from far and near merchants and dealers flocked to the smugglers’ stronghold to barter and trade, and it was evidently but a question of time before the Lafittes and their Baratarian friends would control all the import trade of the Mississippi Valley. “Becoming alarmed at the magnitude of operations, the federal government decided to break up the smugglers, and revenue cutters were dispatched to the bay. But the Baratarians’ spies were vigilant, word of the raid was brought, and the discomfited government officers returned empty-handed, without having accomplished anything worth while. Indeed, it was a common rumor in New Orleans that even the United States officials were in league with the Lafittes, and the wealthy, charming Frenchmen came and went, spent their money freely in New Orleans, drove about in splendid carriages and with magnificent horses, maintained expensive establishments, and snapped their slender, jeweled fingers at the authorities. “It was the greatest, most flagrant smuggling enterprise ever carried on in the history of the world, and at last Governor Claiborne of Louisiana decided to take drastic measures to suppress it. The penalties of the law for smuggling were evidently not severe enough to meet the case, and so, in 1813, the governor issued a proclamation in which he declared the Baratarians pirates, warned the citizens not to deal with them, and threatened to hang every one he could lay hands on. “But His Excellency might have saved his breath and his paper. Twirling gold-headed canes, decked in valuable jewels, attired in the most expensive and beautifully tailored clothes, the Lafitte brothers strolled nonchalantly through the streets and, surrounded by admirers, read with interest and amusement the official placards in which they were denounced as pirates. Then, to add insult to injury, they tacked up posters, advertising a slave auction to be held at Barataria, alongside the irate governor’s proclamations! “Beside himself with anger, but realizing he was unable to cope single-handed with the situation; Governor Claiborne issued a supplementary proclamation offering five hundred dollars reward for the apprehension of either of the Lafitte brothers. Only one man, as far as known, attempted to earn the reward, and instead of the five hundred dollars he received a bullet through the lungs which promptly relieved him of all desire or necessity for money or anything else of a worldly nature. “The governor was desperate. No one would raise a finger against the so-called ‘pirates,’ they openly defied the state, and he asked the Legislature for an appropriation to raise a company of volunteers to attack the stronghold of the Lafittes. Unfortunately the increase of the smugglers’ business had so depleted the state treasury that there were no funds available; but at last the governor succeeded in obtaining an indictment for piracy against the two Lafittes and the Baratarian leaders. Armed with this, the governor managed to have Pierre arrested. “But the executive had forgotten that money talks. For a fee of $20,000 each, Jean Lafitte retained the two most prominent lawyers in the state, Edward Livingston and John R. Grymes, the latter resigning as District Attorney to defend the Lafittes. During the trial his successor taunted him with this and as a result Grymes challenged him and shot him through the hip, crippling him for life. “There was no question of how the trial would result. Pierre was freed, Jean was cleared and the indictment against him dismissed and the triumphant lawyers were invited by the brothers to visit their headquarters at Barataria and collect their fees. Livingston, a New Yorker, declined, but Grymes, who was a Virginian, accepted, and the tale is still told in New Orleans of the princely entertainment, the magnificent feast and the whole-souled hospitality accorded the attorney by the Lafittes and their outlaw friends. Finally he was sent back to New Orleans in an almost regally appointed yawl laden with boxes containing the two lawyers’ fees in Spanish doubloons and pieces of eight. “Meanwhile the war between England and the United States had been going on for nearly two years. It had been felt but little on the shores of the Gulf, however, and the Baratarians, and even the more law-abiding citizens, scarcely knew that there was a conflict. But in September, 1814, the smuggler-pirate colony was started by the sudden appearance of an armed British brig off their island haunt. Hastily ordering out his private cutter, Jean Lafitte boarded the war vessel, invited the officers ashore and feasted them right royally. Then, as the merry party sat back and puffed at their fine Havanas the smuggler chieftain was presented with a letter from the British commandant at Pensacola. It was an offer of a high commission in the British army and a fee of $30,000, provided Lafitte would use his forces in assisting the British in their proposed invasion of Louisiana. “The Frenchman hesitated, replied that it would take him some time to decide upon such an important matter and asked for ten days in which to consider it. This was willingly granted, the officers were escorted back to their ship and, well satisfied with their progress, they prepared to await Lafitte’s reply, which they felt convinced would be favorable. But even before they had stepped upon their ship’s decks a messenger had been despatched post-haste by Lafitte to the Louisiana Legislature. Not only did the messenger carry a complete account of the British plans of invasion as divulged by the officers, but he also carried the letter from the English commandant and a letter from Lafitte offering the services of himself and his men in the defense of the state. “Instantly Governor Claiborne called a council of the army, navy and militia officers and showed them Lafitte’s communication. The officials could not believe that Lafitte—outlaw and smuggler and so-called pirate—could possess any sentiments of patriotism, and one and all declared that, in their opinions, the papers were forgeries and that Lafitte had submitted them in order to prevent the authorities from interfering with his plans. “As a result, an expedition was organized, and, under command of Commodore Patterson and Colonel Ross, set out to attack the Baratarians. Supposing, as was natural, that the approaching forces had been sent to combine with them against the British, the smugglers were taken completely by surprise; many were killed and captured and their headquarters were destroyed. Only the two Lafittes and a few followers escaped and a vast quantity of loot was seized by the victorious troops. Among this booty was found the jewelry of a Creole lady who had left New Orleans several years before and had never been heard from, and this circumstantial evidence of piracy was the sole and only thing ever produced to prove that the Lafittes or the Baratarians could be considered pirates. Upon that one incident all the tales of piracy by the Lafittes have been built up and, like Captain Kidd’s, their fame has grown from nothing. Despite the scurvy treatment accorded Lafitte by the governor, he still remained true to his adopted country and instead of joining the British—and he could scarcely have been blamed if he had—he remained with his brother and the other fugitives in hiding until General Andrew Jackson arrived to take supreme command at New Orleans. Then, risking life and liberty, he came forth again, offered his services and those of his men to the nation and was promptly accepted. General Jackson placed Lafitte in command of the redoubts along the river with a part of his men and detailed the others to the battery at New Orleans. Throughout that memorable battle the Baratarians and the Lafittes fought with such furious and whole-hearted bravery that they were lauded in the general orders issued after the victory, and at General Jackson’s suggestion all were granted full pardons. “After the battle, a great ball was given by the army and naval officers and great was the rejoicing, and at this brilliant function Jean Lafitte appeared for the last time. Among the honored guests was General Coffee, and the pompous General and the dandy Frenchman were brought together for an introduction. At first, as the orderly mentioned Lafitte’s name, the General hesitated and glanced superciliously over the smiling stranger. Lafitte stepped forward, drew himself up proudly and announced: ‘Lafitte, the pirate.’ Instantly the General thrust out his hand and grasped the other’s cordially. “Never again were the Lafittes seen in New Orleans or their old haunts. Rumors came from time to time, wild tales were told of their doings, but there was little to bear them out. It was, however, generally accepted as a fact beyond dispute that they went to an island near Galveston, secured commissions as privateers from a South American Republic and preyed upon Spanish shipping to their own considerable profit. “About that time, too, a United States cruiser was attacked by unknown corsairs in the Gulf and looted of an enormous sum in bullion and this was laid to the Lafittes. As a result, the Galveston settlement was attacked and destroyed, but no signs of the famous Lafittes were found. Perhaps they had never been there, perhaps they managed to escape. They completely disappeared and where they passed the remainder of their lives, where they died has never been discovered. Once it was reported, that they had sailed to the Argentine and had entered the service of the Buenos Ayres government. Again it was stated that they had established a pirate lair in Yucatan. There were stories of their having settled on Ruatan Island off Honduras, where they conducted wrecking and piratical undertakings, but definite news, actual proofs, were never forthcoming. “We can scarcely believe that men who had proved their patriotism and their valor, men who had shown their honor and their loyalty as had the Lafittes, would countenance an attack upon a United States ship. It does not seem like them to have degenerated into rascally cut-throats and wreckers. To my mind, it is far more probable that they returned to their beloved France or settled down under new names in some quiet tropical land and there passed the remainder of their lives like the accomplished gentlemen they were. No one will ever know. We can only surmise. But with the passing of these romantic, picturesque brothers went the last of the more famous pirates. And—as I said before—there was nothing to prove that they were pirates after all.” “Golly, I never knew the buccaneers and pirates were so interesting,” declared Fred, as Mr. Bickford ceased speaking. “I always loved to read stories about them, but they’re a lot more interesting than the stories.” “Yes,” agreed his uncle. “It’s a splendid example of the truth of the time-worn saying that ‘truth is stranger than fiction.’ And did you ever stop to think, boys, that if it hadn’t been for the buccaneers there might not—probably would not—have been any United States?” “Why, no!” cried Jack. “How could that be?” demanded Fred. “Very few people realize that we owe the buccaneers a tremendous debt of gratitude or that they played a most important part in the history of America. They may have been ruthless, cruel, bloodthirsty, unprincipled cut-throats, but if it had not been for the buccaneers the chances are that what is now the United States would have been a colony of Spain or a Spanish-American republic. It was very largely owing to the buccaneers that England retained her supremacy in the West Indies. She was far too busy with wars at home to look after her American possessions; Spain controlled South and Central America, Florida and the Southwest, and her sea power was tremendous. But the buccaneers kept the Dons in check, they compelled Spain to devote all her energies and her warships to protecting her cities and her plate ships, and, with the sea rovers everywhere in the Caribbean, the Dons could not expand their holdings and were hard put to it to hold what they had. It is no exaggeration to say that the buccaneers had a greater effect on maintaining England’s hold in America than all the British Crown’s forces. And the British navy was not at all blind to the services of the buccaneers. When the English attacked Jamaica and wrested it from Spain the buccaneers took a most important part and in many another sea battle, and land attack as well, the British navy and army were mighty glad of the buccaneers’ help. Whatever their sins and their misdeeds may have been, we cannot overlook the fact that they had a most important place in the scheme of things, that they helped make history and that they are entitled to a big niche in the hall of fame of pioneers, colonizers and fighters of America. And there is no need to fear that they will ever be forgotten. As long as there is red blood in the veins of men and boys; as long as human beings have pulses that will quicken to tales of heroism and bravery and mighty deeds, the swashbuckling, daredevil, picturesque buccaneers, and even the pirates who came after, will live on. The names of kings and queens may be forgotten. Famous admirals and generals may have passed into oblivion. Great battles and tremendous victories, treaties of peace and declarations of war; the conquests of countries; the subjugation of kingdoms may fade from memory, and yet, every schoolboy is familiar with the names of Morgan, L’Ollonois, Montbars, Hawkins and the other chieftains of the buccaneers. They were characters who can never die.” “Gee, I’m kind of sorry they have all gone,” declared Jack, as his father ceased speaking. “It would be great to see a real buccaneer or a real pirate ship.” Mr. Bickford smiled. “I’m afraid you’ll never see a buccaneer,” he said. “But you might see a pirate ship.” “Oh, do you really mean there are any pirates’ ships left?” cried Fred. “I can’t say, positively,” replied his uncle. “But there was one a very short time ago. She was doing duty as a packet between the Virgin Islands and her name was the Vigilant. She was a trim, speedy little schooner—the typical ‘low black craft with rakish masts’ of story and fiction and had had a most adventurous and romantic career. She was built at Baltimore and was originally intended as a privateer for use in the Revolution. But the war was over before she was launched and she served as a smuggler, a slaver and a pirate, changing hands frequently. At that time she was rigged as a topsail schooner and was called the Nonesuch, and at one time she was even a man-of-war. That happened when Denmark and Spain were at war and a Spanish cruiser was harassing Danish commerce, always escaping by fleeing to waters too shoal for the Danish war vessels. The Vigilant was pressed into service, disguised as a merchantman, and lured the Spaniard on until at close quarters, when she suddenly showed her real character in true pirate fashion, and, throwing grappling irons, the armed crew of the schooner swarmed over the Spaniard’s side, killed the captain and officers, overpowered the crew and captured the ship. It was the last engagement of the gallant little schooner—a fitting end to her career—and ever since she has done duty as an honest merchantman. I have seen her many times, have even sailed on her, and, for all I know to the contrary, she may still be plowing the blue Caribbean in the haunts of the buccaneers as staunch, fast and seaworthy as when the Jolly Roger flew from many a masthead.” THE END *** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE BOY'S BOOK OF BUCCANEERS *** Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will be renamed. 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