Son of a farmer—Runs to sea—Turns Buccaneer—Joins
Mansvelt, and takes the Island of St. Catherine—Mansvelt
dies—St. Catherine retaken by the Spaniards—Takes
Port-au-Prince—Quarrel of French and
English Buccaneers about a marrow-bone—Takes
Porto Bello—Captures Le Cerf Volant, a French vessel—It
blows up—Takes Maracaibo—City deserted—Tortures
an Idiot—Le Picard—Storms Gibraltar—Also
deserted—Tortures the Citizens—With a Fire-ship
destroys Spanish fleet, and repasses the Bar—Escapes
by stratagem—Rancheria expedition—Sails for Panama—Captain
Bradley takes the Castle of Chagres—Anecdote
of wounded Buccaneer.
Morgan's campaigns furnish one of the amplest
chapters of Buccaneer history. Equally
daring, but less cruel than Lolonnois, less
fanatical than Montbars, and less generous
and honest than De Lussan or Sharp, he
appears to have been the only freebooting
leader who obtained any formal recognition
from the English government. From an old
pamphlet, we find, that the expedition to
Panama was undertaken under the commission
and with the full approbation of the
English governor of Jamaica.
Sir Henry Morgan was the son of a Welsh
farmer, of easy circumstances, "as most who
bear that name in Wales are known to be,"
says Esquemeling, his Dutch historian. Taking
an early dislike to the monotonous, unadventurous
life of his father's house, he ran
away from home, and, coming to the coast,
turned sailor, and went to sea.
Embarking on board a vessel bound for
Barbadoes, that lay with several others in
the port, he engaged himself in the usual
way to a planter's agent, who resold him for
three years immediately on his arrival in the
West Indies. Having served his time and
obtained his hard-earned liberty, he repaired
to Jamaica, a place of which wild stories
were told all over the Main. He resolved to
seek his fortune at that El Dorado, and
arriving there, saw two Buccaneer vessels
just fitting out for an expedition. Being
now in search of employment, and finding
this suit his daring and restless spirit, he
determined to embrace the life of a Flibustier.
The gentlemen of fortune were successful,
and had not been long at sea before they
took a valuable prize.
This early success was as fatal to Morgan
as good luck is to a young gambler on his
first visit to a hell. It roused his ambition,
heightened his hope, and encouraged him
to continue a career so auspiciously begun.
He followed the Buccaneer chiefs, and learnt
their manners of living. In the course of
only three or four voyages, he signalized
himself so much as to acquire the reputation
of a good soldier, remarkable for his valour
and success. He was a good shot, and renowned
for his intrepidity, coolness, and
determination. He seemed to foresee all
contingencies, and set about his schemes
with a firm confidence that insured their
success.
Having already laid by much money, and
being fortunate both in his voyages and in gambling,
Morgan agreed with a few rich comerades
to join stock, and to buy a vessel, of which
he was unanimously appointed commander.
Such was the usual beginning of an adventurer's
career. Setting out from Jamaica, he
soon became remarkable for the number of
prizes which he took, his well known stations
being round the coast of Campeachy. With
these prizes he returned triumphantly to
Jamaica, his name established as a terror to
the Spaniard, and a war-cry to the English.
Finding Mansvelt, an old Buccaneer, lying
in harbour, about to start on a grand expedition
to the mainland, he joined him, and was
at once elected as vice-admiral of a small
fleet of fifteen vessels and 600 men, part
English and part French.
They sailed first to the island of St.
Catherine, near the continent of Costa Rica,
and distant about thirty-five degrees from
the river of Chagres. Here they made their
first descent, and found the Spaniards well
entrenched in forts, strongly built of hewn
stone, but landing most of their men they
soon forced the garrisons to surrender. Morgan
distinguished himself remarkably in this
expedition, forcing even his very enemies to
laud his skill and valour. He now proceeded
to demolish all the castles but one, in which
he placed 100 men, and the slaves and
prisoners, and proceeded to attack a small
neighbouring island. In a few days they
threw over a bridge to join it to St.
Catherine's, and conveyed over it all the larger
ordnance which they had taken, laying waste
their first conquest with fire and sword.
They then set sail again, having first set their
prisoners ashore near Portobello, intending to
cruise along Costa Rica, as far as the river
Colla, and burn and pillage all the towns up
to Nata. They had, in fact, only taken the
island in order to procure a guide who could
lead them on their way to Nata, knowing
that the Spaniards used St. Catherine's as a
depôt for their prisoners of all nations. The
first step towards a Buccaneer expedition was
to procure a guide. They found, to their
delight, a mulatto who knew Nata, and who
undertook to lead them to the destruction of
a people whom he hated. It is probable, too,
that Mansvelt had already projected founding
a colony at St. Catherine's, which might be
neither dependent on the French nor the English.
But their schemes were frustrated, for
the governor of Panama, hearing of their
approach, and of their past success, advanced
to meet them with a body of men, and compelled
them to retreat suddenly, for the whole
country was now alarmed and their plans all
known.
Morgan, however, seeing St. Catherine's to
be a well-fortified island, easily defended, and
important as to situation, because its harbour
was good and near the Spanish settlements,
resolved to hold it, appointing as governor
Le Sieur Simon, a Frenchman, whom he left
behind, with a garrison of 100 men. St.
Simon had behaved well in his absence, and
put the island in a good posture of defence,
had strengthened the four large forts, and
turned the smaller island into a citadel,
guarding carefully the three accessible spots,
planting vegetables and clearing plantations
in the smaller island, where abundance of
fresh water could be procured, providing
victual enough for the fleet for two voyages.
The two commanders now determined to
return to Jamaica, promising to send recruits
to Simon, for fear of an invasion, and themselves
to bring speedy succours, intending to
make the island a sanctuary and refuge for
the brotherhood of both nations. The governor
of Jamaica refused to accede to Mansvelt's
requests for soldiers, afraid to weaken the
forces of the island without permission from
England. Mansvelt, worn out with delay,
hastened to Tortuga, and died while collecting
volunteers, his plans being still in embryo.
Had his scheme succeeded, and been
pushed with energy, the Buccaneers might
have founded a republic, and have eventually
driven the Spaniards out of the
Indies.
While Simon was impatiently expecting
succour from Jamaica, and astonished at
Mansvelt's really unavoidable silence, the
Spaniards were preparing to smoke out the
wasps' nest that lay so dangerously near their
orchard. A new governor of Costa Rica
threw unusual decision into their plans.
Fearing they should lose the Indies piecemeal,
they resolved to crush the evil ere it grew
indestructible. Don Juan Perez de Guzman
equipped a fleet of four vessels with fifty or
sixty men each, commanded by Don Joseph
Sancho Ximenes, major-general of the garrison
of Porto Bello. Don Juan, in a letter to Simon,
promised him a reward if he would surrender
the island to his Catholic Majesty, and threatened
him with punishment if he resisted.
Simon, seeing the impossibility and uselessness
of resistance, surrendered it after a few
shots, on the same condition with which
Morgan had obtained it from the enemy.
The Spaniards made much of their victory,
publishing "a true relation and particular
account of the victory obtained by the arms
of his Catholic Majesty, against the English
pirates, by the direction and valour of Don
Juan Perez de Guzman, knight of the order
of St. James, governor and captain-general of
Terra Firma, and the province of Veraguas."
The account goes on to describe the arrival
of fourteen English vessels on the coast,
1665, their arrival at Puerto de Naos, and the
capture of St. Catherine's from the governor,
Don Estevan del Campo, the enemy landing
unperceived. Upon this the valorous Don
Juan called a council of war, wherein he declared
the great progress the said pirates had
made in the dominions of his Catholic Majesty,
and propounded, "that it was absolutely
necessary to send some forces to the
isle of St. Catherine, sufficient to retake it
from the pirates, the honour and interest of
his Majesty of Spain being very narrowly
concerned herein, otherwise the pirates, by
such conquests, might easily, in course of
time, possess themselves of 'all the countries
thereabout.'" The less vapouring, or more
pacific, ingeniously proposed to leave the
pirates alone till they perished for want of
provisions, but Don Juan, overruling their
timidity, sent stores to the militia of Porto
Bello, and conveyed himself there, with no
small danger of his life. At this port he
found the St. Vincent, a good ship, belonging
to the Negro Company, which he equipped
with a crew of 270 soldiers, thirty-seven
prisoners, thirty-two of the Spanish garrison,
twenty-nine mulattos of Panama, twelve
Indian archers, seven gunners, two lieutenants,
two pilots, a surgeon, and a Franciscan
chaplain. Before they set sail, Don
Juan (who did not go with them) encouraged
them to fight against the enemies of their
country and their religion, "those inhuman
pirates who had committed so many horrid
cruelties upon the subjects of his Catholic
Majesty," promising liberal rewards to all
who behaved themselves well in the service
of their king and country. At Carthagena,
they received a reinforcement of one frigate,
one galleon, a boat, and 127 men.
On arriving at the island, the pirates discharged
three guns, refused to surrender,
and declared they preferred to lose their
lives. The next day three negro deserters,
swimming to the admiral, told him there
were only seventy-two men on the island,
and two days after the day of the Assumption
the Spaniards landed and commenced
the affray. The St. Vincent attacked the
Conception battery, the St. Peter the St.
James's forts, the pirates driving off many of
the enemy by loading their guns with part
of the pipes of a church organ, threescore
pipes at a time. The pirates lost six men before
surrendering, the Spaniards one. They
found in the island 800 lbs. of powder, and
250 lbs. of bullets. Two Spanish deserters,
discovered amongst the prisoners, were "shot
to death" the next day. The prisoners were
transported to Puerto Velo, all but three,
who, by order of the governor, were kept as
a trophy, like chained Samsons, to work in
the castle of St. Jerome at Panama, a fortress
building by the governor at his own expense.
A day or two after this unavoidable surrender,
a vessel arrived at St. Catherine,
bringing reinforcements and provisions from
the governor of Jamaica, who had repented
of his rejection of Mansvelt's proposal, but
had not even yet the courage to be boldly
dishonest. The Spaniards, hoisting an English
flag, persuaded Simon to welcome it, and
betray it into their hands. There were fourteen
men on board and two women, all of
whom were made prisoners.
On the death of Mansvelt, Morgan became
without opposition the leader of all the adventurers
of Jamaica. He at once published
far and wide his intention of setting out on
a grand expedition, and named Cuba as a
rendezvous, St. Catherine's not being far distant.
Morgan had been no less anxious than
Mansvelt to make this island a fortress and
a storehouse. He had written to the merchants
of Virginia and New England, to contract
with them for ammunition and provisions;
but this hope being ended by the Spanish
conquest, he felt himself free to embark on
a wider and more ambitious field. His plans
were for a moment defeated, but his courage
and ambition were not a whit humbled.
Two months spent in the southern ports of
Cuba sufficed him to collect a fleet of twelve
sail, with 700 fighting men, part English,
part French, resolved to follow him to the
death. To prevent the disunion so frequent
between the two nations, Morgan had a
clause inserted in the charter-party, empowering
him to condemn to instant death
any adventurer who killed or wounded another.
A council was then called to decide
on what place they should first fall. Some
proposed Santiago, which had been before
sacked, others a swoop on the tobacco of the
Havannah, or the dye-woods of Campeachy.
Many voices were strong for a night assault
on the Havannah, which, they said, could be
taken before the castle could be ready to
defend itself. The very ransom of the
clergy they might carry off, would be worth
more than the pillage of a smaller town.
But some Buccaneers, who had been prisoners
there, said nothing could be done with
less than 1500 men, and the proposal was
abandoned, when they proved that they must
first go to the island de los Pinos, and land
in small boats at Matamana, fourteen leagues
from the city.
At last some one proposed a visit to Port-au-Prince,
a town of Cuba, very rich from its
traffic in hides, and which, being far inland
and built on a plain, could be very easily
surprised. The speaker knew the city well,
and was sure that it never had been sacked.
Despairing of collecting forces enough to
attempt the Havannah, they pursued the
Spaniard's plan. Morgan at once acceded to
this scheme, and, giving the captain the signal
of weighing anchor, steered for Port St.
Mary, the nearest harbour to Port-au-Prince.
The night of their arrival in the bay a
Spanish prisoner threw himself into the sea,
and swimming on shore went to inform the
governor of the Buccaneers' plans, having,
with a scanty knowledge of English, gathered
a full insight, deeper than history tells us, of
Morgan's intentions.
The governor instantly sent to the neighbouring
town for succour, and collected, in a
few hours, a force of 800 armed freemen and
slaves, occupying a pass which the Buccaneers
must traverse. He cut down the trees,
barricaded the approaches, and planned eight
ambuscades, strengthened by cannon to play
upon them on their march. He then marched
out into a savannah, where he might see the
Buccaneers at a long distance.
The townsmen, in the meanwhile, prepared
for the worst with the usual timidity of the
rich, hiding their riches and carrying away
their movables. The adventurers, on entering
the place, found the paths almost impassable
with trees, but, supposing themselves
discovered, took to the woods, and thus
fortunately escaped the ambuscade.
The governor, seeing the enemy, to his
astonishment, emerge from the trees into the
plain, instantly ordered his cavalry to surround
them as he would have done a troop of
wolves, intending to disperse them first with
his horse and then pursue them with his
main body. The Buccaneers, nothing daunted
by the flashing of the spears or the tramp of
the horsemen, advanced boldly, with drums
beating and colours displayed. They drew
up in a semicircle to receive the charge, and
advanced swiftly towards the enemy, not
waiting to be attacked. The Spaniards
charged them hotly for a while, but, finding
their enemies dexterous at their arms,
moving their feet forward rather than backward;
and seeing their governor and many
of their companions dead at their feet, fled
headlong to the town; those who escaped
towards the wood were killed before they
could reach it. The Buccaneers with few men
either killed or wounded, advancing still in
their phalanx, killed without mercy all they
met, for the space of the four hours that the
fight lasted. The fugitives of the town
barred themselves in their houses and kept
up a fire from the windows and loopholes.
The shots from the roofs and balconies still
continuing, though the town was taken, the
Buccaneers threatened, if the firing did not
cease, to set the town in a flame, and cut the
women and children in pieces before the
eyes of the survivors.
Having thus silenced all resistance, Morgan
drove all his prisoners, men, women,
children, and slaves, into the cathedral, where
he placed a guard. He then gave the
town over to pillage, for the benefit of his
joint-stock company, finding much that was
valuable, but little money, so skilful had the
Spaniards grown in hiding. Parties were
next sent out, as usual, to plunder the
suburbs, and bring in provisions and prisoners
for the torture.
The revelry then began, while the prisoners
were allowed to starve in the churches; old
women and children were daily tortured to
make them disclose where their money was
hidden.
The monks had been the first to fly from
the English heretics, but bands of them were
frequently captured in the woods, and thrown,
half dead with fear, to confess the dying in
the prisons. When pillage and provisions
grew scanty, and they themselves began to
feel the privations they had inflicted on others,
the Buccaneers resolved to depart, after fifteen
days' residence, a favourite time with the
brotherhood.
They now demanded a double ransom of
their chief prisoners; first, for themselves,
under pain of being transported to Jamaica;
and secondly, for the town, or it would be
burned to the ground. Four merchants were
chosen to collect the contributions, and some
Spaniards were first tortured in their presence,
to increase the zeal of their applications.
After a few days, they returned empty-handed,
and demanded a respite of fifteen
days, which Morgan granted. They had
searched all the woods, they said, and found
none of their countrymen. Delay now grew
dangerous—a party of foragers had captured
a negro, with letters from the governor of
Santiago, telling the citizens not to make too
much haste to pay the ransom, but to put off
the pirates with excuses till he could come
to their aid. Enraged at what he deemed
treachery, Morgan swore he would have no
more delay, and would burn the town the
next day if the ransom was not paid down,
but not alluding to the detected letter, and
betraying no apprehension. Still unable to
obtain money, Morgan consented to take 500
oxen, which he insisted on the Spaniards
placing on board his ships at Port-au-Prince,
together with salt enough to "powder" them,
needing the flesh to re-victual for a fresh and
more profitable expedition.
The same day Morgan left the city, taking
with him six of the principal citizens as
hostages. The next day came the cattle, but
he now required the Spaniards to assist him
in killing and salting them. This was done
in a great hurry, Morgan expecting every
moment the Santiago vessels would appear in
sight. As soon as the butchering was completed
he released his hostages and set sail,
unwilling to fight when nothing could be
gained by victory.
At this juncture, the smouldering jealousy
of the two nations that formed his crews
broke into a flame. The grudges of the last
voyage had been perpetuated, and had grown
into a deep and lasting feud, producing ultimately
a disunion fatal to all increase of the
power of the brotherhood of the coast.
While the prisoners were toiling at salting
the beeves, the sailors employed themselves
in drinking and rejoicing at their success,
cooking the richest morsels while they were
still fresh, and all hands intent on securing
the hot marrow bones, the favourite delicacy
of the hunters of Hispaniola. A Frenchman,
employed as one of the butchers, had drawn
out the dainty and placed it by his side, as a
bonne bouche when his work was over. An
English Buccaneer, more hungry than polite,
passing by, and knowing no reservation of
property in such a republic, snatched up the
reeking bone and carried it off. The Frenchman,
pursuing him with angry vociferations,
challenged him to fight for it, but before
they could reach the place of combat, the
aggressor stabbed his adversary in the back,
and laid him dead on the spot. The Frenchmen,
rising in arms, made it a national
quarrel, and demanded redress. Morgan,
just and impartial by nature and from policy,
arrested the murderer and condemned him to
be instantly shot, declaring that he had a right
to challenge his adversary, but not to stab him
treacherously. Œxmelin says, the man was
sent in chains to Jamaica (and there tried
and hung), Morgan promising to see justice
done upon him. The French, however,
remained discontented, lamented the fate of
their comrade, and vowed revenge.
Morgan, not waiting for the governor of
Jamaica to share his spoil, sailed to a small
island, at some distance, to make the dividend.
To the general grief and disgust, they
found the whole amounted to only 60,000
crowns, not enough to pay their debts at
Jamaica: this did not include the silk stuffs
and other merchandise, which gave a poor
pittance of 80 crowns to each man, as the
return for so much danger and privation.
Morgan, as unwilling as the rest to revisit
Port Royal empty-handed, proposed a new
expedition, in search of a greater prize. But
the French, not able to agree with the
English, left the fleet, in spite of all their
commander's persuasions, but still with every
external mark of friendship, entreating to the
last to have justice done to the "infame."
Morgan, who had always placed great
reliance on the courage of the French adventurers,
was not going to relinquish his new
expedition on account of their desertion. He
had inspired his men with courage and the hope
of acquiring riches, and they all resolved to
follow him to the attack of the place, whose
name he would not yet disclose, exciting them
by a mystery, which prevented the possibility
of treachery.
He put forth to sea with eight small
vessels, but was soon joined by an adventurer
of Jamaica, just returning from Campeachy;
with this new ally, he had now a force of
nine vessels and 470 men, many French
being still among them, and arrived at Costa
Rica with all his fleet safe.
As soon as they sighted land, he disclosed
his design to his captains, and soon after to
all his seamen. He intended to storm Porto
Bello by night, and to put the whole city to
the sack: he was confident of success, because
no one knew of his secret; although some of
his men thought their force too small for such
an enterprise. To these Morgan replied, that
if their number was small, their courage was
great, and the fewer they were the more
booty for each, with the greater prospect of
union and secresy; and upon this, all agreed
unanimously to the design.
By good fortune, or by preconcerted arrangement,
one of Morgan's crew turned out
to be an Englishman who, only a short
time before, had been a prisoner at Porto
Bello, and his past sufferings now proved
to have been the foundation of his future
good fortune. Having escaped from that
place, he knew every inch of the coast,
which had been so painfully impressed on
his mind, and Morgan submitted, with perfect
confidence, to his guidance. By his
advice, they steered straight for the bay of
Santa Maria, arriving there purposely about
dusk, and reached a spot about twelve
leagues from the city, without meeting any
vessel. They then sailed up the river to
Puerto Pontin, four leagues distant, taking
advantage of the land wind that sprang up,
cool and fresh, at night.
They here anchored, and embarked in
boats, leaving a few men to bring on the
ships. Rowing softly, they reached about
midnight a place called Estera de Longa
lemos, where they all landed, and marched
upon the outposts of the city.
Michael Scott describes Porto Bello as
built in a miserable, dirty, damp hole, surrounded
by high forest-clad hills, wreathed
in mist, and reeking with dirt and fever.
Everlasting vapours obscure the sun, and
mingle with the exhalation of the steaming
marshes of the lead-coloured, land-locked cove
that forms the harbour.
They were now within reach of the
strongest city in the Spanish West Indies,
except Havannah and Carthagena, the port
of Panama, and the great mart for silver and
negroes. Leaving as usual a party to guard
the boats, and preceded by their guide, they
began halfway to the town to prepare their
arms. Upon approaching the first sentinel,
Morgan sent forward the guide and three
or four others to surprise him. They did it
cunningly, before he could fire his musket,
and brought him with his hands bound to
Morgan, who, threatening him with death,
asked him how things in the city went, and
what forces they had, making a "thousand
menaces to kill him if he did not speak the
truth." The terrified Spaniard informed
them that the town was well garrisoned, but
that there were very few inhabitants; the
merchants only residing in the town while
the galleons are loading, and that he would
be able to take the place in spite of all the
fortresses and the 300 soldiers. Morgan then
pushed on to the fort, carrying the man
bound before them, and after a quarter of a
league reached the castle, where the man's
company was stationed, closely surrounding
it, so that no one could get in or go out. The
prisoner had in vain attempted to avoid this
redoubt, to which he had served as picket,
encouraged by Morgan's promises of reward,
and avowal that he would not give him up to
his countrymen.
The Spaniards, finding the sentinel gone,
had already spread the alarm of the Buccaneers'
approach. From beneath the walls
Morgan commanded the sentinel to summon
the garrison to surrender at once to his discretion,
or they should be cut in pieces
without quarter. Not regarding these threats,
the Spaniards began instantly to discharge
their guns and muskets to alarm the town
and obtain succour. But though they made
a good resistance they were soon overpowered,
and the Buccaneers, driving them into one
room, set fire to the powder which lay about
on the floor, and blew the tower and its
defenders together into the air; all the survivors
they put to the sword, in order to
strike terror in the city.
At daybreak they fell upon the city, and
found the inhabitants, some still asleep and
others scared and alarmed; many had thought
of nothing but hiding their treasure, and only
the professional soldier prepared for resistance.
The governor, unable to rally the
citizens, fled into the citadel, and fired upon
the town as well as the enemy. The
frightened herd, stupid with fear, were
throwing their money and jewels into wells
and cisterns, or burying their treasure
in their courtyards, cellars, gardens, and
chapels. The adventurers, abstaining from
pillage, sent a chosen party to the convents
to make prisoners of the religious, male and
female; while another division prepared
ladders to escalade the fort, not relaxing for
a moment either in attack or defence. They
attempted in vain to burn down a castle-gate
which proved to be of iron, and baffled
their efforts, and kept up a warm fire at the
embrasures, aiming with such dexterity at
the mouths of the guns as to kill a gunner
or two every time the pieces were either
run out or loaded.
The firing continued from daybreak till
noon, and even then the result seemed doubtful,
for when the adventurers approached the
walls with their grenades to burn the doors
the defenders threw down upon them earthen
pots full of powder, and lighted by a fusee,
together with showers of stones and other
missiles. Morgan himself began to despair
of success, and did not know how to escape
from that strait, when the English flag arose
above the smaller fort, and a troop of men
ran forth to proclaim victory with shouts of
joy. The remaining castle, however, was
the pièce de resistance, being the storehouse
of the church plate, and the wealth of the
richer citizens now with the garrison. A
stratagem was suggested, appealing strongly
to Spanish superstition, and, as it happened,
successfully. Ten or twelve ladders were made
so broad and strong that three or four men
might mount them abreast. To all threats
the governor replied he would never surrender
alive, although the religious should
themselves plant the ladders. The monks
and nuns were then dragged to the heads of
the companies, and forced to plant the ladders,
in spite of the hot rain of fire and shot;
the governor "using his utmost endeavours
to destroy all who came near the walls, firing
on the servants of God, although his kinsmen,
and prisoners, and forced to the service.
Delicate women and aged men were goaded
at the sword's point to this hateful labour,
derided by the English, and unpitied by their
countrymen."
All this time the Buccaneers maintained
an unceasing fire along the whole line of grey
battlements at every aperture where a pike
head glittered or a lighted match smouldered;
suffering much in return, unarmed as they
were, guarded neither by steel-cap nor cuirass,
and unsheltered by palisade or earthwork.
In spite of the cries of the religious as they
reared the ladders, their prayers to the saints,
and their entreaties to the garrison to remember
their common blood and nation,
many of the priests were shot before the
walls could be scaled. The more superstitious
of the Spaniards were unnerved at
hearing the dying curse of the consecrated
servants of God, rising shrill above the roar
of the battle. The ladders were at last
planted, amid a shower of fire-pots that killed
almost as many of the Spaniards as the English,
and the Buccaneers sprang up with all the
agility of sailors and the determination of Berserkers;
their best marksmen shooting down
the few Spaniards who awaited their arrival
at the summit. Their falling bodies struck
a few Buccaneers from their ladders. Every
man that went up carried hand grenades,
pistols, and sabre, but the musket was now
laid aside, for it had done its work, and was
a mere encumbrance in the grapple of closer
combat. The English swarmed up in great
numbers, and reaching the top kindled their
fusees and threw down their fire-pots upon the
crowded ranks of the enemy, with destructive
effect. Before they could recover their dismay,
sabre in hand, as if they were boarding,
they leaped down upon the garrison, who
drove them off with pikes and clubbed
muskets, and, closing with them, hurled
many from the ramparts, or, stabbing them,
fell clenched with the foe in their despair.
When their cannon was taken, the Spaniards
threw down their arms and begged for quarter,
except the governor and a few officers, who
determined to die fighting against the robbers
and heretics, the enemies of God and Spain.
The Buccaneers, seeing the red flag flying
from the first fort, which was the strongest,
and built on an eminence which commanded
the towers below, advanced with confidence
to the attack of the remaining one, hitherto
thought impregnable, which defended the
port, and prevented the entrance of their
vessels, which they wished to secure safe in
the harbour, as the number of their wounded
would require their long stay in the place
they had captured. The governor, proud
and brave, still refused to surrender, and
fired upon them with his cannon, which were
soon silenced by the superior fire of the
newly-taken fort, which flanked his position.
Out of this last stronghold, the weary and
despairing defenders were quickly driven.
Major Castellon, the stout-hearted governor,
disdaining to ask quarter of a pack of
heretic seamen, killed several of his own men
who would not stand to their arms and called
on him to save their lives, and struck down
many of the hunters who tried to take him
alive, not from a generous compassion, for
pity seldom entered a Buccaneer's heart,
but in order to obtain his ransom. A
still more cruel trial of his courage, and
duty to his king, awaited him: his wife and
children fell at his knees, and, with cries
and tears, begged him to lay down his arms
and save both their lives. But he obstinately
and sternly refused, replying, "Better this
than a scaffold," preferring to die as a
valiant soldier at his post, than to be hanged
as a coward for deserting it. He died the
death of a brave man, fighting desperately,
and was found buried under the bodies of
his dead enemies. If unpitied by his ferocious
foes, he has left a name to be honoured
by all brave men, as one worthy of a more
chivalrous age, and a better cause.
It now being nearly sunset, and the city
their own, the adventurers enclosed all their
prisoners in the citadel, separating the
wounded, and, although heedless of their
sufferings, employing the female slaves to
wait upon them. It now being nearly night,
they gave way to all the excesses of soldiers
in a town taken by storm, exasperated by
the recollection of past danger, and the
death of friends, and maddened by both the
certainty of present pleasure and the power
of indulging in every success. Œxmelin
says, fifty brave Spaniards might have put
all the revellers to death, and recovered the
place. We do not, however, hear that a
single Spanish Jael was found to revenge
herself on these modern Siseras.
The following morning Morgan summoned
his vessels into the harbour, and collecting
all the loose wealth of the town, had it
brought into the fort. Directing the repairs
of the ramparts, scorched and shattered, he
remounted the guns, in order to be ready
to repel any attack from Panama. He collected
a few of the prisoners who had been
persuaded to say they were the richest merchants
in Porto Bello, and put all who would
not confess to the torture. He maimed some
and killed others, who remained silent because
they were in reality poor, and had concealed
no treasure. Having spent fifteen
days in these alternate cruelties and debaucheries,
Morgan resolved to retreat. No Buccaneer
general had ever taken a city which
could not be stripped clean in fourteen days.
Famine and disease began ungratefully to
take the part of the Spaniard against the
nation that had fed them with so many victims.
Wild waste compelled them already
to devour their mules and horses, rather than
die of hunger, or turn cannibals. Parties of
hunters were sent into the suburbs to hunt
the cattle, whose flesh they then devoured,
saving the mules for the prisoners, who,
between their wounds and their hunger, were
reduced to dreadful extremities.
A death more terrible than that of a blow
in battle now appeared in their midst. Many
had already died victims of excess, and even
the most prudent perished. The bad food,
the sudden transition from excess to want,
and the impurity of the tainted air, produced
a pestilence. The climate of Porto Bello,
always unhealthy, as Hosier's squadron afterwards
experienced, was poisoned by the putrefaction
of the dead bodies, hastily buried,
and scarcely covered by earth. The wounded
nearly all sickened, and the intemperate were
the first to die.
The prisoners, crowded together, and already
weakened mentally by despondency, and
physically by famine, soon caught the fever,
and died with dreadful rapidity. Rich merchants,
accustomed to every luxury, and to the
most varied and seasoned food, pined under a
diet of half-putrid mule's flesh, and bad, unfiltered
water. Everything warned Morgan that
it was time to weigh anchor, for the president
of Panama was already on his march towards
the city at the head of 1500 men. Informed
of their approach from a slave captured
by a hunting party, Morgan held a
council, at which it was agreed not to retreat
until they had obtained a ransom for the town
greater than the spoil at present collected;
and, in order to prevent a surprise, he placed
a body of 100 well-armed men in a narrow
defile, where but a few men could go abreast,
and through which the president must pass.
They found that that general had fewer
troops with him than was reported, and these
took flight at the first encounter, and did not
attempt again to force a passage, but waited
for reinforcements. The president, with the
usual gasconade of a Spaniard, sent word to
Morgan, that if he did not at once leave
Porto Bello he should receive no quarter
when he should take him and his companions,
as he hoped soon to do.
To this, Morgan, knowing he had a sure
means of escape, said he should not leave
till he had received 180,000 pieces of eight
as a ransom for the city, and if he could not
get this he should kill all his prisoners, blow
up the castle, and burn the town, and two
men were sent by him to the president to
procure the money.
The president, seeing that nothing could
either deceive or intimidate Morgan, gave up
Porto Bello to its fate, not caring to erect a
silver bridge for a flying enemy. In vain he
sent to Carthagena for a fleet to block up the
ships in the river; in vain he kept the citizens
in suspense as to the money, in hopes of
gaining time. He was deaf and obdurate to
all the entreaties of the citizens, who sent to
inform him that the pirates were not men
but devils, and that they fought with such
fury that the Spanish officers had stabbed
themselves, in very despair, at seeing a supposed
impregnable fortress taken by a handful
of people, when it should have held out
against twice the number.
Don Juan Perez de Guzman, the president,
a man of "great parts," and who had attained
high rank in the war in Flanders,
expressed himself, with candour, as astonished
at the exploits of 400 men (not regular soldiers)
who, with no other arms but their
muskets, had taken a city which any general
in Europe would have found necessary to
have blockaded in due form. He gave the
people of Porto Bello, at the same time, leave
to compound for their safety, but offered
them no aid to insure it.
To Morgan himself he could not refrain
from expressing astonishment. He admired
his success, with no ordnance for batteries,
and against the citizens of a place who bore
the reputation of being good soldiers, never
wanting courage in their own defence. He
begged, at the same time, that he would send
him some small pattern of the arms wherewith
he had, with such vigour, taken so great
a city. Morgan received the messenger with
great kindness and civility, flattered by the
compliment from an enemy, and glad of an
opportunity of expressing contempt of any
assailants. He took a hunter's musket from
one of his men, and sent it, together with a
handful of Buccaneer bullets, to the president,
begging him to accept it as a small
pattern of the arms wherewith he had taken
Porto Bello, hoping he would keep it a
twelvemonth or two, at which time he hoped
to visit Panama and fetch it away. The
Spaniard, astonished at the wit and civility of
the captain, whom he had deemed a mere
brutal sea thief, sent a messenger to return the
present, as he did not need the loan of weapons,
but thanking Morgan and praising his
courage, remarking at the same time that it
was a pity that such a man should not be
employed in a just war, and in the service of
a great and good prince, and hoping, in conclusion,
that he would not give himself the
trouble of coming to see him at Panama, as
he would not fare there so well as he had
done at Porto Bello. Having delivered this
message, so chivalrous in its tone, the messenger
presented Morgan with a beautiful
gold ring, set with a costly emerald, as a remembrance
of his master Don Guzman, who
had already supplied the English chief with
fresh provisions.
Having now provided himself with all
necessaries, and stripped the unfortunate
city of almost everything but its tiles and
its paving stones, carried off half of the
castle guns and spiked the rest, he then
set sail, taking on board the ransom, which
was punctually paid in the shape of silver
bars. Corn seldom grew where his foot had
once been, and he left behind him famine,
pestilence, poverty, and death. Orphans
and widows, mutilated men and violated
women leaped for joy as his fleet melted into
the distance.
Setting sail, with great speed, he arrived
in eight days at Cuba, where the spoil was
divided.
They found that they had in gold and
silver, whether in coin or bar, and in
jewels, which from haste and ignorance were
seldom estimated at one-fourth part of their
value, to the value of 260,000 pieces of
eight. This did not include the silks and
merchandise, of which they paid little heed,
only valuing coin or bullion, and regarding
the richest prize without coin as scarce
worth the taking. This division accomplished,
to the general satisfaction of all
but the people of Porto Bello, who were
now poor enough to defy all thieves,
they returned at once to Jamaica, where
they were magnificently received, Œxmelin
says, "surtout des cabaretiers." Every door
was open to them, and for a whole week
all loudly praised their generosity and their
courage; at the end of a month, every door
was shut in their faces, all but one—the
prison for debts, and that closed behind their
backs. "They spent in a short time," says
one of their historians, "with boundless prodigality,
what they had gained with boundless
danger and unremitting toil." The people
of Tortuga considered them as mere slaves,
who dived to get their pearls, and cared not
whether they perished by the wave or by the
shark, so the pearls which they had gathered
could be first secured.
"Not long after their arrival in Jamaica,"
says Esquemeling, "being that short time
needed to lavish away all their riches, they
concluded on another enterprise to seek new
fortunes:" a sailor spends his money quickly,
and so does a highwayman—in them both
trades were combined. Morgan remained
at rest as long as most Buccaneers did, that
is to say, till he had drunk out half his
money, strung the jewels of Spanish matrons
around the necks of the fairest courtesans in
Jamaica, and stripped himself at the gambling-table
to-day in the hope of recovering
the losses of yesterday. As his purse grew
thin his heart grew stout, as his hunger
grew greater his thirst for blood began also
to increase. At last he looked seaward,
turned his back on the lotus-land and the
sirens, and prepared for sea.
His rendezvous this time was fixed in a
small island on the south side of Hispaniola,
in order to invite both the French hunters
and the sailors of Tortuga. By this sign of
confidence Morgan hoped to remove all
rankling prejudice between the French and
English adventurers, and to obtain recruits
from both nations. He resolved this time
upon an expedition which would enable him
and his men to retire from the sea life for
ever, or at least to hold a longer revel.
The Buccaneers of the coast seeing him
always successful, and never returning without
booty, less cruel and less rash than Lolonnois,
and not only very brave but very
fortunate, flocked to his flag almost without
a summons. Every one furbished up his
musket, cast bullets, bought powder, or
fitted up a canoe. Parties were at once
despatched to hunt in the savannahs, and to
prepare salted meat sufficient for the voyage.
Great numbers of French and English
crowded to Cow Island.
A powerful ally appeared at this crisis, in
the shape of a French vessel, Le Cerf Volant,
of St. Malo, which had come out to the
Indies, virtuously intending to trade with
the Spaniards, but, finding this difficult or
unprofitable, had less virtuously determined
to live by plundering them, and was now
manned by French adventurers from Tortuga,
no friends to Morgan, but anxious to share
his booty. The vessel, which had also a
long-boat towing at its stern, had a short
time before attacked a Genoese ship, trading
with negroes, but which, mounting forty-eight
cannon, had driven it off, and compelled the
captain to return home and refit. The crew
seemed unwilling to trust the English, and
would not listen to any terms. Morgan, who
had just been joined by a ship from New
England with thirty-six cannon, longed to
add the twenty-four iron guns and the twelve
brass ones of Le Cerf Volant to his collection.
In spite of his wish to unite the two nations,
and close the green and still rankling wound,
the temptation was rather too strong for him.
His guardian angel slept for a moment, and
when she awoke the English flag floated at
the Frenchman's peak.
The change happened thus: the French
captain having refused to join Morgan's expedition,
unless he drew up a peculiar charter
party opposed to all Buccaneer law, and
quarrelling about this, he swore ventre St.
Gris, he would return to Tortuga, reload his
cargo, and return to France.
The blow was to be struck now or never.
The English part of the St. Malo crew had
already deserted to Morgan. Some of these
men furnished him with an opportunity of
revenge. The merchant captain, unaccustomed
to the looseness of Buccaneer discipline,
had treated them as sailors, and not as
matelots and brothers. They told Morgan,
that being short of victual, he had lately
stopped an English vessel, and taken provisions
by force, paying the commander only
with bills of exchange, cashable at Jamaica,
and that he carried secretly a Spanish commission,
empowering him to plunder the
English. These charges, though full of malice,
had a specious appearance of truth.
The captain had indeed stopped an English
vessel, but had paid for all he had taken with
honest bills. He did also carry a Spanish
commission, having been driven to anchor at
the port of Baracoa, on the north-east side
of Cuba, where he had obtained letters of
marque from the governor, in order to conceal
his real errand. Morgan considered this a
sufficient pretext, and sounded his crew to
ascertain how far they would help him at the
moment of need. It was at this very moment
of indecision that the New England
vessel joined the fleet, and enabled him to
bear down any opposition. This ship, which
Œxmelin calls the Haktswort (Oxford?)
carried a crew of 300 men. It was said to
belong to the king of England (Charles
II.), and to have been lent by him to the
present captain.
[A strange, improbable story, unless the
English government had really determined to
encourage the Buccaneer movement. The
Haktswort was really sent by the governor
of Jamaica to join the expedition.]
With this timely succour Morgan's mind
was instantly made up. He asked the St.
Malo captain and all his officers to dinner, on
board the newly-arrived vessel, and there
made them prisoners, without any resistance,
away from their crew, and with their ship exposed
to an overwhelming fire. He then affected
the anger of indignant justice, declared
they were robbers, who plundered the English
under a commission from the enemy,
and came there as mere spies and traitors.
Fortunately for him, the English vessel that
had been stopped by the St. Malo crew arrived
at the very moment to repeat and exaggerate
the charge. The ship was now his
own, and only God could take it from him.
And "God did so," says Esquemeling, who
sees a judgment in all misfortunes that befal
an enemy, but none in those that befal his
friends.
Morgan, victorious and exulting, called a
council of war, and summoned all his captains
to attend him on board his large prize. They
praised the vessel, laughed at the tricked
Frenchmen, and discussed their plans. They
calculated what provisions they had in store,
and of what their force was capable. The
island of Savona was agreed upon as a rendezvous,
as at that east corner of Hispaniola
they might lurk and cut off stragglers from
the armed Spanish flota, now daily expected.
Having completed their arrangements they
gave way to pleasure, the real occupation
and business of a Buccaneer's life, his toil
being only expended to procure the means
for pleasure, and time to enjoy it. They
began to feast and drink healths, the officers
below and the sailors on deck. Prayers for
a successful voyage were blended with drunken
songs, and unintelligible blasphemies. The
captain and the cook were both drunk, the
very gunners who discharged a broadside
when the toasts were drained, fell senseless
beside their smoking guns. Those who could
not move slept, those who could walk drank
on. By some accident, a spark from a smoking
match caught the powder, and in an instant
the vessel blew up. In perfect equality
all ranks were lifted up towards heaven, in
a column of flame, only to fall back again to
perish, burnt and helpless, in the sea. More
than 350 of the 400 men that formed the
crew were drowned. By a singular coincidence,
the officers nearly all escaped. The
English having their powder stored in the
fore part of the vessel, and not in the stern
like the French, the sailors only perished;
the officers and the St. Malo prisoners who
were drinking with them were merely blown,
much bruised, into the water. The English
adventurers, declaring that the French had
set fire to the powder, would have killed
them on the spot, but Morgan, not apparently
the least chapfallen by the disappointment,
sent them all as prisoners to Jamaica. The
thirty men, seated in the great cabin at
some distance from the main force of the
powder, escaped, and many more would have
been saved had they been sober.
The French prisoners in vain endeavoured
to obtain justice in Jamaica, were long detained
in confinement, and threatened with
death when they demanded a trial. Had
Morgan returned unsuccessful they might
have perhaps been listened to.
Eight days after this loss Morgan commanded
his men to collect the floating bodies
now putrifying, not to give them Christian
burial, but to save the clothes, and to remove
the heavy gold rings which the English Buccaneers
wore upon their forefingers, abandoning
their unsaleable bodies to the birds and
to the sharks.
Undaunted by this accident, Morgan
found he had still a force of fifteen vessels,
and 860 men, but his gun ship, the largest of
all, only carried fourteen small guns. They
now made way to Savona, where all were to
repair and careen, and the swift to wait for
the slow. Letters were soon placed in
bottles, and buried at a spot indicated by a
mark agreed on. Coasting Hispaniola, they
were detained by contrary winds, and attempted
for three weeks in vain to double
Cape Lobos. Their provisions ran short, but
they were relieved by an English vessel,
bound to Jamaica, which had a superfluity
for sale.
Always seeking for pleasure, though in
emergencies capable of the severest self-denials,
six or seven of the fleet remained
clustering round this vessel to purchase
brandy, as eager and thoughtless as stragglers
round a vivandière. The more thoughtful
and earnest pressed on with Morgan, and,
reaching the bay of Ocoa, waited for them
there, the men spending their time usefully,
as they had agreed before, in hunting, and
foraging for water and provisions, killing some
oxen and a few horses. Detained here by
continued bad weather, Morgan maintained
strict discipline, compelling every captain to
send, daily, on shore eight men from each
ship, making a total force of sixty-four. He
also instituted a convoy, or a body of armed
men, who attended the hunters as a guard,
for they were now near St. Domingo, which
was full of Greek soldiers and Spanish matadors.
The Spaniards, few in number, did
not attack them, but, adopting a Fabian
policy, which suited their pride and phlegm,
sent for 300 or 400 men to kill all the cattle
round the bay. Another party drove all the
herds far into the interior, wishing to starve
the foe out of the island, knowing that a
Buccaneer, pressed by hunger, did not care
whether he ate horse, mule, or ass, falling
back upon monkeys and parrots, and resorting
to sharks' flesh or his own shoes as a
last resource. But when the Buccaneers
spread further inland, a body of soldiers was
despatched to the coast, to practise a stratagem,
and to form an ambuscade.
The following was their plan, which completely
succeeded, but nevertheless ended in
the Spaniards' total rout. A band of fifty
Buccaneers having resolved to venture further
than usual into the woods, a party of
Spanish muleteers were ordered to drive the
bait, a small herd of cattle, past the shore,
where they had landed, pretending to fly
when they caught sight of their enemies.
When they approached the ambuscade two
Spaniards were sent out, carrying a white
flag of truce. The Buccaneers, ceasing the
pursuit, pushed forward two men to parley.
The treacherous Spaniards beseeched them
plaintively not to kill their cows, offering to
sell them cattle, or furnish them with food.
The Buccaneers, with all the good faith of
seamen, replied that they would give a
crown and a-half for each ox, and that the
seller could make his own profit besides
on the hide and the tallow. During this
time, which was planned to give time for the
operation, the Spanish troops were turning
the flank of the enemy, and had now surrounded
the small band on all sides. They
interrupted the conversation by breaking out
of the wood, with shots and cries of "Mata,
mata"—"kill, kill," imagining they could cut
to pieces so small a force without a struggle.
The Buccaneers, differing from them in
opinion, faced about with good heart, threw
themselves into a square, and beat a slow
retreat to the forest, keeping up a rolling fire
from all four sides of their brave phalanx.
The Spaniards, considering the retreat a
sure proof of despair and fear, attacked them
with great courage, but great loss. The
Buccaneers losing no men, while the Spaniards
fell thick and fast, cried out, in imprudent
bravado, that they were only trying to frighten
them, and put no balls in their muskets.
This jest cost them dear, for the Spaniards
had been only aiming high, wishing to kill
them on the spot and to make no prisoners.
They now tried to maim as well as kill, and
soon wounded so many in the legs that the
Buccaneers were obliged to retreat to a
clump of trees, where they stood at bay, and
from whence the Spaniards did not dare to beat
them. They then began to prepare to carry off
their dead and wounded to the vessels, but
seeing a small party of Spaniards piercing
one of the bodies with their swords, they
fired upon them, charged them, and drove
them off, tracking their way by their dead,
and then retreated, killing the cattle and
bearing them off in sorrowful triumph to their
vessels. The very next day, at the first
light, Morgan, furious to revenge this
treachery of the Spaniards, landed himself at
the head of 200 men, and entered the woods,
visiting the scene of the last night's skirmish.
But the Spaniards had long since fled, discovering
that in driving cattle towards the
shore as a lure for the Buccaneer, they only
brought destruction upon themselves, and a
dangerous enemy nearer to their homes and
treasures. Morgan, finding his search useless,
returned to his ship, having first burned
down all the deserted huts he could find:
"Returning," says Esquemeling, "somewhat
more satisfied in his mind for having done
considerable damage to the enemy, which
was always his ardent desire."
The day after, deciding not to venture an
attack upon Bourg d'Asso, Morgan, impatient
at the delay of his vessels, resolved
to sail without them, and visit Savona,
hoping there to meet his lingering companions.
Alarming the people of St. Domingo,
he coasted round Hispaniola. He
determined to wait eight days at Savona, and,
weary of rest, still wanting provisions, he
sent some boats and 150 men to plunder the
towns round St. Domingo, but they, finding
the Spaniards vigilant and desperate, gave
up the enterprise as hopeless, and returned
empty-handed to endure the curses and sneers
of their commander. Morgan now held a
council of war, for provisions were very
scanty and time was going. The eight ships
did not arrive, and all agreed, with their
seven small vessels and their 300 men, some
place of importance might still be taken.
Morgan had hitherto resolved to cruise about
the Caraccas and plunder the towns and
villages, mere hen-roost robbing and footpad
work, compared with the enterprise proposed
by one of his French captains amid great
applause.
This captain was Pierre le Picard, the
matelot of the famous Lolonnois when he took
Maracaibo: he it was who had steered the
vessels over the bar, and had served both as
pilot at sea and guide on land; he reefed
and fought, and could handle a rope as well
as a musket. He now proposed a second
attack upon the same place, and, with all the
rude eloquence of sincerity, proved the facility
of the attempt, and the riches that lay within
their reach. As he spoke good English that
could be understood by all, and was, moreover,
much esteemed by Morgan, the scheme
for a new campaign was at once rapturously
approved. He disclosed in the council all
the entries, passages, forces, and means. A
charter-party was drawn up, containing a
clause, that if the rest of the fleet joined
them before they had taken a fortress, they
should be allowed to share like the rest.
Having left a letter at Savona, buried in
the usual way, the Buccaneers set sail for
Curaçoa, stopping after some days' sail at
the island of Omba, to take in water and
provisions. This place was distant some
twelve leagues from Maracaibo. Here they
stayed twenty-four hours, buying goats of
the natives for hanks of thread and linen.
Sheep, lambs, and kids were the only products
of the island, which abounded with
spiders whose bite produced madness, unless
the sufferer was tied hands and feet, and left
without food for a night and a day. The
fleet set sail in the night, to prevent the
islanders discovering the object of their voyage.
The next morning they sighted the small
islands that lie at the entrance of the lake of
Maracaibo, anchoring out of sight of the
Vigilia, in hopes to escape notice, but were
observed by the sentries, whose signal gave
the Spaniards ample time for defence. The
fleet remained becalmed, unable to reach the
bar till four o'clock in the afternoon. The
canoes were instantly manned, in order to
take the Bar Fort, rebuilt since Picard's last
visit. Its guns played upon the boats as
they pulled to land. Morgan exhorted his
men to be brave and not to give way—for he
expected the Spaniards would defend themselves
desperately, seeing their fire was so
rolling and incessant that the fort seemed
like the crater of a small volcano, and
they could now see that the huts round the
wall had been burnt and removed, to leave
them no protection or shelter. "The dispute
continued very hot, being managed with
great courage from morning till dark night."
That latterly the fighting died away to occasional
shots is evident, for, at six o'clock when
it grew dusk, Morgan reconnoitred the fort, and
found it deserted. The cessation of the fire had
already roused their suspicions. Suspecting
treachery, Morgan searched the place to see if
any lighted fuses had been placed near the
powder, and a division was employed to enter
the place before the main body. There was
no lack of volunteers for this experimental
and cat's-paw work. Morgan himself clambered
up first. As they expected, they found
a lighted match, and a dark train of powder
communicating with the magazine. A little
later and the whole band had perished together.
Morgan himself snatched up the
match. This fort was a redoubt of five toises
high, six long, and three round. In the
magazine they found 3,000 pounds of gunpowder
that would have been wasted had the
place been blown up; fourteen pieces of
cannon, of eight, twelve, and fourteen pounds
calibre, and abundance of fire-pots, hand-grenades,
and carcases; twenty-four muskets
and thirty pikes and bandoliers had been left
by the runaways. The fort was only accessible
by an iron ladder, which could be drawn
up into the guard-room. But courage requires
no ladder, and, like love, can always
find out a way. When they had once
examined the place, the Buccaneers broke
down the parapet, spiked the cannon,
threw them over the walls, and burnt the
gun-carriages.
The Spaniards waited in vain for the roar
of their bursting mine. Their own city was
rocking beneath their feet; a more dreadful
visitation than the earthquake or the hurricane
was at their doors. At daybreak the
fleet sailed up the lake, the ruined fort
smoking behind them. Making great haste,
they arrived at Maracaibo the next day,
having first divided among themselves the
arms and ammunition of the fort. The water
being very low and the shoals numerous, they
disembarked into their boats, with a few
small cannon. From some cavaliers whom
they could see on the walls they believed
that the Spaniards were fortifying themselves.
The Buccaneers therefore landed at some
distance from the town, anchoring and disembarking
amid discharges of their own
cannon, intending to clear the thickets on
the shore. Their men they divided into two
divisions, in order to embarrass the enemy
by a double attack.
But these precautions were useless. The
timid people had already fled into the woods;
only the beggars, who feared no plunderers,
and the sick, who were praying for death,
remained in Maracaibo. The brave fled with
the coward, the monk with the sinner, the
thief from the thieves, the soldiers from
the seamen, the Catholic from the dreaded
Protestant, and the Spaniard from the enemies
of his name and race. The sick were
expecting death, and cared not if it came by
the hand of the doctor or the Buccaneer;
the beggar hoped to benefit by those who
could not covet, and might pity, their rags.
"A few miserable folk, who had nothing to
lose," says Esquemeling, "alone remained."
Crippled slaves, not worth removing, lay in
the streets; the dying groaned untended in
the hospital. Children fled from parents, and
parents from children; rich old age was left
to die in spite of all the inducements of
avarice. The prostitute fled to escape dishonour,
and the murderer to avoid bloodshed.
The houses were empty, the doors open,
the chambers stripped of every movable,
costly or precious. The first care of the
invaders was to search every corner for
prisoners, the next to secure, each party as
they arrived, the richest palaces for their
barracks. The palaces were their dens, the
churches their prisons; everything they defiled
and polluted, the loathsome things they
made still more horrible, the holy they in
some degree contaminated. At sea they
were brave, obedient, self-denying, religious
in formula (half the world goes no further),
determined, and irresistible; on land cruel,
bloody, rebellious, and ferocious. At sea
they exceeded most men in the practice of
the sterner virtues, on land they were demons
of wrath, devils of drunkenness and lust,
mercenaries and outlaws in their bearing and
their actions. The three former days of
terror had sapped the courage of the bravest,
and alarm and fear had, by a common panic,
induced the inhabitants to hide the merchandise
in the woods. The men who fled
had had fathers and children killed and tortured
in the first expedition. Friends, still
maimed by the rack, increased their fears by
their narrations. The Buccaneers seemed a
judgment from God, irresistible and unavertable.
The desire to defend riches seems to
be a weaker principle in the human mind
than the desire to obtain them. Great conquerors
have generally been poorer than the
nations they have conquered.
Scarcely any provisions remained in the
town. There was no vessel or boat in the
port, all had been removed into the wide lake
beyond. The small demilune fort, with its
four cannon, that was intended to guard the
harbour, was also deserted. The richer the
man, the further he had escaped inland; the
needy were in the woods, the drunken beggars
revelled alone in the town, rejoicing in an
event that at least made them rich: "It is an
ill wind that blows nobody good."
The very same day the Buccaneers despatched
a body of 100 men to search the woods
for refugees, any attempt to secrete treasure
being a heavy offence in the eyes of Morgan.
These men returned the next evening
with thirty prisoners, fifty mules, and several
horses laden with baggage and rich merchandise.
Both the male and female prisoners
seemed poor and worthless. They were immediately
tortured, in order to induce them
to disclose where their richer and more
virtuous fellow citizens were hidden. Morgan,
finding none to resist him, quartered his
men in the richest houses, selecting the
church as their central guard-house and
rallying point, their store-room for plunder,
their court of justice (blind and with false
weights), and their torture-chamber.
Some of the prisoners offered to act as
guides to places where they knew money and
jewels were hidden. As several places were
named, two parties went out the same night
upon this exciting search. The one party
returned on the morrow with much booty,
the other did not wander in for two days,
having been misled by a prisoner, who, in
the hopes of finding means to escape through
his knowledge of the country, had led them
into such dangerous and uninhabited places
that they had had a thousand difficulties in
avoiding. Furious at finding themselves
mocked by their guide, they hung him on a
tree without any parley. In returning they
came, however, suddenly upon some slaves
who were seeking for food by night, having
been hiding in the woods all day. Torture
was at once resorted to, to find out where
the masters lay, for slaves could not be there
alone. The braver of the two suffered the
most horrible pain without disclosing a syllable,
and was eventually cut to pieces without
confessing; the weaker, and perhaps
younger negro, endured his sufferings at first
with equal fortitude, although he was offered
liberty and reward if he would speak. But
when the seamen drew their sabres, still red
with the blood of his companion, and began
to hew and gash his brother's limbs that
still lay palpitating on the ground, his
courage fell, and he offered to lead them to
his master. The Spaniard was soon taken
with 30,000 crowns' worth of plate.
For eight days the men practised unheard-of
cruelties upon the wretched townsmen,
already starved and beggared, wretches whose
only crime had been their yielding to the
natural impulse of self-preservation. They
hung them up by their beards and by the
hair of their heads, by an arm or a leg; they
stretched their limbs tight with cords, and
then beat with rattans upon the rigid flesh;
they placed burning matches between their
fingers; they twisted cords about their heads,
tightening the strain by the leverage of their
pistol stocks, till the eyes sprang from the
sockets. The deathblow was never given
from pity, but as the climax and consummation
of suffering, and when the executioners
were weary of their cruelty. In vain the
tortured Spaniards screamed that the treasure
was all removed to Gibraltar, and that they
were not the rich citizens but very poor men,
monks and servants of Jesus, God help them!
Many died before the rack could be loosened.
Captain Picard, exulting in the success of
his expedition, was now very urgent in
pressing Morgan to advance on Gibraltar
before succours could arrive there from Merida,
believing that it would surrender as it
had done to Lolonnois. Morgan having in
his custody about 100 of the chief families of
Maracaibo, and all the accessible booty, embarked
eight days after his landing, and
proceeded to Gibraltar, hoping to rival Lolonnois
in every virtue. His prisoners and
plunder went with him, and he determined
to hazard a battle. Expecting an obstinate
defence, every Buccaneer made his will, consoling
himself by the thought of revelry at
Jamaica if he was one of those lucky enough
to escape. "Death," says Œxmelin, "was
never much mixed up in their thoughts,
especially when there was booty in view, for
if there were only some hopes of plunder they
would fight like lions." Before the fleet
started, two prisoners had been sent to
Gibraltar to warn the governor that Captain
Morgan would give him no quarter if he did
not surrender.
Picard, who remembered the former dangerous
spots, made his men land about a
quarter of a league from the town, and march
through the woods in hopes of taking the
Spaniards in the rear, in case they should be
again entrenched. The enemy received them
with quick discharges of cannon, but the
men cheered each other, saying, "We must
make a breakfast of these bitter things ere
we sup on the sweetmeats of Gibraltar."
They landed early in the morning, and
found no more difficulty than at Maracaibo.
The Spaniards, deceived by a stratagem, had
expected their approach by the road, and not
by the woods. They had no time to throw
up entrenchments, and only a few barricades,
planted with cannon, protected their flight.
They remembered Lolonnois; their hearts
became as water, and they fled as the Buccaneers
took peaceable possession of the town.
The Spaniards took with them their riches,
and all their ammunition, to use at some more
convenient period. Morgan, rejoicing in
the easy victory, posted his men at the
strong points of the town, while 100 men,
under Picard, went out to pursue and bring
in prisoners. They found the guns spiked,
and every house sacked by its owner, much
spoiled, much carried off, and the heavy and
the worthless alone left.
The only inhabitant remaining in the
town was a poor half-witted Spaniard, who
had not clearly ascertained what he ought to
do. He was so well dressed that they at
first took him, much to his delight, for a man
of rank, and asked him what had become of
all the people of Gibraltar. He replied, "they
had been gone a day, but he did not know
where; he had not asked, but he dare say
they would soon be back, and for his part
he, Pepé, did not care." When they inquired
where the sugar-mills were, he replied
that he had never seen any in his life. The
church money, he knew, was hid in the
sacristy of the great church. Taking them
there he showed them a large coffer, where he
pretended to have seen it hid. They opened
it and found it empty. To all other inquiries
he now answered, "I know nothing, I know
nothing." Some of the Buccaneers, angry
at the disappointment, and vexed at the
subtlety of the Spaniards, declared the fellow
was more knave than fool, and dragged him to
torture. They gave him first the strapado, till
he began to wish the people were returned;
they then hung him up for two hours with
heavy stones tied to his feet, till his arms
were dislocated. At last he cried out, "Do not
plague me any more, but come with me and
I will show you my goods and my riches."
He then led them to a miserable hovel, containing
only a few earthen pots and three
pieces of eight, wrapped in faded finery,
buried under the hearth. He then said his
name was Don Sebastian Sanchez, brother of
the governor of Maracaibo, that he was
worth more than 50,000 crowns, and that he
would write for it and give it up if they
would cease to hang and plague him so.
They then tortured him again, thinking he
was a grandee in disguise, till he offered, if
he was released, to show them a refinery.
They had not got a musket-shot from the hut
before he fell on his knees and gave himself
up as a criminal. "Jesu Maria!" he cried,
"what will you do with me, Englishmen? I
am a poor man who live on alms, and sleep in
the hospital." They then lit palm-leaves
and scorched him, and would have burnt off
all his clothes had he not been released by
one of the Buccaneers who now saw he was
an idiot. The poor fellow died in great
torment in about half-an-hour, and before he
grew cold was dragged into the woods and
buried.
The following day Picard brought in an
old peasant and his two daughters; the old
man, his crippled limbs having been tortured,
offered to serve as guide, and lead them to
some houses in the suburbs. Half blind and
frightened, he mistook his way, and the Buccaneers,
thinking the error intentional, made
a slave, who declared he had intentionally
misled them, hang him on a tree by the
road side.
Slavery here brought its own retribution,
for this same slave, burning to avenge some
ill treatment he had received, offered, on
being made free, to lead them to many of the
Spanish places of refuge. Before evening ten
or twelve families, with all their wealth, were
brought into Gibraltar. It had now become
difficult to track the fugitives, as fathers
refused even to trust their children; no one
slept twice in the same spot, for fear that
some one who knew of the retreat would be
captured, and then, under torture, betray the
spot, generally huts in the darkest recesses
of the woods, where their goods were stored
from the weather. These exiles were, however,
obliged to steal at night to their country houses
to obtain food, and then they were intercepted.
From some of these merchants Morgan
heard that a vessel of 100 tons, and three
barges laden with silver and merchandise
belonging to Maracaibo, now lay in the river;
about six leagues distant, and 100 men were
despatched to secure the prize.
In scouring the woods again with a body
of 200 human bloodhounds, Morgan surprised
a large body of Spaniards. Some of these he
forced the negro guide to kill before the eyes
of the others, in order to implicate him in
the eyes of the survivors. After eight days'
search the band returned with 250 prisoners,
and a long train of baggage mules, bound for
Merida. The prisoners were each separately
examined as to where the treasure was hid.
Those who would not confess, and even those
who had nothing to confess, were tortured to
death—burnt, maimed, or had their life
slowly crushed out of them.
Amongst the greatest sufferers in this
purgatory on earth was an old Portuguese of
venerable appearance, perhaps either a miser
or purposely disguised. This man the blood-thirsty
negro, now high in favour with the
Buccaneers, and trying to rival them in
cruelty, declared was very rich. The poor
old man, tearing his thin grey hair, swore by
the Virgin and all the saints that he had but
100 pieces of eight in the whole world, and
these had been stolen from him a few days
before, during the general chaos, by a runaway
slave. This he vowed on his knees
with tears and prayers, doubly vehement
when coming from one already on the grave's
brink. The cruel slave still looked sneeringly
on, and swore he was known to be the richest
merchant in all Gibraltar. The Buccaneers
then stretched the Portuguese with cords till
both his arms broke at the shoulder, and
then bound him by the hands and feet to the
four corners of a room, placing upon his loins
a stone, weighing five cwt., while four men,
laughing at his cries, kept the cords that
tied him in perpetual motion. This inhuman
punishment they called "swimming on land."
As he still refused to speak, they held fire
under him as he swung groaning, burnt
off his beard and moustaches, and then left
him hanging while they strapadoed another.
The next man they threw into a ditch, after
having pierced him with many sword thrusts,
for they seem to have been as insatiable for
variety of cruelty as they were for cruelty
itself. They left him for dead, but he
crawled home, and eventually recovered,
although several sword blades had passed
completely through his body.
As for the old Portuguese, his sufferings were
far from ended; putting him on a mule they
brought him into Gibraltar, and imprisoned
him in the church, binding him to a pillar
apart from the rest, supplying him with food
barely sufficient to enable him to endure his
tortures. Four or five days having passed, he
entreated that a certain fellow prisoner, whom
he named, might be brought to him. This
request being complied with, as the first
step to obtaining a ransom while he still
remained alive, he offered them, through
this agent, a sum of 500 pieces of eight.
But the Buccaneers laughed at so small a
sum, and fell upon him with clubs, crying
"500,000, old hunx, and not 500, or you
shall not live." After several more days of
continued suffering, during which he incessantly
protested that he was a poor man and
kept a small tavern, the miser confessed that
he had a store of 2000 pieces of eight, buried
in an earthen jar, and all these, bruised and
mutilated as he was and much as he loved
money, he gave for his liberty, and a few
days more of life.
Upon the other prisoners, without regard
to age, sex, or rank, they inflicted tortures
too disgusting and shocking to mention. Fear,
hatred, and avarice generated crimes, till the
prisoners grew as vile as their persecutors.
A slave, who had been cruelly treated by
his master, persuaded the Buccaneers to
torture him on the plea that he was very
rich, although he was in reality a man of no
wealth. The other prisoners, roused from
the selfishness of self-preservation by a thrill
of involuntary compassion, told Morgan that
the Spaniard was a poor man, and that the
slave had perjured himself to obtain revenge.
Morgan released the Spaniard directly, but
he had been already tortured. The slave
was given up to his master to be punished
by any sort of death he chose to inflict.
Handed over to the Buccaneers, he was
chopped to pieces in his master's presence,
still exulting in his revenge. "This," says
Œxmelin, with a cold naïveté, "satisfait
l'Espagnol, quoyqu'il fust fort mal traité, et
en danger d'estre estropié" (this satisfied the
Spaniard, though he had been very badly
treated, and almost lamed for life). Some of
the prisoners were crucified, others were burnt
with matches tied between their toes or
fingers, many had their feet forced into the
fires till they dropped from the leg black and
charred. All that the Indians had suffered
was now retaliated on the Spaniards. The
Buccaneers themselves considered the punishment
a vengeance of Providence. The only
mercy ever shown to a Spaniard was to end
his sufferings by death. The coup de grace
was a kindness when it ended the misery of
a groaning wretch, bruised and burnt, lying
in the hot sun, half mortified, or with his
body already paralyzed four or five days since.
The masters being all tortured, the slaves
next received the strapado. These men,
weaker in their moral nature and with no
motive for concealment but fear, told everything.
Many of the hiding-places were, however,
not known to them. One of them,
during the fever of his wound, declared he
knew where the governor of the town was
secreted, with many of the ladies of Gibraltar,
and a large portion of the treasure.
Threats of death revealed the rest, and he
confessed that a ship and four boats, laden
with Maracaibo wealth, lay in a river of the
lake. The Buccaneers were instantly on
their feet. Morgan, with 200 men and the
slave guide, set out to capture the governor;
and 100 others, in two large settees (boats),
sallied out to capture the treasure and the
ships. The governor was not easily caught,
for it needed a battalion of balloons to surprise
him. His first retreat was a fort thrown
up in the centre of a small island in the river,
two days' march distant. Hearing that
Morgan was coming in force, he retreated to
the top of an adjoining mountain, into which
there was but one ascent, so straight, narrow,
and perilous, that it could only be mounted
in single file.
The expedition altogether broke down,
the rock proved inaccessible to any but
eagles; a "huge rain" wetted their baggage
and ammunition; in fording a river
swollen by this "huge rain," many of their
female prisoners were lost, and, what they
valued more, several mules laden with plate
were whirled down the torrents. Many of
the women and children sank under the
fatigue, and some escaped. Involved in a
marshy country, up to their middles in water,
the Buccaneers had to toil on for miles. A
few lost their lives, others their arms (the
means of preserving them). A body of fifty
determined men, the Buccaneer historian
himself says, could have destroyed the whole
body. But the Spaniards were already so
paralyzed by fear that they fled at the very
rustle of a leaf. Twelve days were spent in
this dangerous and useless expedition. Two
days after them arrived their comrades, who
had been somewhat more successful. The
Spaniards had unloaded the vessels, and were
beginning to burn them when they arrived,
but many bales were left in the haste of
flight, and the boats, full of plunder, were
brought away in tow.
Morgan had now been lord in Gibraltar
for five whole weeks, practising all insolences
that a conqueror ever inflicts on the conquered;
revenging on them the sufferings of
the conquest, and trampling them under foot
for the very pleasure of destruction. Provisions
now failing, he resolved to depart; the
provisions of Gibraltar, except the fruits,
coming entirely from Maracaibo, were delayed
and intercepted. He first sent some
prisoners into the woods to collect a ransom
from the fugitives, under pain of again burning
down their newly rebuilt city. He
demanded 5,000 pieces of eight. They promised
to pay it in eight days, and gave four
of their richest citizens as hostages. The
governor, safe from all danger himself, had,
however, forbidden them to pay any ransom,
and they prayed Morgan to have patience.
Setting sail with his hostages he arrived
in three days at Maracaibo, afraid that, during
his long absence, the Spaniards had fortified
themselves, and he should have to fight his
way through the passes. Before his departure
he released all his prisoners who had
paid ransom, but detained the slaves. He
refused particularly to give up the treacherous
negro, because he knew they would
burn him alive.
The only inmate of all the rich palaces
and wide squares of Maracaibo, was a poor
sick man, who informed him (Morgan), to his
astonishment, that three Spanish men-of-war
had arrived at the bar, and had repaired and
garrisoned the fort. Their commander was
Don Alonso del Campo d'Espinosa, the vice-admiral
of the Indian fleet, who had been
despatched to those seas to protect the
Spanish colonists, and put to the sword
every adventurer he could meet. This news
did not alarm those who every day "set their
lives upon the hazard of a die," but it
enraged men who thought themselves secure
of their plunder, and which they now might
have to throw off to lighten them in their
retreat. Morgan instantly despatched his
swiftest vessel to reconnoitre the bar. The
men returned next day, assuring him that the
story was too true, and they were in very
imminent danger. They had approached so
near as to be in peril of the shot, the
biggest ship mounted forty guns, the next
thirty, and the smallest twenty, while Morgan's
flag-ship had only fourteen. They had
seen the flag of Castile waving on the redoubt.
There was no means of escape by
sea or land, and all were in despair at such
enemies so placed.
Morgan, undaunted and roused to new
courage by the extremity, grew more full of
audacity than ever. He at once sent a flag
of truce to the Magdalene, the Spanish admiral's
vessel, demanding 20,000 pieces of eight,
or he should set Maracaibo in flames. The
admiral, amused and astonished at such
temerity, wrote back to say, that hearing
that they had committed hostilities in the
dominions of his Catholic Majesty, his sovereign
lord and master, he had come to
dispute their passage out of the lake, from
that castle, which they had taken out of the
hands of a parcel of cowards, and he intended
to follow and pursue them everywhere, as
was his duty. The letter continued: "Notwithstanding
if you be contented to surrender
with humility all you have taken, together
with the slaves and other prisoners, I will let
you pass freely without trouble or molestation,
on condition that you retire home presently
to your own country. But if you make any
resistance or opposition to what I offer you, I
assure you I will command boats to come from
the Caraccas, wherein I will put my troops,
and, coming to Maracaibo, will put you every
man to the sword. This is my last and
absolute resolution; be prudent, therefore,
and do not abuse my bounty with ingratitude.
I have with me very good soldiers, who
desire nothing more ardently than to revenge
on you and your people all the cruelties and
base infamous actions you have committed
upon the Spanish nation in America."
This vapouring letter Morgan read aloud
to his men in the broad market-place at
Maracaibo, first in French and then in English,
begging their advice on the whole
matter—asking them whether they would
surrender everything for liberty, or fight for
both liberty and hard-won treasure. They all
answered unanimously, they did not care for
the Spanish brag, and they would rather fight
to the last drop of their blood than surrender
booty got with such peril. One of the men,
stepping forward, cried, "You take care of
the rest, I'll build a brûlot, and with twelve
men will burn the biggest of the three
Spaniards."
The scheme was adopted, but resolved
once more to try negotiation, now that he
was prepared for the worst, Morgan wrote
again to Don Alonso, offering to leave Maracaibo
uninjured, surrender all the prisoners,
half the slaves, and to give up the hostages.
The Don, trusting in his superior strength,
and believing Morgan fairly intimidated or
at least entirely in his mercy, refused to
listen to any terms but those he had proposed,
adding, that in two days he should come and
force him to yield. Morgan resolved upon
this to fight his way out and surrender
nothing, his men, though discouraged, being
still brave and desperate. All things were
put in order to fight. The Englishman of
Morgan's crew proceeded as fast as possible
with his brûlot, or fire-ship. He took the
small vessel captured in the Rivière des
Espines, and filled it full of palm-leaves dipped
in tar, and a mixture of brimstone and gunpowder.
He put several pounds of powder
under each of the ten sham guns, which
were formed of negro drums. The partitions
of the cabins were then broken down, so that
the flame might spread unimpeded. The
crew were wooden posts, dressed up with
swords, muskets, bandoliers, and hats or
montero caps. This fire-ship bore the English
colours, so that it might pass for Morgan's
vessel; and in eight days, by all hands
working upon it, it was ready. During the
preparation an extra guard was kept upon
the prisoners, for one escaping would have
destroyed all their hopes of safety. The
male prisoners were kept in one boat, and
the females, slaves, plate, and jewels in another.
In others, guarded by twelve men
each, came the merchandise. The brûlot was
to go first and grapple with the admiral's
ship.
All things being now completed, Morgan,
with a heart as gay as if he fought for God and
the right, made his men take the usual Buccaneer
oath, employed on all occasions of
pressing danger, when mutual confidence
was peculiarly necessary. They vowed to
fight till death, and neither to give nor take
quarter. He promised a reward to all who
distinguished themselves, exciting all the
strongest feelings of their nature—revenge,
avarice, and self-preservation.
With these desperate resolves, full of hope,
for they were accustomed to consider his
promises of victory as certain prophecies,
they set sail on the 30th day of April, 1669,
to seek the Spaniards.
They found the Spanish fleet riding at
anchor in the middle of the entry of the
lake, like gaolers of their spacious prison. It
being late and almost dark, Morgan gave
orders to anchor within range of the enemy,
determined to resist if attacked, but to wait
for light. They kept a strict watch, and at
daybreak lifted anchor and set sail, bearing
down straight upon the Spaniards, who,
seeing them move, advanced to meet them.
Poor fishing boats the Buccaneers' barks
seemed beneath those proud floating castles;
"but the race is not always to the swift, nor
the battle to the strong." The brûlot sailed
first, pushing on to the admiral's vessel,
which lay stately between its two companions,
and was suffered to approach within cannon
shot. The Spaniards believing that it was
Morgan's vessel, and intended to board them,
waited till it came closer to crush it with a
broadside. They little thought that they
were fighting with the elements. The fire-ship
fell upon the Spaniard and clung to its
sides, like a wild cat on an elephant. Too
late the Spaniard attempted to push her off,
but the flames had already leaped from their
lurking places; first the sails were swathed
in fire, then the tackling shrivelled up, and
soon the solid timbers burst into a blaze.
The stern was first consumed, and the fore
part sank hissing into the sea. The wretched
crew, flying from one element to the other,
perished, some by fire, some by water; the
half-drowning clung to the burning planks
and withered in the glare; the burning
sailors were sucked down by the vortex of
the sinking wreck. Don Alonso, seeing the
danger, called out to them in vain to cut down
the masts, and, throwing himself with difficulty
into his sloop, escaped to land. The sailors,
refusing quarter, were allowed to perish by
the Buccaneers' boats' crews, who at first
offered to save them. Perhaps the recollection
of their oath lessened their exertions.
The boats were pulling round the burning
vessel in hopes of saving plunder, and not of
saving lives. The second vessel was boarded
by the Buccaneers and taken, in the confusion,
almost without resistance. The third ship,
cutting its cables, drifted towards the fort,
and there ran ashore, the crew setting fire to
her to prevent capture. The Buccaneers,
proud of their victory, determined to push it
to extremities by landing and attempting to
storm the fort at the bar, without ladders,
and relying only on their hand grenades, but
their artillery was too small to make any
practicable breach. The fort they found well
supplied with men, cannon, and ammunition.
The garrison had not suffered personally by
the loss of a fleet manned by strangers,
and they repulsed all attacks. Unwilling to
retire, Morgan spent the whole of the day till
dusk in firing muskets at any defenders who
showed themselves above the walls, and at
dusk lit them up with a shower of fireballs,
but the Spaniards desperately resisted, and
shot so furiously at them as to drive them
back to the ships, with the loss of thirty
killed and as many wounded—more loss than
they had suffered in the capture of Maracaibo
and Gibraltar, while the fleet had been
destroyed without the loss of a single
man. The garrison, expecting a fresh
attack at daybreak, laboured all night
to strengthen their works, levelling the
ground towards the sea, and throwing up
entrenchments from spots that commanded
the castle.
The next day Morgan, not intending to
renew the attack, employed himself in saving
the Spanish sailors who were still floating on
charred pieces of the wreck; not rescuing
them from mercy, but in order to make them
help in recovering part of the sunk treasure.
They acknowledged that Don Alonso had
compelled them before the engagement, after
they had confessed to the chaplain, to come
and take an oath to give the enemy no
quarter, which was the reason many had
refused to be saved. The admiral's vessel,
the Magdalene, had carried thirty-eight guns
and twelve small brass pieces, and was
manned by 350 sailors; the second, the St.
Louis, had thirty-four guns and 200 men; and
the third, the Marquise, twenty-two guns
and 150 men. The Marquise derived its
name from the Marquis de Coquin, who had
fitted it out as a privateer. The Concepcion
and Nostra Signora de la Soledad, two larger
vessels, had been sent back to Spain from
Carthagena; a fourth, Nostra Signora del
Carmen (for the Spaniards generally drew
the names of their war vessels from the lady
of love and peace), had sunk near Campeachy.
The pilot of the smaller vessel being saved,
and promised his life, disclosed all Don
Alonso's plans. He had been sent, upon the
tidings of the loss of Porto Bello, by direction
of the supreme council of state, with orders
to root out the English pirates in those parts,
and to destroy as many as he could, for dismal
lamentations had been made to the court of
Spain, to the Catholic king, to whom belonged
the care and preservation of the New
World, of the damages and hostilities committed
by the English, and he had resolved
to punish these proceedings and avenge his
subjects. The king of England being complained
to, constantly replied that he never
gave any letters-patent to such men or such
ships. Sending home his more cumbrous
ships, the Don had heard at St. Domingo of
the fleet sailing from Jamaica, and a prisoner,
taken at Alta Grecia, disclosed Morgan's plan
on the Caraccas. On arriving there the wild
fire had already broken out at Maracaibo a
second time, and hither he came to extinguish
it. A negro slave had indeed
informed the admiral of the fire-ship, but
with short-sighted pride he derided the idea,
saying that the English had had neither wit,
tools, nor time to build it.
The pilot who made these disclosures was
rewarded by Morgan, and, yielding to his
promises, entered into his service. He informed
him, with the usual zeal of a deserter,
that there was plate to the value of 40,000
pieces of eight in the sunken ship, for he
had seen it brought on board in boats. The
divers eventually recovered 2000 pounds'
worth of it, some "in plate" and others in
piastres, that had melted into large lumps,
together with many silver hilts of swords and
other valuables.
Leaving a vessel to superintend this profitable
fishery, Morgan hurried back to Maracaibo,
and, fitting up his largest prize for
himself, gave his own ship to a companion.
He also sent to the governor, now somewhat
crest-fallen, to re-demand the ransom, threatening
more violently than before to burn
down the city in eight days if it was not
brought in. He also demanded, in addition,
500 cows as victual for his fleet. These were
brought in in the short space of two days,
with part of the money, and eleven more days
were spent in salting the meat and preparing
for sea. Then returning to the mouth of
the lake, he sent to Don Alonso to demand
a free passage, offering to send all
the prisoners on shore as soon as he had
once passed out, but otherwise to tie the
prisoners to the rigging, exposing them to
the shot of the fort, and then to kill and
throw overboard those who were not struck.
The prisoners also sent a petition, praying
the governor to spare their lives. But the
Don, quite undaunted, sternly answered to
the hostages, who besought him on their
knees to save them from the sword and rope,
"If you had been as loyal to your king
in hindering the entry of these pirates as I
shall be in hindering their going out, you
had never caused these troubles, either to
yourselves or to our whole nation, which
hath suffered so much through your pusillanimity.
I shall not grant your request, but
shall endeavour to maintain that respect
which is due to my king, according to my
duty."
When the terrified messengers returned
and told Morgan, he replied, "If Alonso will
not let me pass, I will find out a way without
him," resolving to use either force or
stratagem, and perhaps both.
Fearing that a storm might separate his fleet,
or that some might not succeed in escaping,
Morgan divided the booty before he attempted
to pass the bar. Having all taken
the usual oath, he found they had collected
250,000 pieces of eight, including money
and jewels, and in addition a vast bulk of
merchandise and many slaves. Eight days
were spent in this division, which took place
within sight of the exasperated garrison in
the fort.
The following stratagem was then resorted
to. Knowing that the Spaniards were expecting
a final and desperate attack on the day
before their departure, the Buccaneers made
great show of preparing to land and attack
the fort. Part of each ship's crew embarked
with their colours in their canoes,
which were instantly rowed to shore. Here
the men, concealed by the boughs on the
banks, lay down flat in their boats, and were
rowed back again to their vessels by only
two or three sailors. This feigned landing
they repeated several times in the day. The
Spaniards, certain of an escalade, at night
brought down the great eighteen pound ship
guns of the fort to the side of the island
looking towards the land, and left the sea-shore
almost defenceless. When night came
Morgan weighed anchor, and, by moonlight
setting sail, at the commencement of the ebb
tide, dropped gently down the river, till the
vessels were almost alongside of the castle.
Then spreading sails, quick as magic, he
drove past, firmly but warily. Every precaution
was taken. The crew were couched
flat on the poop, and some placed below to
plug the shot-holes as they came. The
Spaniards, astonished at their daring, and
enraged at their escape, ran with all speed
and shifted their battery, firing hastily,
furiously, and with little certainty; but by
this time, a favourable wind springing up,
the Buccaneers were almost out of reach, few
men were killed, and little damage done.
In this manner escaped Morgan from the
clutches of Don Alonso, who had thought himself
sure of his prey. The baffled rage of the
Spaniards and the wild joy of the Buccaneers,
their clamorous approval of Morgan's skill,
the exultation of their triumph, and the
prisoners' dismay, may be easily imagined.
Generous in success, Morgan, once out of
range of the guns that thundered in pursuit,
sent a canoe on shore with his prisoners from
Maracaibo, but those of Gibraltar he carried off,
as they had not yet paid their ransom. The
joy of one and the grief of the other, their
parting and the tears, were painful to witness.
As he set sail, and the fort was still looming
to the right, Morgan discharged a farewell
salute of eight guns, to which the chapfallen
Spaniards had not the heart to return even a
single musket shot.
But out of Scylla into Charybdis was a
Buccaneer's fate: one danger was succeeded
by another, hope by hope, despair by despair.
The very day of their escape the judgment
of Heaven seemed to overtake the sea rovers,
as if to warn them that no stratagems could
defeat God. The fleet was surprised by such
a tempest that they were compelled to anchor
in five or six fathom water. The storm
increased, they were obliged to weigh
again, and at any risk keep off the land.
Their only choice seemed to be death by the
Spaniard, the Indian, or the wave—all equally
hostile and deaf to mercy.
Œxmelin says he was on board the least
seaworthy vessel of the whole fleet, that,
having lost anchors and mainsail, they had
great difficulty in keeping afloat, and were
obliged to bale as well as work night and
day at the pumps, amid deafening thunder
and mountainous seas that threatened to
drown them even while the vessel still floated.
The ship, but for the ropes that held it together,
would have instantly sunk. The
lightning and the wave disputed for their
prey, but the rude arbiter, the wind, came
in and snatched them from these destroyers.
"Indeed," says Œxmelin, "though worn
out with fatigue and toil, we could not make
up our minds to close our eyes on that blessed
light which we might so soon lose sight of
for ever, for no hope of safety now remained.
The storm had lasted four days, and there
was no probability of its termination. On
one side we saw rocks on which our vessel
threatened every instant to drive, on the
other were Indians who would no more
have spared us than the Spaniards who were
behind us; and by some evil fortune the
wind drove us ceaselessly towards the rocks
and the Indians, and away from the place
whither we desired to go."
In the midst of these distresses, six armed
vessels gave them chase through the storm
when they were near the bay of Venezuela.
They turned out to be vessels of the Count
d'Estreés, the French admiral, who generously
rendered them aid, and the wind
abating enabled them to reach the shore.
Morgan and some others made for Jamaica,
and the French for St. Domingo,—the
Spaniards at the fort probably believing
they had perished in the gale.
The laggers of Morgan's fleet, who had
never joined him, were less fortunate than
the admiral they deserted. 400 in number,
they landed at Savona, but could not find
the buried letter. They determined to attack
the town of Comana, on the Caraccas,
choosing Captain Hansel, who had distinguished
himself at Porto Bello, as their
commander. This town was distant sixty
leagues from Trinidad. On landing they
killed a few Indians who awaited them on
the beach, but the Spaniards, disputing
briskly the entry of the town, drove them
back at last to their ships with great loss
and confusion. On returning to Jamaica
they were jeered at by Morgan's men, who
used to say, "Let us see what sort of money
you brought from Comana, and if it be as
good as that which we won at Maracaibo."
Morgan, encouraged by success, soon determined
on fresh enterprises. On arriving
at Jamaica, "he found many of his officers
and soldiers already reduced to their former
indigency by their vices and debaucheries.
Hence they perpetually importuned him for
new exploits, thereby to get something to
expend still in wine and strumpets, as they
had already done what they got before.
Captain Morgan, willing to follow fortune's
call, stopped the mouths of many inhabitants
of Jamaica who were creditors to his men
for large sums, with the hopes and promises
of greater achievements than ever in a new
expedition. This done, he could easily levy
men for any enterprise, his name being so
famous through all these islands, as that
alone would readily bring him in more men
than he could well employ."
Affecting a mystery, attractive in itself,
and necessary where Spanish spies might be
present, Morgan appointed a rendezvous at
Port Couillon, on the south side of Hispaniola,
and made known his intentions to the English
and French adventurers, whether in
Tortuga or St. Domingo. He wrote letters
to all the planters and old Buccaneers in
Hispaniola, and desired their attendance at
a common council. At many a hunting
fire this announcement was read, and many
an engagé's heart beat high at the news, for
Morgan was now the champion and hero of
the Buccaneers of America. Great numbers
flocked to the port in ships and canoes,
others traversed the woods and arrived there
by land, through a thousand dangers. Such
crowds came that it soon became difficult
to obtain a place in the crews. Vessels and
provisions were now all that was wanted.
Plunder was certain, and they had but to
choose on what rich coast they should land.
The French adventurers, ever gay and ready,
were first in the field. Morgan himself,
punctual and prompt, followed in the Flying
Stag, the St. Malo vessel we have before
mentioned, carrying forty-two guns. The
vessel had been lately confiscated and sold by
the governor of Jamaica, the unfortunate
captain escaping with his life, happy in being
free although penniless.
At the rendezvous on the 24th day of
October, 1670, 1600 men were present, and
twenty-four vessels assembled at the muster,
amid shouting, gun firing, flag waving,
and great joy and hope. Morgan's proposition
was to attack some rich place which was
well defended—the more danger the more
booty, for it was only rich places that the
Spaniards cared to defend. Several previous
expeditions had failed from want of provisions,
and the necessity of attacking small places to
obtain food gave the alarm to the Spaniards
and frustrated their plans. They therefore
resolved to visit La Rancheria, a small place on
the banks of the River de la Hache, on the
mainland, with four vessels and 400 men.
This was a place where corn and maize were
brought by the farmers for the supply of the
neighbouring city of Carthagena, and they
hoped to capture in the port some pearl
vessels from that place.
In the meanwhile, Morgan, not caring for
lesser prey, employed his men in careening,
cleaning, rigging, and pitching their vessels
ready for sea, that all might be ready to
weigh anchor the moment the expedition of
foragers returned. It augured terribly to
the Spaniard that it was necessary to sack a
town or two before the Buccaneer fleet could
even set sail.
Part of the men were in the woods boar-hunting,
and others salting the flesh for the
voyage. Each crew had a certain part of the
woods allotted it for its own district, so
perfect was Morgan's discipline. Each party
prepared the salt pork for its own use, while
the cauldrons of pitch were smoking on the
beach, and the clank of the shipwrights'
hammers could be heard all night by the
hunters. The English, who were not so
expert in hunting as their Gallic brethren
(so says a French writer), generally took a
French hunter with them, to whom they
gave 150 or 200 piastres. Some of these
men had trained packs of dogs that would kill
enough boars in a day to load twenty or
thirty men.
The Rancheria expedition arrived in six
days within sight of the river, and was
unfortunately becalmed for some time within
a gunshot of land. This gave the Spaniards
time to prepare for their defence, and either
to bury their goods or throw up entrenchments,
for these repeated visits of the Buccaneers
had rendered them quick on such
occasions. A land-wind at last springing up,
gave a corn vessel from Carthagena, lying in
the river, an opportunity to sally out and
attempt its escape, but being a bad sailer it
was soon captured, much to the Englishmen's
delight, for corn was the object of their visit.
By a singular coincidence, it turned out to
be that very cocoa vessel which Lolonnois
sold to the governor of Tortuga, who, on its
return from France, had sold it to Captain
Champaigne, a French adventurer, who in
his turn sold it to the same merchant captain
who then commanded it. He told the Buccaneers
that it made the twelfth vessel taken
from him by the brotherhood of the coast in
five years only, and yet that with all these
losses he had contrived to make a fortune of
500,000 crowns. "On peut juger par là,"
says Œxmelin, with a shrug, "s'il y a des
gens riches dans l'Amérique."
Landing at daybreak, in spite of the
mowing fire from a battery, and under protection
of their own cannon, they drove the
Spaniards back to their strongly fortified
village, which they at once attacked. Here
the enemy rallied and fought desperately,
hand-to-hand, sword blow and push of pike,
from ten in the morning till night, when
they fled, having suffered great loss, into
secret places in the woods. The Buccaneers,
who had suffered scarcely less loss, pushed
on at once headlong to the town, which they
found deserted; and next day pursuing the
Spaniards took many prisoners, and proceeded
to torture them, inflicting on fear and innocence
all the horrors of the Madrid inquisition.
In fifteen days they captured many prisoners
and much booty, and with the usual threats
of destroying the town, they obtained 4000
hanegs, or bushels of maize, sufficient for the
whole of the fleet. They preferred this to
money, and in three days, the whole quantity
being brought in by the people, eager for
their departure, they at once sailed.
Morgan, alarmed at their five weeks' absence,
had begun to despair of their return,
thinking Rancheria must have been relieved
from Carthagena or Santa Maria. He also
thought that they might have had good
fortune, and deserted him to return to Jamaica.
His joy was great to see them arrive laden
with corn, and more in number than when
they departed. A council of war was actually
holding to plan a new expedition, when
Captain Bradley and his six vessels hove in
sight. The maize was divided among the
fleet, but the plunder was awarded to the
captain who had risked his life for the general
good.
The captured ship arrived very opportunely,
and it was instantly awarded by
general consent to Le Gascon, a French
adventurer who had lately lost his vessel.
Morgan having divided the meat and corn,
and personally inspected every bark, set sail
for Cape Tiburon, at the west end of Hispaniola,
a spot convenient for laying in stores
of wood and water. Here he was joined by
several ships from New England, refitted at
Jamaica. Morgan now found himself suzerain
of a fleet of thirty-seven vessels, large
and small, carrying sixteen, fourteen, twelve,
ten, even down to four pound guns. To
man these there were 2200 sailors, well
armed and ready for flight and plunder. The
fleet was divided into two squadrons, under
his vice-admiral and subordinate officers.
To the captains he gave letters-patent,
guaranteeing them from all the effects of
Spanish hostility, from "the open and declared
enemies of the King his master," (Charles II.)
The charter-party which we give elsewhere
was then signed, the rewards were
higher than usual, and many modifications
introduced. In the private council three places
were proposed as rich and accessible—Panama,
Carthagena, and Vera Cruz. In these
consultations the only thing considered was
whether a town was rich or poor, not whether
it was well or ill defended.
"The lot fell" on Panama, as the richest
of the three, though the least known to them,
being further from the North Pacific than
any Buccaneer had yet gone. Panama was
the galleon-port and the El Dorado of the
adventurer's yarns. Being so unknown a
place they determined to first recapture St.
Catherine's, where in the prisons they might
obtain many guides, who had seen both the
North and South Pacifics, for outlaws made,
they found, the best guides for outlaws; and
they agreed before sailing that, if they took
a Spanish vessel, the first captain who
boarded it should have for his reward a tenth
part of her cargo.
They had begun by sacking a town to
victual their fleet, they now proposed to
storm a fort to obtain a guide—St. Catherine's
batteries, if resolutely manned, being able to
beat off three such fleets.
The admiral, it was agreed, should have a
share for every hundred men, and every
captain eight shares if the vessel they took
was large. The crews then one by one took
the oath of fidelity. On the 18th December,
1670, the fleet set sail for St. Catherine's,
whose prisoners would rejoice at their arrival.
The one squadron carried the royal English
and the other a white flag. The admiral's
division bore a red banner with a white cross,
"le pavillon du parlement," and at the bow-sprit
one of three colours, blue, white, and
red. Those of the other divisions carried a
white and red flag. Morgan also appointed
peculiar signals for all emergencies.
On their way to St. Catherine's they chased
two Dutch vessels from Cuba, which escaped
by aid of contrary winds that baffled their
pursuers. In four days the fleet arrived at
St. Catherine's, and Morgan despatched two
small vessels to guard the port.
This island was renowned for its vast flocks
of migratory pigeons, and is watered by four
streams, two of which are dry in summer.
The land, though fertile, was not cultivated.
The next day, before sunrise, they anchored
in the bay of Aguada Grande, where
the Spaniards had erected a four-gun battery.
Morgan, at the head of 100 men, landed and
made his way through the woods, having no
guides but some old Buccaneers who had
been there before with Mansvelt. On arriving
that night at the governor's house and
the Platform Battery they found the Spaniards
had retreated by a bridge into the smaller
and almost impregnable island, which they
had made strong enough to beat off 10,000
men. Being driven back at first by a tremendous
fire, Morgan was obliged to encamp
that night in the woods or open country—no
hardship to hunters or sailors in fine weather.
There still remained a whole league of dense
brush between them and their enemies, at once
their protection and destruction. A chilling
torrent of rain began to beat upon them, and
instead of ceasing, as they had hoped, lasted
till noon of the next day. They pulled
down two or three thatched huts, and made
small damp fires, that scorched a few but
warmed none. They could not shelter
themselves, and, what was worse, could not
keep their arms and powder dry. But more
than this, they suffered from hunger, having
had no food for a whole day. The men for
the greater part being dressed with no clothes
but a seaman's shirt and trowsers, and without
shoes or stockings, suffered dreadfully
after the burning of a tropic noon from this
freezing cold and rain. One hundred men,
says Esquemeling, even indifferently well
armed, might have cut them all to pieces.
At daybreak they were roused from their
shivering sleep by the Spanish drums beating
the Diane, or reveillé. The rain had now
ceased, and their courage rose as high as
ever. But they could not answer this
challenge, for their own drums were loose
and soaked with wet, and they had now to
employ themselves in quickly drying their
arms. Scarcely had they done this, when it
began to cloud over and rain with increased
fury, as if the "sky were melting into
waters," which blinded them and prevented
them again from advancing to the attack.
Many of them grew faint-hearted, and talked
of returning. The men were now feeble for
want of sleep, and faint with cold and hunger.
The eager foragers found in a field "an old
horse, lean, and full of scabs and blotches, with
galled back and sides." This was instantly
killed and flayed, and divided in small pieces
among as many as could get any, and eagerly
eaten without salt or bread by the few lucky
epicures—"eaten," says the historian, "more
like ravenous wolves eat than men."
The rain still gushing down, and the men,
worn out in mind and body, growing angry, discontented,
and clamorous, it became necessary
for Morgan to act with promptitude. About
noon, to his great joy, the rain ceased and
the sun broke out. Taking advantage of
this lull—for the rain had barred even their
retreat—Morgan ordered a canoe to be rigged
out in great haste, and dispatched four men
with a white flag to the Spanish governor,
declaring that if they did not all surrender
he would put them to the sword without
quarter. His audacity was luckily crowned
with success. Opposed armies are often men
mutually afraid, trying to frighten each other.
The governor was intimidated. He demanded
two hours to confer with his officers. At
the end of this time, on Morgan giving
hostages, two soldiers with white flags were
sent to arrange terms. The governor had
decided in full conference that he could not
defend the island against such an armada, but
he proposed a certain (Dalgetty-like) stratagem
of war to save his own head, and preserve
the reputation of his officers at home
and abroad.
Morgan was to come at night and assault
the fort of St. Jerome, which stood near the
bridge that joined the two islands, and at the
same moment his fleet was to attack the castle
of Santa Teresa by sea, and land troops
near the battery of St. Matthew. These
men were to intercept and take prisoner
the governor as he made his way to the St.
Jerome batteries. He would then at once
lead them to the castle, as if they were his
own men. On both sides there was to be
continual firing, but only with powder, and
no bullets. The forts thus taken, the island
would of course surrender.
This well-arranged performance took place
with great éclat. Morgan, in acceding to the
terms, had insisted on their strict performance
of every item, and gave notice, for fear
of ambush, that every straggling Spaniard
would be shot. Afraid of a stratagem, some
Buccaneers loaded their muskets with ball,
and held themselves ready for any danger.
With much smoke and great consumption of
powder, the unsuspecting Spaniards were
driven like sheep into the church, the island
surrendered, and by this bloodless artifice
Spanish pride remained unhurt.
But a cruel massacre now commenced.
The Buccaneers had eaten nothing for nearly
two days. They made war upon all the
poultry and cattle—the oldest cow was slain,
the toughest rooster strangled. For several
days the island was lit up with huge fires,
round which the men roasted their meat, and
revelled and caroused. When wood grew
scarce they pulled down cottages to light
their fires, and having no wine very wisely
made use of water.
The day after the surrender they numbered
their prisoners, and found they had
collected 450 souls—seventy of the garrison,
forty-three children, and thirty-one slaves.
The men were all carefully disarmed, and
sent to the plantations to bring in provisions;
the women were left in the church to pray
and weep. They next inspected all the ten
batteries, wondering in their strength and
exulting in their victory. The fort St.
Jerome contained eight great guns and sixty
muskets; the St. Matthew three guns; the
Santa Teresa twenty guns and 120 muskets.
The castle was very strong, and moated;
impregnable on the sea side, and on the land
side ascended by a narrow mountain path,
while the guns on its summit commanded the
port. The St. Augustine fort mounted three
guns; the Platform two; the St. Salvador
and another also two; the Santa Cruz three;
and the St. Joseph six and twelve muskets.
In the magazine they found 30,000 pounds
of powder, which they at once shipped, with
all the other ammunition. In the St. Jerome
battery Morgan left a guard, but in all the
other forts the guns were spiked and the gun-carriages
burnt.
The object of his visit was still to seek.
Examining the prisoners, who were now
crowded in with merchants and grandees, he
inquired for banditti from Panama, and three
slaves stepped forward who knew every path
and avenue to the city. These men he chose as
guides, promising them a full Buccaneer's share
of the spoil if they brought him by a secure
way to the city, and, in addition, their liberty
when they reached Jamaica. These volunteers
consisted of two Indians and a mulatto.
The former denied all knowledge of the place;
the latter—a "rogue, thief, and assassin, who
had deserved breaking on the wheel rather
than mere garrison service"—readily accepted
Morgan's propositions, and promised to serve
him faithfully. He had a great ascendancy
over the two Indians, and domineered over
them as he pleased, without their daring to
disobey a half-blood already on the point
of preferment.
The next step to Panama was to capture
Chagres and its castle, and Morgan at once
dispatched five vessels, well equipped, with
400 men on board, to undertake this expedition,
remaining himself at St. Catherine's, lest
the people of Panama should be alarmed. He
was to follow his van-guard in eight days,
guided by the Indians, who knew Chagres.
This time he and his men prudently spent
in pulling manioc roots for cassava, and
digging potatoes for the voyage.
The Chagres expedition was led by the
same Captain Bradley who commanded at
Rancheria. He had been with Mansvelt
formerly, and had rendered himself famous
by his exploits both among the Buccaneers
and the Spaniards. He arrived in three
days at Chagres, opposite Fort St. Lawrence,
which was built on a mountain commanding
the entrance of the river. As soon as the
Spaniards saw the red flag spreading from his
vessels, they displayed the royal colours of
Spain, and saluted him with a volley too
hasty and angry to be very destructive. The
Buccaneers, according to their usual stratagem,
landed at Narangui, a place a quarter
of a league distant from the castle, their
guide leading them through thick woods,
through which they had to cut a path with
their sabres. It was early morning when they
landed, and requiring half a day to perform
the short distance, they did not reach a hill
commanding the castle till two o'clock. The
mire and dirt of the road combined, with the
darkness of the way, to lengthen their march.
The guides served them well, but brought
them at one spot so near to the castle, and
in so open and bare a place, that they lost
many men by the shot. In other parts the
wood was so thick that they could only tell
that they were near the castle by the discharge
of the cannon. The hill they had now
reached was not within musket range, and
they were thus deprived of the use of their
favourite weapon. Could they have dragged
cannon so far they might have taken the place
without losing a man.
The castle of Chagres was built on a high
mountain at the entry of a river, and surrounded
by strong wooden palisadoes banked
with earth. The top of the mountain was
divided into two parts, between which ran a
ditch thirty feet deep; the tower had but one
entrance by a drawbridge, towards the land
it had four bastions, and towards the sea two
more. The south wall was inaccessible crag,
the north was moated by the broad river.
At the foot of the hill lay a strong fort with
eight guns, which commanded the river's
mouth; a little lower down were two other
batteries, each of six guns, all pointing the
same way. At another side were two great
store-houses, full of goods, brought from the
inland, and near these a flight of steps, cut
in the rock, led to the castle of the summit.
On the west side was a small port not more
than seven or eight fathoms deep, with good
anchorage for small vessels, and before the
hill a great rock rose from the waves, which
almost covered it at low water.
The place appeared such a perfect volcano
of fire, and so threatening and dangerous,
that the Buccaneers, but for fear of Morgan's
rage and contempt, would have at once turned
back. After many disputes and much doubt
and perplexity, they resolved to hazard the
assault and risk their lives. When they
descended from their hill into the plain, they
had to throw themselves on their faces to
escape the desolating shower of balls; but
their marksmen, quite uncovered and without
defence, shot at the Spanish gunners through
the loops of the palisading, and killed all
who showed themselves. This skirmishing
continued till the evening, when the
Buccaneers, who had lost many men, their
commander having his leg broken with a
cannon shot, began to waver and to think of
retiring, having in vain tried to burn down
the place with their fireballs, and charged up
to the very walls, which they tried in vain to
climb, sword in hand. When the Spaniards
saw them drawing back through the dusk, in
some disorder, carrying their wounded men
and gnashing their teeth in rage at the dark
lines of defence, they shouted out "Come on,
you dogs of heretics; come on, you English
devils: you shan't get to Panama this bout,
for we'll serve your comerades as we have
served you." The Buccaneers, astonished at
their cries, now for the first time learnt that
Morgan's expedition had been heard of at
Panama.
Night had already begun, and the rain of
bullets, shot, and Indian arrows (more deadly
almost than the bullets), harassing and well-aimed,
continued as grievous as by day.
Taking advantage of the gloom, another
party advanced to the palisadoes; the light of
their burning fuses directed the aim of the
Spaniards.
A singular accident of war gave the place,
so briskly defended, into the hands of the
assailants. A party of the French musketeers
were talking together, devising a plan
of advance, when a swift Indian arrow fell
among them and pierced one of the speakers
in the shoulder (Esquemeling says in the
back and right through the body, another
writer says in the eye). A thought struck the
wounded man, for the wound had spurred his
imagination: coolly drawing the point from
his shoulder, he said to those near him,
"Attendez, mes frères, je m'en vais faire périr
tous les Espagnols—tous—avec cette sacré
flèche" (wait a bit, my mates, I'll kill all the
Spaniards—all—with this d—— arrow); so
saying he drew from his pocket a handful of
wild cotton, which the Buccaneers kept as
lint to staunch their wounds, and wound it
round the dart; then putting it in his loaded
musket, from which he extracted the ball, he
fired it back at the castle roof. It alighted on
some dry thatch, which in a moment began
to smoke, and in another second broke into a
bright flame, more visible for the darkness.
The Buccaneers shouted and pushed on to the
attack, and the wounded men forgot their
wounds. Some of the men, seeing the result
of the experiment, gathered up the Indian
arrows that lay thick around them, and fired
them at the roofs. Many houses were soon
in flames. The Spaniards, busy with the
defence, did not see the fire until it had
gained some head, and reaching a parcel of
powder blown it up and caused ruin and consternation
within the fort. If they left the
walls the Buccaneers gained ground, if they
left the fire the flames spread more terribly
than before; the want of sufficient water
increased the confusion, and while they tried
to quench the conflagration, the Buccaneers
set fire to the palisadoes.
Œxmelin, who was present as a surgeon at
this attack of Chagres, relates an anecdote
of courage which he himself witnessed, to
show the indomitable fury of the assailants.
One of his own friends was pierced in the eye
by an Indian arrow, and came to him to beg
him to pull it out, the pain was so intense
and unbearable. Although a surgeon, Œxmelin
had not the nerve to inflict such
torture, however momentary, on a friend,
and turned away in pity, upon which the
hardy seaman tore out the arrow with a
curse, and, binding up the wound, rushed
forward to the wall. The few Buccaneers
who had retreated, seeing the flames, now
hurried back to the attack. The Spaniards
could no longer see the enemy at whom they
fired, the night was so dark and starless,
while the Buccaneers shot down with the
unerring aim of hunters the Spaniards, whose
bodies stood out dark and well-defined against
the bright background of flame. All this
time, before the fire of the roofs could be
extinguished, the Buccaneers had swarmed
through the fosse, and, mounting upon each
other's shoulders, burnt down part of the
palisadoes, as we have before described, in
spite of the hand grenades that were thrown
from above, and which burst among them.
The fire ran along the wall, leaping like a
winged thing, and devoured wherever it
clung, spreading with dreadful rapidity.
The fight continued all night, and when
the calm daylight broke on the worn soldiers,
the Buccaneers saw with sparkling eyes
that the gabions had smouldered through,
and that the earth had fallen down in large
heaps into the fosse. The breaches in many
places were practicable. The armour had
fallen piece-meal from their giant adversary,
and he now stood before them bare, wounded,
and defenceless. The Buccaneers, creeping
within musket shot of the walls, shot down
the gunners in the breaches to which the
cannon had been dragged by the governor's
orders during the night. Divided into two
bands, one party kept up a constant fire on
the guns, and the other watched the motions
of the enemy. About noon they advanced
to a spot which the governor himself defended,
belted round with twenty-five brave
Spaniards, armed with pikes, halberds, swords,
and muskets. They advanced under a dreadful
hail of fire and lead, the defenders casting
down flaming pots full of combustible matter
and "odious smells," which destroyed many of
the English. But we do not know how smells
could drive back men who would have
marched through hell if it had been the
shortest way to Panama.
Nothing could equal the unflinching courage
of the Spaniards—they disputed every
inch of ground—they yielded slowly like
wounded lions when the hunters narrow
their circles. They showered stones and all
available missiles on their assailants, only
wishing to kill a Buccaneer, but feeling that
resistance was hopeless; some, rather than
yield, threw themselves from the cliffs into
the sea, and few survived the fall. As the
Buccaneers won their way to the castle the
Spaniards retreated to the garde du corps,
where they entrenched themselves with two
cannon; to the last the governor refused
quarter, and at last fell shot through the
brain. The few who remained surrendered
when the guns were taken and would have
been turned against them.
Only fourteen men were found unhurt in
the fort and about nine or ten wounded, who
had hid themselves among the dead. They
told Morgan that they were all that were
left of a garrison of 314 soldiers. The
governor, seeing that he was lost, had despatched
the survivors to Panama to alarm the
city, and remained behind to die. No officer
was left alive; they had been the first to set
their men the example of a glorious death.
It appeared that a Buccaneer deserter, an
Irishman, whom Morgan had not even informed
of his design, had come to the port,
and assured them of the attack on La Rancheria,
and the contemplated movement on
Panama. The governor of that place had
instantly sent to Chagres a reinforcement of
164 men, with ammunition and provisions,
and had placed ambuscades along the river.
He was at that very moment, they said,
awaiting them in the savannah with 3600
men: of these 2000 were infantry, 400
cavalry, and 600 Indians. He had also employed
200 muleteers and hunters to collect
a drove of 1000 wild cattle to drive down
upon the invaders.
"The taking of this castle," says Esquemeling,
"cost the pirates excessively dear,
in comparison to what they were wont to
lose, and their toil and labour was greater
than at the conquest of the Isle of St.
Catherine." On numbering their thinned
ranks, many voices were silent at the roll
call. More than 100 men were found to be
dead, and more than seventy grievously
wounded. There were sixty who could not
rise, and many in the ranks wore on their arms
strips of the Spanish colours, or had their
heads bound round with bloody cloths. The
prisoners they compelled to drag their own
dead to the edge of the cliffs and cast them
among the shattered bodies on the beach, and
then to bury them where the sea could not
wash them out of their graves, or the birds
devour them. The castle chapel they turned
into an hospital for the wounded, and the
female slaves were employed to tend them,
for the surgeons in the heat of battle had
only had time to amputate a limb or bind
an artery.