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<a href="https://brian.carnell.com/wiki/_media/etext:j:john-masefield-on-the-spanish-main-010.jpg"><img src="https://brian.carnell.com/wiki/_media/etext:j:john-masefield-on-the-spanish-main-010_th.jpg" width="338" height="400"
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<span class="caption">CAPTAIN WILLIAM DAMPIER</span>
</div>


<hr class="chapter" />

<h1>ON THE SPANISH MAIN</h1>

<h3>OR, SOME ENGLISH FORAYS ON THE
ISTHMUS OF DARIEN. WITH A DESCRIPTION
OF THE BUCCANEERS AND A
SHORT ACCOUNT OF OLD-TIME
SHIPS AND SAILORS</h3>

<p class="center" style="margin-top: 2em;">BY</p>

<h2>JOHN MASEFIELD</h2>


<p class="center" style="margin-top: 3em;">WITH TWENTY-TWO ILLUSTRATIONS AND A MAP</p>

<p class="center" style="margin-top: 3em;">METHUEN &amp; CO.<br />
36 ESSEX STREET W.C.<br />
LONDON</p>

<hr class="small" />

<p class="center"><i>First Published in 1906</i></p>

<p class="center" style="margin-top: 3em;">THE RIVERSIDE PRESS LIMITED, EDINBURGH.</p>


<hr class="small" />

<p class="center">TO</p>

<p class="center">JACK B. YEATS</p>


<hr class="chapter" />
<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_vii" id="Page_vii">[vii]</a></span></p>
<h2>CONTENTS</h2>

<div class="toc">
<h3><a href="#CHAPTER_I">CHAPTER I</a></h3>

<p>&nbsp;<span class="ralign smcap lowercase">PAGE</span></p>

<p class="toc">DRAKE'S VOYAGE TO THE WEST INDIES <span class="ralign">1</span></p>

<p class="chdescr">His quarrel with the Spaniards&mdash;His preliminary raids&mdash;His
landfall&mdash;The secret harbour</p>

<h3><a href="#CHAPTER_II">CHAPTER II</a></h3>

<p class="toc">THE ATTACK ON NOMBRE DE DIOS <span class="ralign">15</span></p>
<p class="chdescr">The treasure of the Indies&mdash;The Bastimentos&mdash;A Spanish herald</p>

<h3><a href="#CHAPTER_III">CHAPTER III</a></h3>

<p class="toc">THE CRUISE OFF THE MAIN <span class="ralign">26</span></p>

<p class="chdescr">
<ins class="correction" title="Transcriber's Note: this topic should be after 'Cartagena'">The secret haven</ins>&mdash;The
cruise of the pinnaces&mdash;Cartagena&mdash;Death
of John Drake</p>

<h3><a href="#CHAPTER_IV">CHAPTER IV</a></h3>

<p class="toc">THE ROAD TO PANAMA <span class="ralign">55</span></p>
<p class="chdescr">The Maroons&mdash;The native city&mdash;The great tree&mdash;Panama&mdash;The
silver train&mdash;The failure&mdash;Venta Cruz</p>

<h3><a href="#CHAPTER_V">CHAPTER V</a></h3>

<p class="toc">BACK TO THE MAIN BODY <span class="ralign">74</span></p>
<p class="chdescr">The treasure train&mdash;The spoil&mdash;Captain Tet&ucirc; hurt</p>

<h3><a href="#CHAPTER_VI">CHAPTER VI</a></h3>

<p class="toc">THE ADVENTURE OF THE RAFT <span class="ralign">88</span></p>
<p class="chdescr">Drake's voyage to the Catives&mdash;Homeward bound&mdash;The interrupted
sermon</p>
</div>
<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_viii" id="Page_viii">[viii]</a></span></p>

<div class="toc">
<h3><a href="#CHAPTER_VII">CHAPTER VII</a></h3>

<p class="toc">JOHN OXENHAM <span class="ralign">98</span></p>

<p class="chdescr">The voyage&mdash;His pinnace&mdash;Into the South Sea&mdash;Disaster&mdash;His
unhappy end</p>

<h3><a href="#CHAPTER_VIII">CHAPTER VIII</a></h3>

<p class="toc">THE SPANISH RULE IN HISPANIOLA <span class="ralign">106</span></p>
<p class="chdescr">Rise of the Buccaneers&mdash;The hunters of the wild
bulls&mdash;Tortuga&mdash;Buccaneer politics&mdash;Buccaneer customs</p>

<h3><a href="#CHAPTER_IX">CHAPTER IX</a></h3>

<p class="toc">BUCCANEER CUSTOMS <span class="ralign">129</span></p>
<p class="chdescr">Mansvelt and Morgan&mdash;Morgan's raid on Cuba&mdash;Puerto del
Principe</p>

<h3><a href="#CHAPTER_X">CHAPTER X</a></h3>

<p class="toc">THE SACK OF PORTO BELLO <span class="ralign">148</span></p>

<p class="chdescr">The Gulf of Maracaibo&mdash;Morgan's escape from the Spaniards</p>

<h3><a href="#CHAPTER_XI">CHAPTER XI</a></h3>

<p class="toc">MORGAN'S GREAT RAID <span class="ralign">168</span></p>
<p class="chdescr">Chagres castle&mdash;Across the isthmus&mdash;Sufferings of the
Buccaneers&mdash;Venta Cruz&mdash;Old Panama</p>

<h3><a href="#CHAPTER_XII">CHAPTER XII</a></h3>

<p class="toc">THE SACK OF PANAMA <span class="ralign">197</span></p>
<p class="chdescr">The burning of the city&mdash;Buccaneer excesses&mdash;An abortive
mutiny&mdash;Home&mdash;Morgan's defection</p>

<h3><a href="#CHAPTER_XIII">CHAPTER XIII</a></h3>

<p class="toc">CAPTAIN DAMPIER <span class="ralign">218</span></p>

<p class="chdescr">Campeachy&mdash;Logwood cutting&mdash;The march to Santa Maria</p>

<h3><a href="#CHAPTER_XIV">CHAPTER XIV</a></h3>

<p class="toc">THE BATTLE OF PERICO <span class="ralign">245</span></p>
<p class="chdescr">Arica&mdash;The South Sea cruise</p>
</div>

<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_ix" id="Page_ix">[ix]</a></span></p>

<div class="toc">
<h3><a href="#CHAPTER_XV">CHAPTER XV</a></h3>

<p class="toc">ACROSS THE ISTHMUS <span class="ralign">276</span></p>
<p class="chdescr">The way home&mdash;Sufferings and adventures</p>

<h3><a href="#CHAPTER_XVI">CHAPTER XVI</a></h3>

<p class="toc">SHIPS AND RIGS <span class="ralign">291</span></p>

<p class="chdescr"><ins class="correction" title="Transcriber's Note: additional topics are listed at the start of Chapter XVI">Pavesses</ins>&mdash;Top-arming&mdash;Banners&mdash;Boats</p>

<h3><a href="#CHAPTER_XVII">CHAPTER XVII</a></h3>

<p class="toc">GUNS AND GUNNERS <span class="ralign">298</span></p>
<p class="chdescr">Breech-loaders&mdash;Cartridges&mdash;Powder&mdash;The gunner's art</p>

<h3><a href="#CHAPTER_XVIII">CHAPTER XVIII</a></h3>

<p class="toc">THE SHIP'S COMPANY <span class="ralign">311</span></p>
<p class="chdescr">Captain&mdash;Master&mdash;Lieutenant&mdash;Warrant officers&mdash;Duties and
privileges</p>

<h3><a href="#CHAPTER_XIX">CHAPTER XIX</a></h3>

<p class="toc">THE CHOOSING OF WATCHES <span class="ralign">322</span></p>
<p class="chdescr">The petty tally&mdash;Food&mdash;Work&mdash;Punishments</p>

<h3><a href="#CHAPTER_XX">CHAPTER XX</a></h3>

<p class="toc">IN ACTION <span class="ralign">334</span></p>

<p class="toc" style="margin-top: 1.5em;"><a href="#INDEX">INDEX</a> <span class="ralign">341</span></p>
</div>



<hr class="chapter" />
<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_xi" id="Page_xi">[xi]</a></span></p>
<h2>LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS</h2>


<div class="toc">
<p>&nbsp; <span class="smcap lowercase ralign">PAGE</span></p>
<p class="toc"><a href="#img010">CAPTAIN WILLIAM DAMPIER</a> <span class="ralign"><i>Frontispiece</i></span></p>

<p class="toc"><a href="#img035">NOMBRE DE DIOS</a> <span class="ralign">12</span></p>

<p class="toc"><a href="#img051">CARTAGENA</a> <span class="ralign">26</span></p>

<p class="toc"><a href="#img067">CARTAGENA IN 1586, SHOWING THE DOUBLE HARBOUR</a> <span class="ralign">40</span></p>
<p class="chdescr">The ship in the foreground may be Drake's flagship, the
      <i>Bonaventure</i></p>

<p class="toc"><a href="#img078">AN ELIZABETHAN WARSHIP</a> <span class="ralign">49</span></p>

<p class="chdescr">A pinnace beyond, to the left</p>

<p class="toc"><a href="#img126">SHIP AND FLYING-FISH</a> <span class="ralign">95</span></p>

<p class="toc"><a href="#img147">A BUCCANEER'S SLAVE, WITH HIS MASTER'S GUN</a> <span class="ralign">114</span></p>
<p class="chdescr">A barbecue in right lower corner</p>

<p class="toc"><a href="#img167">OLD PORT ROYAL</a> <span class="ralign">132</span></p>

<p class="toc"><a href="#img177">PUERTO DEL PRINCIPE</a> <span class="ralign">142</span></p>

<p class="toc"><a href="#img187">PORTO BELLO, CIRCA 1740, SHOWING THE SITUATION AND DEFENCES OF
    THE CITY</a> <span class="ralign">150</span></p>

<p class="toc"><a href="#img203">THE FIRESHIP DESTROYING THE "SPANISH ADMIRAL"</a> <span class="ralign">164</span></p>
<p class="chdescr">Castle de la Barra in background</p>

<p class="toc"><a href="#img214">CHAGRES (CIRCA 1739)</a> <span class="ralign">173</span></p>

<p class="toc"><a href="#img223">THE ISTHMUS, SHOWING MORGAN'S LINE OF ADVANCE</a> <span class="ralign">180</span></p>

<p class="toc"><a href="#img240">NEW PANAMA</a> <span class="ralign">195</span></p>

<p class="toc"><a href="#img247">THE BATTLE OF PANAMA</a> <span class="ralign">200</span></p>

<p class="toc"><a href="#img259">SIR HENRY MORGAN</a> <span class="ralign">210</span></p>
</div>

<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_xii" id="Page_xii">[xii]</a></span></p>
<div class="toc">
<p class="toc"><a href="#img317">A DESCRIPTION OF ARICA</a> <span class="ralign">266</span></p>

<p class="toc"><a href="#img327">A DESCRIPTION OF HILO</a> <span class="ralign">274</span></p>

<p class="toc"><a href="#img348">AN ELIZABETHAN GALLEON</a> <span class="ralign">293</span></p>

<p class="toc"><a href="#img354">AN ELIZABETHAN GALLEON</a> <span class="ralign">297</span></p>

<p class="toc"><a href="#img369">A GALLIASSE</a> <span class="ralign">310</span></p>

<p class="toc"><a href="#img384">THE "SOVEREIGN OF THE SEAS"</a> <span class="ralign">323</span></p>

<p class="toc"><a href="#map">MAP OF THE BUCCANEER CRUISING GROUNDS</a> <span class="ralign">340</span></p>
</div>





<hr class="chapter" />
<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_1" id="Page_1">[1]</a></span></p>
<h1><a name="ON_THE_SPANISH_MAIN" id="ON_THE_SPANISH_MAIN"></a>ON THE SPANISH MAIN</h1>



<h2 style="margin-top: 2em;"><a name="CHAPTER_I" id="CHAPTER_I"></a>CHAPTER I</h2>

<h3>DRAKE'S VOYAGE TO THE WEST INDIES</h3>

<div class="blockquot"><p>His quarrel with the Spaniards&mdash;His preliminary raids&mdash;His
landfall&mdash;The secret harbour</p></div>


<p>Francis Drake, the first Englishman to make
himself "redoubtable to the Spaniards" on the
Spanish Main, was born near Tavistock about the year
1545. He was sent to sea, as a lad, aboard a Channel
coaster engaged in trade with the eastern counties,
France and Zeeland. When he was eighteen years of
age he joined his cousin, John Hawkins, then a great
and wealthy merchant, engaged in the slave trade. Four
years later he sailed with Hawkins on a memorable
trading voyage to the Spanish Main. On this occasion
he commanded a small vessel of fifty tons.</p>

<p>The voyage was unfortunate from the beginning, for
the Spaniards had orders from their King to refuse to
trade with any foreigners. Before the English could get
rid of their freight the ships of their squadron were
severely battered by a hurricane, so that they were forced
to put into San Juan d'Ulloa, the port of Vera Cruz,
to refit. While they lay there a Spanish fleet arrived,
carrying a vast quantity of gold and silver for transhipment
to Spain. It was not to Hawkins' advantage to
allow this Spanish force to enter the haven, for he feared
that they would treat him as a pirate if they had an<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_2" id="Page_2">[2]</a></span>
opportunity to do so. However, the Spaniards came to
terms with him, an agreement was signed by both parties,
and the Spanish ships were allowed into the port. The
next day the Spaniards treacherously attacked the English
squadron, sank one of the ships at her moorings, killed
many of the men, captured a number more, and drove the
survivors to sea in Drake's ship the <i>Judith</i>, and a larger
ship called the <i>Minion</i>. It was this treacherous attack
(and, perhaps, some earlier treachery not recorded) which
made Drake an implacable enemy of the Spaniards for
the next twenty-eight years.</p>

<p>After the disaster at San Juan d'Ulloa, Drake endeavoured
to obtain some recompense for the losses he
had sustained. But "finding that no recompence could
be recovered out of Spain by any of his own means, or by
her Majesties letters; he used such helpes as he might
by two severall Voyages into the West Indies." In the
first of these two voyages, in 1570, he had two ships, the
<i>Dragon</i> and the <i>Swan</i>. In the second, in 1571, he sailed
in the <i>Swan</i> without company. The <i>Swan</i> was a small
vessel of only five and twenty tons, but she was a "lucky"
ship, and an incomparable sailer. We know little of
these two voyages, though a Spanish letter (quoted by Mr
Corbett) tells us of a Spanish ship he took; and Thomas
Moone, Drake's coxswain, speaks of them as having been
"rich and gainfull." Probably Drake employed a good
deal of his time in preparing for a future raid, for when
he ventured out in earnest in 1572 he showed himself
singularly well acquainted with the town he attacked.
The account from which we take our information expressly
states that this is what he did. He went, it says,
"to gaine such intelligences as might further him to get
some amends for his losse. And having, in those two
Voyages, gotten such certaine notice of the persons and
places aymed at, as he thought requisite; and thereupon<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_3" id="Page_3">[3]</a></span>
with good deliberation, resolved on a third Voyage, he
accordingly prepared his Ships and Company ... as now
followes further to be declared."</p>

<p>There can be little doubt that the two tentative voyages
were highly profitable, for Drake was able to fit out his
third expedition with a care and completeness almost
unknown at that time. The ships were "richly furnished,
with victuals and apparel for a whole year: and no lesse
heedfully provided of all manner of Munition, Artillery,
Artificers, stuffe and tooles, that were requisite for such a
Man-of-war in such an attempt." He himself, as Admiral
of the expedition, commanded the larger ship, the <i>Pascha</i> of
Plymouth, of seventy tons. His younger brother, John Drake,
sailed as captain of the <i>Swan</i>. In all there were seventy-three
men and boys in the expedition; and we read that
they were mostly young men&mdash;"the eldest ... fifty, all the
rest under thirty." They were all volunteers&mdash;a fact that
shows that Drake had gained a reputation for luck
in these adventures. Forty-seven of the seventy-three
sailed aboard the <i>Pascha</i>; while the <i>Swan</i> carried the remaining
twenty-six, probably with some inconvenience.
Carefully stowed away in the holds of the two vessels
were "three dainty Pinnases, made in Plimouth, taken
asunder all in pieces, to be set up as occasion served."
This instance of Drake's forethought makes it very clear
that the expedition had been planned with extreme care.
The comfort of the men had been studied: witness the
supply of "apparell." There was a doctor aboard, though
he does not seem to have been "a great proficient" in his
art; and the expedition was so unusually healthy that
we feel convinced that Drake had some specific for the
scurvy.</p>

<p>"On Whitsunday Eve, being the 24 of May, 1572," the
two ships "set sayl from out of the Sound of Plimouth,"
with intent to land at Nombre de Dios (Name of God)<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_4" id="Page_4">[4]</a></span>
a town on the northern coast of the Isthmus of Darien,
at that time "the granary of the West Indies, wherein
the golden harvest brought from Peru and Mexico to
Panama was hoarded up till it could be conveyed into
Spain." The wind was steady from the north-east the
day they sailed, so that the watchers from the shore must
soon have lost sight of them. No doubt the boats of all
the ships in the Sound came off to give the adventurers
a parting cheer, or, should they need it, a tow to sea. No
doubt the two ships were very gay with colours and
noisy with the firing of farewells. Then at last, as the
sails began to draw, and the water began to bubble from
the bows, the trumpeters sounded "A loath to depart,"
the anchor came to the cathead, and the boats splashed
back to Plymouth, their crews jolly with the parting
glasses.</p>

<p>The wind that swept the two ships out of port continued
steady at north-east, "and gave us a very good passage,"
taking them within sight of Porto Santo, one of the
Madeiras, within twelve days of their leaving Plymouth.
The wind continued fair when they stood to the westward,
after sighting the Canaries, so that neither ship so much
as shortened sail "untill 25 dayes after," when the
men in the painted tops descried the high land of
Guadaloupe. They stood to the south of Guadaloupe,
as though to pass between that island and Dominica, but
seeing some Indians busily fishing off a rocky island to
the south of Dominica they determined to recruit there
before proceeding farther. This island was probably
Marygalante, a pleasant island full of trees, a sort of
summer fishing ground for the Dominican Indians. There
is good anchorage off many parts of it; and Drake
anchored to the south, sending the men ashore to live
in tents for their refreshment. They also watered their
ships while lying at anchor "out of one of those goodly<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_5" id="Page_5">[5]</a></span>
rivers which fall down off the mountain." Running water
was always looked upon as less wholesome than spring
water; and, perhaps, they burnt a bag of biscuit on the
beach, and put the charcoal in the casks to destroy any
possible infection. They saw no Indians on the island,
though they came across "certain poore cottages built with
Palmito boughs and branches," in which they supposed
the Indians lodged when engaged upon their fishery.
Having filled the casks, and stowed them aboard again,
the ships weighed anchor, and sailed away south towards
the mainland. On the fifth day, keeping well to seaward,
thirty miles from the shore, to avoid discovery, they made
the high land of Santa Martha on "the Terra Firma."
Having made the landfall they sailed westward into the
Gulf of Darien, and in six days more (during two of
which the ships were becalmed) they came to a secret
anchorage which Drake had discovered in his former
voyage. He had named it Port Pheasant, "by reason of
the great store of those goodly fowls which he and his
Company did then dayly kill and feed on in that place."
"It was a fine round Bay, of very safe harbour for all
winds, lying between two high points, not past half a
cable's length (or a hundred yards) over at the mouth,
but within eight or ten cables' length every way, having
ten or twelve fadome water, more or lesse, full of good
fish, the soile also very fruitfull." Drake had been there
"within a year and few days before," and had left the
shore clear of tangle, with alleys and paths by which men
might walk in the woods, after goodly fowls or otherwise;
but a year of that steaming climate had spoiled his
handiwork. The tangle of many-blossomed creepers and
succulent green grasses had spread across the paths "as
that we doubted at first whether this were the same place
or no." We do not know where this romantic harbour
lies, for the Gulf of Darien is still unsurveyed. We know<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_6" id="Page_6">[6]</a></span>
only that it is somewhere nearly equidistant from
Santiago de Tolu (to the east) and Nombre de Dios (to
the west). Roughly speaking, it was 120 miles from either
place, so that "there dwelt no Spaniards within thirty-five
leagues." Before the anchors were down, and the sails
furled Drake ordered out the boat, intending to go ashore.
As they neared the landing-place they spied a smoke in
the woods&mdash;a smoke too big to come from an Indian's fire.
Drake ordered another boat to be manned with musketeers
and bowmen, suspecting that the Spaniards had found
the place, and that the landing would be disputed. On
beaching the boats they discovered "evident markes"
that a Plymouth ship, under the command of one John
Garret, had been there but a day or two before. He had
left a plate of lead, of the sort supplied to ships to nail
across shot-holes, "nailed fast to a mighty great tree,"
some thirty feet in girth. On the lead a letter had been
cut:</p>

<p>
<span class="smcap">Captain Drake</span>,<br />
</p>

<p style="text-indent: 8em;">if you fortune to come to this Port,
make hast away; for the Spanyards which you had with
you here the last year, have bewrayed this place, and taken
away all that you left here. I departed from hence this
present 7 of July, 1572.</p>

<p class="sig">Your very loving friend,<br />
<span class="smcap">John Garret.</span></p>

<p>The smoke was from a fire which Garret and his men
had kindled in a great hollow tree, that was probably
rotted into touchwood. It had smouldered for five days
or more, sending up a thick smoke, to warn any coming
to the harbour to proceed with caution.</p>

<p>The announcement that the place was known to the
Spaniards did not weigh very heavily upon Drake; nor<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">[7]</a></span>
is it likely that he suffered much from the loss of his
hidden stores, for nothing of any value could have been
left in such a climate. He determined not to leave
"before he had built his Pinnaces," and therefore, as
soon as the ships were moored, he ordered the pieces to
be brought ashore "for the Carpenters to set up." The
rest of the company was set to the building of a fort
upon the beach by the cutting down of trees, "and haling
them together with great Pullies and halsers." The fort
was built in the form of a pentagon, with a sort of sea-gate
opening on the bay, for the easy launching of the pinnaces.
This gate could be closed at night by the drawing
of a log across the opening. They dug no trench, but
cleared the ground instead, so that for twenty yards all
round the stockhouse there was nothing to hinder a
marksman or afford cover to an enemy. Beyond that
twenty yards the forest closed in, with its wall of living
greenery, with trees "of a marvellous height" tangled
over with the brilliant blossoms of many creepers. The
writer of the account seems to have been one of the
building party that sweated the logs into position. "The
wood of those trees," he writes, "is as heavie, or heavier,
than Brasil or Lignum Vit&aelig;, and is in colour white."</p>

<p>The very next day an English barque came sailing into
the anchorage, with two prizes, in her wake&mdash;"a Spanish
Carvell of Sivell," which had despatches aboard her for
the Governor of Nombre de Dios, and a shallop with oars,
picked up off Cape Blanco to the eastward. She was the
property of Sir Edward Horsey, at that time Governor
of the Isle of Wight, a gallant gentleman, who received
"sweetmeats and Canarie wine" from French pirates
plying in the Channel. Her captain was one James
Rawse, or Rause; and she carried thirty men, some of
whom had been with Drake the year before. Captain
Rause, on hearing Drake's intentions, was eager "to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8">[8]</a></span>
joyne in consort with him." We may well imagine that
Drake cared little for his company; but conditions were
agreed upon, an agreement signed, and the two crews
set to work together. Within seven days the pinnaces
had been set up, and launched, and stored with all things
necessary. Then early one morning (the 20th of July)
the ships got their anchors, and hoisted sail for Nombre
de Dios, arriving three days later at the Isles of Pines,
a group of little islands covered with fir-trees, not far to
the west of the mouth of the Gulf of Darien. At the Pine
Islands they found two frigates of Nombre de Dios,
"lading plank and timber from thence," the soft fir wood
being greatly in demand on the mainland, where the trees
were harder, and difficult to work. The wood was being
handled by negroes, who gave Drake some intelligence of
the state of affairs at the little town he intended to attack.
They said that the town was in a state of siege, expecting
to be attacked at any moment by the armies of the
Cimmeroons, who had "neere surprised it" only six weeks
before. The Cimmeroons were "a black people, which
about eighty yeares past, fledd from the Spaniards their
Masters, by reason of their cruelty, and are since growne
to a nation, under two Kings of their owne: the one
inhabiteth to the west, th'other to the East of the way
from Nombre de Dios to Panama." They were much
dreaded by the Spaniards, with whom they were at constant
war. The late alarm had caused the Governor to
send to Panama for troops, and "certaine souldiers" were
expected daily to aid in the defence of the town.</p>

<p>Having gathered this intelligence Drake landed the
negroes on the mainland, so that they might rejoin their
countrymen if they wished to do so. In any case,
by landing them so far from home he prevented them
from giving information of his being in those waters.
"For hee was loath to put the towne to too much charge<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">[9]</a></span>
(which hee knew they would willingly bestowe) in providing
before hand, for his entertainment." But being anxious
to avoid all possibility of discovery "he hastened his going
thither, with as much speed and secrecy as possibly he
could." It had taken him three days to get to the Isles
of Pines from his secret harbour&mdash;a distance certainly not
more than 120 miles. He now resolved to leave the three
ships and the carvel&mdash;all four grown more or less foul-bottomed
and slow&mdash;in the care of Captain Rause, with
just sufficient men to work them. With the three dainty
pinnaces and the oared shallop that Rause had taken, he
hoped to make rather swifter progress than he had been
making. He took with him in the four boats fifty-three
of his own company and twenty of Captain Rause's
men, arranging them in order according to the military
text-book: "six Targets, six Firepikes, twelve Pikes,
twenty-four Muskets and Callivers, sixteene Bowes, and
six Partizans, two Drums, and two Trumpets"&mdash;making
seventy-four men in all, the seventy-fourth being the
commander, Drake. Having furnished the boats for the
sea with his usual care Drake parted company, and sailed
slowly to the westward, making about fifteen miles a day
under oars and sails. Perhaps he sailed only at night,
in order to avoid discovery and to rest his men. Early on
the morning of the 28th July they landed "at the Island
of Cativaas," or Catives, off the mouth of the St Francis
River. Here Drake delivered them "their severall armes,
which hitherto he had kept very faire and safe in good
caske," so that neither the heavy dew nor the sea-water
should rust them or wet the powder. He drilled them
on the shore before the heat of the sun became too great,
and after the drill he spoke to them "after his manner,"
declaring "the greatnes of the hope of good things that
was there, the weaknesse of the towne being unwalled, and
the hope he had of prevailing to recompence his wrongs<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">[10]</a></span>
... especially ... as hee should be utterly undiscovered."
In the afternoon, when the sun's strength was past, they
set sail again, standing in close to the shore "that wee
might not be descried of the watch-house." By sunset
they were within two leagues of the point of the bay to
the north-north-east of the town; and here they lowered
their sails, and dropped anchor, "riding so untill it was
darke night." When the night had fallen they stood in
shore again, "with as much silence as wee could," till they
were past the point of the harbour "under the high land,"
and "there wee stayed all silent, purposing to attempt the
towne in the dawning of the day, after that wee had reposed
ourselves for a while."</p>


<h3><span class="smcap">Nombre de Dios</span></h3>

<p>Nombre de Dios was founded by Diego di Niqueza
early in the sixteenth century, about the year 1510.
It received its name from a remark the founder made
on his first setting foot ashore: "Here we will found a
settlement in the name of God." It was never a large
place, for the bay lay exposed to the prevalent winds,
being open to the north and north-east. There was fair
holding ground; but the bay was shallow and full of rocks,
and a northerly gale always raised such a sea that a
ship was hardly safe with six anchors out. The district
was very unhealthy, and the water found there was bad
and in little quantity. There was, however, a spring of
good water on an island at the mouth of the harbour.
To the shoreward there were wooded hills, with marshy
ground on their lower slopes, feeding a little river emptying
to the north of the town. The houses came right down
to the sea, and the trees right down to the houses, so that
"tigers [<i>i.e.</i> jaguars] often came into the town," to carry<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[11]</a></span>
away dogs, fowls, and children. Few ships lay there
without burying a third of their hands; for the fever raged
there, as it rages in some of the Brazilian ports at the
present time. The place was also supposed to favour
the spread of leprosy. The road to Panama entered the
town at the south-east; and there was a gate at this point,
though the town was never walled about. The city seems
to have been built about a great central square, with
straight streets crossing at right angles. Like Cartagena
and Porto Bello, it was as dull as a city of the dead until
the galleons came thither from Cartagena to take on
board "the chests of gold and silver" received from the
Governor of Panama and the golden lands to the south.
When the galleons anchored, the merchants went ashore
with their goods, and pitched sailcloth booths for them
in the central square, and held a gallant fair till they
were sold&mdash;most of the bartering being done by torchlight,
in the cool of the night. Panama was distant some fifty-five
miles; and the road thither was extremely bad, owing
to the frequent heavy rains and the consequent flooding
of the trackway. At the time of Drake's raid, there were
in all some sixty wooden houses in the place, inhabited
in the <i>tiempo muerto</i>, or dead time, by about thirty people.
"The rest," we read, "doe goe to Panama after the fleet
is gone." Those who stayed must have had a weary life
of it, for there could have been nothing for them to do
save to go a-fishing. The fever never left the place, and
there was always the dread of the Cimmeroons. Out in
the bay there was the steaming water, with a few rotten
hulks waiting to be cast ashore, and two or three rocky
islets sticking up for the sea to break against. There was
nothing for an inhabitant to do except to fish, and nothing
for him to see except the water, with the dripping green
trees beside it, and, perhaps, an advice boat slipping past
for Cartagena. Once a year an express came to the bay<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[12]</a></span>
from Panama to say that the Peru fleet had arrived at
that port. A letter was then sent to Cartagena or to San
Juan d'Ulloa to order the great galleons there anchored
to come to collect the treasure, and convey it into Spain.
Before they dropped anchor in the Nombre de Dios bay
that city was filled to overflowing by soldiers and merchants
from Panama and the adjacent cities. Waggons
of maize and cassava were dragged into the streets, with
numbers of fowls and hogs. Lodgings rose in value, until
a "middle chamber" could not be had for less than
1000 crowns. Desperate efforts were made to collect
ballast for the supply ships. Then the treasure trains
from Panama began to arrive. Soldiers marched in,
escorting strings of mules carrying chests of gold and
silver, goatskins filled with bezoar stones, and bales of
vicuna wool. The town became musical with the bells
of the mules' harness. Llamas spat and hissed at the
street corners. The Plaza became a scene of gaiety and
bustle. Folk arrived hourly by the muddy track from
Panama. Ships dropped anchor hourly, ringing their
bells and firing salutes of cannon. The grand fair then
began, and the city would be populous and stirring till
the galleons had cleared the harbour on the voyage to
Spain. As soon as the fleet was gone the city emptied
as rapidly as it had filled. The merchants and merry-makers
vanished back to Panama, and the thirty odd
wretched souls who stayed, began their dreary vigil until
the next year, when the galleons returned. In 1584, on
the report of Antonio Baptista, surveyor to the King of
Spain, the trade was removed to Porto Bello, a beautiful
bay, discovered and named by Columbus, lying some
twenty miles farther to the west. It is a good harbour
for all winds, and offers every convenience for the careening
of vessels. The surveyor thought it in every way a
superior harbour. "Neither," he writes, "will so many<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[13]</a></span>
die there as there daily doe in Nombre de Dios." By
the middle of the seventeenth century the ruins of the
old town were barely discernible; but all traces of them
have long since disappeared. Dampier (writing of the
year 1682) says that: "I have lain ashore in the place
where that City stood; but it is all overgrown with
Wood; so as toe leave noe sign that any Town hath been
there." A thick green cane brake has overgrown the
Plaza. The battery has crumbled away. The church bell
which made such a clatter has long since ceased to sound.
The latest Admiralty Chart ignores the place.</p>

<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;">
<a name="img035" id="img035"></a>
<a href="https://brian.carnell.com/wiki/_media/etext:j:john-masefield-on-the-spanish-main-035.jpg"><img src="https://brian.carnell.com/wiki/_media/etext:j:john-masefield-on-the-spanish-main-035_th.jpg" width="400" height="299"
alt="NOMBRE DE DIOS" title="NOMBRE DE DIOS" /></a>
<span class="caption">NOMBRE DE DIOS</span>
</div>

<p>The Cimmeroons frequently attacked the city while
it was in occupation. Once they captured and destroyed
it.</p>

<p>Drake visited the town a second time in 1595. It was
then a "bigge" town, having large streets and "houses
very hie, all built of timber," "one church very faire," and
"a show in their shops of great store of merchandises that
had been there."<a name="FNanchor_1_1" id="FNanchor_1_1"></a><a href="#Footnote_1_1" class="fnanchor">[1]</a> There was a mill above the town,
and a little watch-house "upon the top of another hill
in the woods." To the east there was a fresh river "with
houses, and all about it gardens." The native quarter was
some miles away in the woods. Drake burned the town,
a deed which caused the inhabitants to migrate to Porto
Bello. It was at Nombre de Dios that Drake contracted
the flux of which he died. The town witnessed his first
triumph and final discomfiture.</p>
<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[14]</a></span></p>
<div class="blockquot"><p><i>Note.</i>&mdash;The authorities for this and the following chapters are:</p>

<p>1. "Sir Francis Drake Reviv'd" (first published in 1626), by Philip
Nichols, Preacher, helped, no doubt, by Drake himself and some of his
company. 2. The scanty notice of the raid given in Hakluyt. 3. The
story of Lopez Vaz, a Portuguese, also in Hakluyt.</p>

<p>For the description of Nombre de Dios I have trusted to the account
of Drake's last voyage printed in Hakluyt, vol. iii. p. 587. In the same
collection there is a translation from a very interesting report by a Spanish
commissioner to the King of Spain. This paper gives reasons for the
transference of the town to Porto Bello. One or two Ruttiers, or Mariner's
Guides, make mention of the port, and of these the best is given in Hakluyt.
It is also mentioned (but very curtly) in Herrera's History, in Dampier's
Voyages, and in the account left by Champlain after his short visit to
Panama. I know of no plan or picture of the place. The drawing
reproduced here, from Schenk's "Hecatompolis," is purely imaginary,
however pretty. For my remarks on "Cruces," or Venta Cruz, I am
indebted to friends who have lived many years in Panama, and to an
interesting article in <i>The Geographical Journal</i> (December-July 1903, p. 325),
by Colonel G. E. Church, M. Am. Soc. C.E.</p></div>



<hr class="chapter" />
<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[15]</a></span></p>
<h2><a name="CHAPTER_II" id="CHAPTER_II"></a>CHAPTER II</h2>

<h3>THE ATTACK ON NOMBRE DE DIOS</h3>

<div class="blockquot"><p>The treasure of the Indies&mdash;The Bastimentos&mdash;A Spanish herald</p></div>


<p>It may now have been ten o'clock at night, and we may
reckon that the boats were still four or five miles from
the town, the lights of which, if any burned, must have been
plainly visible to the south and south-south-west. To
many of those who rocked there in the bay the coming tussle
was to be the first engagement. The night wind may
have seemed a little chilly, and the night and the strange
town full of terrors. The men fell to talking in whispers,
and the constraint and strangeness of it all, the noise of
the clucking water, the cold of the night, and the thought
of what the negro lumbermen had said, began to get upon
their nerves. They talked of the strength of the town
(and indeed, although it was an open bay, without good
water, it had at that time much of the importance
of Porto Bello, in the following century). They talked
"especially" of the reported troop of soldiers from
Panama, for Spanish infantry were the finest in the world,
and the presence of a company in addition to the garrison
would be enough to beat off the little band in the
boats. Drake heard these conversations, and saw his
young men getting out of hand, and "thought it best to
put these conceits out of their heads." As the moon rose
he persuaded them "that it was the day dawning"&mdash;a
fiction made the more easy by the intervention of the
high land between the watchers and the horizon. By the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[16]</a></span>
growing light the boats stole farther in, arriving "at the
towne, a large hower sooner than first was purposed. For
wee arrived there by three of the clock after midnight."
It happened that a "ship of <i>Spaine</i>, of sixtie Tunnes, laden
with Canary wines and other commodities" had but newly
arrived in the bay, "and had not yet furld her sprit-saile."
It was the custom for ships to discharge half of their
cargoes at one of the islands in the bay, so as to draw less
water when they ventured farther in. Perhaps this ship of
Spain was about to discharge her butts and tierces. At
any rate her men were on deck, and the light of the moon
enabled them to see the four pinnaces, "an extraordinary
number" in so small a port, rowing hard, "with many
Oares," towards the landing. The Spaniards sent away
their "Gundeloe," or small boat (gondola, as we should
say), to warn the townsmen; but Drake edged a little to
the west, cutting in between the boat and the shore,
so as to force her "to goe to th'other side of the Bay."
Drake's boats then got ashore upon the sands, not
more than twenty yards from the houses, directly under
a battery. There was no quay, and no sea-sentry save a
single gunner, asleep among the guns, who fled as they
clambered up the redoubt. Inside the little fort there
were six great pieces of brass ordnance, some demi- some
whole culverin, throwing shot of 10-18 lbs. weight for a
distance of a mile. It did not take long to dismount
these guns, and spike them, by beating soft metal
nails into the touch-holes, and snapping them off flush
with the orifice. But though the men worked quickly
the gunner was quicker yet. He ran through the narrow
streets, shouting the alarm, and the town woke up like
one man, expecting that the Cimmeroons were on them
from the woods. Someone ran to the church, and set the
great bell swinging. The windows went up, and the
doors slammed, as the townsfolk hurried to their weapons,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[17]</a></span>
and out into the streets. The place rang with cries and
with the rapid beating of the drums, for the drummers
ran about the streets beating vigorously to rouse out the
soldiers. Drake made the battery harmless and set a
guard of twelve men over the boats on the sand. He then
marched hurriedly to the little hill commanding the bay,
to the east of the houses; for he had heard some talk of a
battery being placed there, "which might scour round
about the town," and he wished to put it out of action
before venturing upon the city. He left half his company,
about thirty men, to keep the foot of the hill, and climbed
to the summit, where he found a "very fit place prepared,"
but no guns in position. He returned to the company at
the foot of the mount, and bade his brother, with John
Oxnam, or Oxenham, a gallant captain, and sixteen men,
"to go about, behind the King's Treasure House, and
enter near the easter end of the Market Place." He
himself with the rest would pass up the broad street into
the market-place with sound of drum and trumpet. The
firepikes, "divided half to the one, and half to the other
company, served no less for fright to the enemy than light
of our men, who by this means might discern every place
very well as if it were near day." The drums beat up
gallantly, the trumpets blew points of war, and the poor
citizens, scared from their beds, and not yet sure of their
enemy, stood shivering in the dawn, "marvelling what the
matter might be." In a few moments the two companies
were entering the Plaza, making a dreadful racket as they
marched, to add to the confusion of the townsfolk, who
thought them far stronger than they really were. The
soldiers of the garrison, with some of the citizens, fell into
some sort of order "at the south east end of the Market
Place, near the Governor's House, and not far from the
gate of the town." They chose this position because it
secured them a retreat, in the event of a repulse, along the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[18]</a></span>
road to Panama. The western end of the Plaza had been
hung with lines, from which lighted matches dangled, so
that the enemy might think that troops were there,
"whereas indeed there were not past two or three that
taught these lines to dance," and even these ran away
as soon as the firepikes displayed the fraud. The church
bell was still ringing at the end of the Plaza, and the
townsfolk were still crying out as they ran for Panama,
when Drake's party stormed into the square from the
road leading to the sea. As they hove in sight the
Spanish troops gave them "a jolly hot volley of shot,"
aimed very low, so as to ricochet from the sand. Drake's
men at once replied with a volley from their calivers and
a flight of arrows, "fine roving shafts," which did great
execution. Without waiting to reload they at once
charged in upon the Spaniards, coming at once "to push
of pike" and point and edge. The hurry of the surprise
was such that the Spaniards had no side-arms, and when
once the English had closed, their troops were powerless.
As the parties met, the company under Oxenham came into
the Plaza at the double, by the eastern road, with their
trumpets blowing and the firepikes alight. The Spaniards
made no further fight of it. They flung their weapons
down, and fled along the forest road. For a little distance
the cheering sailors followed them, catching their feet in
muskets and linstocks, which the troops had flung away in
their hurry.</p>

<p>Having dispersed the enemy, the men reformed in the
Plaza, "where a tree groweth hard by the Cross." Some
hands were detailed to stop the ringing of the alarm bell,
which still clanged crazily in the belfry; but the church
was securely fastened, and it was found impossible to
stop the ringing without setting the place on fire, which
Drake forbade. While the men were trying to get
into the church, Drake forced two or three prisoners to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[19]</a></span>
show him the Governor's house, where the mule trains
from Panama were unloaded. Only the silver was stored
in that place; for the gold, pearls, and jewels, "being there
once entered by the King's officer," were locked in a
treasure-house, "very strongly built of lime and stone," at
a little distance from the Cross, not far from the water-side.
At the Governor's house they found the door wide open,
and "a fair gennet ready saddled" waiting for the
Governor to descend. A torch or candle was burning
on the balcony, and by its light the adventurers saw
"a huge heap of silver" in the open space beneath the
dwelling-rooms. It was a pile of bars of silver, heaped
against the wall in a mass that was roughly estimated
to be seventy feet in length, ten feet across, and twelve
feet high&mdash;each bar weighing about forty pounds. The
men were for breaking their ranks in order to plunder the
pile; but Drake bade them stand to their arms. The
King's treasure-house, he said, contained more gold and
pearls than they could take away; and presently, he said,
they would break the place open, and see what lay within.
He then marched his men back into the Plaza.</p>

<p>All this time the town was filled with confusion. Guns
were being fired and folk were crying out in the streets.
It was not yet light, and certain of the garrison, who had
been quartered outside the city, ran to and fro with burning
matches, shouting out "Que gente? Que gente?"
The town at that time was very full of people, and this
noise and confusion, and the sight of so many running
figures, began to alarm the boat guard on the beach. One
Diego, a negro, who had joined them on the sands, had
told them that the garrison had been reinforced only
eight days before by 150 Spanish soldiers.</p>

<p>This report, coupled with the anxiety of their position,
seems to have put the boat party into a panic. They
sent off messengers to Drake, saying that the pinnaces<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[20]</a></span>
were "in danger to be taken," and that the force would
be overwhelmed as soon as it grew light enough for the
Spaniards to see the littleness of the band which had
attacked them. Diego's words confirmed the statements
of the lumbermen at the Isles of Pines. The men of
Drake's party were young. They had never fought
before. They had been on the rack, as it were, for
several days. They were now quite out of hand, and
something of their panic began to spread among the
party on the Plaza. Before Drake could do more than
despatch his brother, with John Oxenham, to reassure the
guard, and see how matters stood, the situation became
yet more complicated. "A mighty shower of rain, with
a terrible storm of thunder and lightning," burst furiously
upon them, making such a roaring that none could hear
his own voice. As in all such storms, the rain came down
in a torrent, hiding the town from view in a blinding
downpour. The men ran for the shelter of "a certain
shade or penthouse, at the western end of the King's
Treasure House," but before they could gain the cover
some of their bowstrings were wetted "and some of our
match and powder hurt." As soon as the shelter had
been reached, the bowstrings were shifted, the guns
reprimed, and the match changed upon the linstocks.
While the industrious were thus employed, a number
of the hands began talking of the reports which had
reached them from the boats. They were "muttering
of the forces of the town," evidently anxious to be gone
from thence, or at least stirring. Drake heard the
muttered talk going up and down the shed, and promptly
told the men that he had brought them to the mouth
of the Treasure of the World, and that if they came away
without it they might blame nobody but themselves.</p>

<p>At the end of a "long half-hour" the storm began to
abate, and Drake felt that he must put an end to the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[21]</a></span>
panic. It was evidently dangerous to allow the men any
"longer leisure to demur of those doubts," nor was it safe
to give the enemy a chance of rallying. He stepped forward,
bidding his brother, with John Oxenham and his
party, to break open the King's treasure-house, while he,
with the remainder of the hands, maintained the Plaza.
"But as he stepped forward his strength and sight and
speech failed him, and he began to faint for want of
blood." He had been hit in the leg with a bullet at
the first encounter, yet in the greatness of his heart he
had not complained, although suffering considerable pain.
He had seen that many of his men had "already gotten
many good things" from the booths and houses in the Plaza,
and he knew very well that these men would take the
first opportunity to slink away down to the boats. He
had, therefore, said nothing about his wound, nor was it
light enough for his men to see that he was bleeding.
On his fainting they noticed that the sand was bloody,
"the blood having filled the very first prints which our
footsteps made"&mdash;a sight which amazed and dismayed
them, for they "thought it not credible" that a man
should "spare so much blood and live." They gave him
a cordial to drink, "wherewith he recovered himself," and
bound his scarf about his leg "for the stopping of the
blood." They then entreated him "to be content to go
with them aboard," there to have his wound probed and
dressed before adventuring farther. This did not satisfy
Drake, for he knew very well that if the Spaniards rallied,
the town would be lost, for it was "utterly impossible,
at least very unlikely, that ever they should, for that
time, return again, to recover the state in which they
now were." He begged them to leave him where he
was, and to get the treasure, for "it were more honourable
for himself to jeopard his life for so great a benefit, than
to leave off so high an enterprise unperformed." But to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[22]</a></span>
this the men would not listen. With Drake, their captain,
alive "they might recover wealth sufficient" at any time,
but with Drake dead "they should hardly be able to
recover home." Those who had picked up a little booty
in the raid were only too glad of an excuse to get to
the boats, while those who were most eager to break
the treasure-house, would not allow Drake to put his
life in hazard. Drake, poor man, was spent with loss
of blood, and could not reason with them, so that, "with
force mingled with fair entreaty, they bare him aboard
his pinnace, and so abandoned a most rich spoil for
the present, only to preserve their Captain's life." It was
just daybreak when they got to the boats, so that they
were able to take stock of each other in the early
morning light before shoving off from the beach. They
had lost but one man, "a trumpeter," who was shot dead
in the Plaza in the first assault, "his Trumpet still in his
hand." Many were wounded, but the Captain's wound
seems to have been the most serious. As they rowed
out from the town the surgeons among them provided
remedies and salves for the wounded. As they neared
the open sea the men took the opportunity to attack
"the aforesaid ship of wines," for "the more comfort of
the company." They made her a prize with no great
trouble, but before they got her clear of the haven they
received a shot or two from the dismantled battery. One
of the culverins which they had tumbled to the ground
was remounted by some of the garrison, "so as they
made a shot at us." The shot did not hit the mark, and
the four boats, with their prize, got clear away to the
Isle of Bastimentos, or Isle of Victuals, about a league
to the westward of the harbour. They stayed there
for the next two days, to cure the wounded men and
to refresh themselves, "in the goodly gardens which we
there found." The island was stocked with dainty roots<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[23]</a></span>
and fruits, "besides great plenty of poultry," for it served
the citizens as a farm and market-garden, "from which
their fresh provisions were derived." Soon after they
had come to anchor, and established themselves among
the fruit-trees, a flag of truce came off from the Governor
of the city. It was carried by a Spanish captain, who
had come to Nombre de Dios with the company of troops
from Panama. He was a handsome gentleman, of a
delicate carriage and of an elaborate politeness. He was
come, of course, as a spy, but he began with the assurance
that he came "of mere good will," to see the heroes who
had attempted the town with so small a party. At the
first, he said, the townsfolk had thought them Frenchmen,
from whom they looked for little mercy, but that afterwards,
when the arrows had shown them that they were
English, they had less fear, for they knew the humanity
of that race. Although, he said, his curiosity to see such
brave folk were sufficient warrant for his adventuring
among them, he had also a commission from the Governor.
That gentleman wished to know whether their captain
was the same Captain Drake, of whom some of the townsfolk
talked as being so kind to his prisoners. He then
asked whether the arrows used in the battle in the Plaza
had been poisoned, for many Spaniards had been wounded
by them, and would fain know how to treat the wounds.
Lastly he wished to know whether they were in need
of victuals or other necessaries, pledging the Governor's
word that he would do all he could to supply anything
they wanted. The questions seem to us a little transparent,
and so they seemed to Drake, but Drake was
always a courteous and ceremonious gentleman. He
replied that he was the Captain Drake they meant; that
"it was never his manner to use poisoned arrows"; that
the wounds could be cured by the usual methods; and
that as for wants, the Isle of Bastimentos would supply<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[24]</a></span>
him. He wanted nothing, he said, "but some of that
special commodity which that country yielded." And,
therefore, he advised the Governor "to hold open his eyes,
for before he departed, if God lent him life and leave, he
meant to reap some of their harvest, which they got out
of the earth, and send into Spain to trouble all the earth."
The answer seems to have nettled the Spanish spy, for he
asked ("if he might, without offence, move such a question")
why the English had left the town when 360 tons of
silver, with gold to a far greater value, had been lying
at their mercy. Drake showed him the "true cause" of
his unwilling retreat to the pinnaces. The answer moved
the Spaniard to remark that "the English had no less
reason in departing, than courage in attempting,"&mdash;a remark
made with a mental note that the townsfolk would be well
advised to leave this Drake alone on his island, without
sending boats out to attack him. Drake then entertained
the spy to dinner, "with great favour and courteous entertainment,
and such gifts as most contented him." As
he made his way to his boat after dinner he vowed and
protested that "he was never so much honoured of any
in his life." He must have had a curious story for the
Governor when he got ashore to the town.</p>

<p>As soon as the trumpets had sounded the departure
of the flag of truce, Drake sent for Diego, the negro, who
had joined the boat party in the morning. From Diego
he learned many "intelligences of importance," none of
them, perhaps, more grateful to Drake than the news that
his name was highly honoured among the Maroons or
Cimmeroons. Diego begged that Drake would give him
an opportunity of treating with the chiefs of these savages,
as by their help, he said, they "might have gold and
silver enough." The matter was debated among the
company, while Drake gave effect to another of his plans.
Not more than thirty miles away along the coast was a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[25]</a></span>
certain river, "the River of Chagres," which trended in
a south-easterly direction towards Panama across the
isthmus. It was navigable to within six leagues of Panama,
and at the point to which it was navigable there stood
"a little town called Venta Cruz." When the road from
Panama to Nombre de Dios was impracticable, owing
to the rains, or the raids of the Maroons, the treasure was
carried to Venta Cruz, and there shipped aboard swift
vessels, built for oars and sails, which carried the precious
stuff to Nombre de Dios. Drake had a mind to look into
Venta Cruz to surprise some of the treasure on its way.
He, therefore, sent away his brother, with two pinnaces and
a steady man named Ellis Hixom, to examine the Chagres
River, and to bring back a report of its fitness for boats
such as theirs. Having seen them stand to the west,
Drake ordered his men aboard early in the morning of
the 31st July. The sweeps were shipped and the sails
hoisted, and the pinnaces made off with their captured
wine ship to rejoin Captain Rause at the Isles of Pines,
or Port Plenty. They arrived at their haven on the
evening of the 1st of August, after a sail of thirty-six
hours. Captain Rause was angry that the raid had not
been more successful, and felt that it was useless to stay
longer in those seas, now that the Spaniards knew that
they were on the coast. He waited till the pinnaces
returned from Chagres River, as some of his hands were
in them; but as soon as they arrived he parted company,
after dissolving partnership with Drake. Drake seems to
have been glad to see him go.</p>



<hr class="chapter" />
<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[26]</a></span></p>
<h2><a name="CHAPTER_III" id="CHAPTER_III"></a>CHAPTER III</h2>

<h3>THE CRUISE OFF THE MAIN</h3>

<div class="blockquot"><p>The cruise of the pinnaces&mdash;Cartagena&mdash;The secret haven&mdash;Death
of John Drake</p></div>


<p>While they were waiting for the pinnaces Drake
had the ships set in order, the arms scoured, and
everything made ready for the next adventure. He had
taken Nombre de Dios so easily that he felt confident
of treating Cartagena, the chiefest town in those waters,
in the same way. On the 7th of August he set sail
for Cartagena with his two ships and three pinnaces,
making no attempt upon the mainland as he sailed, as
he did not wish to be discovered. He met with calms
and light airs on the passage, and did not arrive off
Cartagena until the evening of the 13th August. He
came to anchor in seven-fathom water between the islands
of Charesha (which we cannot now identify) and St
Barnards, now known as San Barnardo. As soon as the
sails were furled, Drake manned his three pinnaces, and
rowed about the island into the harbour of Cartagena,
"where, at the very entry, he found a frigate at anchor."
He hooked on to her chains, and boarded her, finding
her an easy spoil, for she had been left in the care of
"only one old man." They asked this old sailor where
the rest of the company had gone. He answered that
they were gone ashore in their gundeloe that evening,
to fight about a mistress, adding that about two hours
before, a pinnace had gone past under sail, with her oars
out, and the men rowing furiously. Her men had hailed<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[27]</a></span>
his vessel as they passed, asking whether any French
or English men had been there. Upon answer that there
had been none they bade him look to himself, and
rowed on up the coast. Within an hour of their going
past the harbour the city batteries had fired many cannon,
as though some danger were toward. One of the old man's
mates had then gone aloft "to descry what might be the
cause." He had looked over the narrow neck of land
which shuts the harbour from the sea, and had espied
"divers frigates and small shipping bringing themselves
within the Castle." This report showed Drake that he
had been discovered, but the information did not greatly
move him. He gathered from the old mariner that a
great ship of Seville lay moored just round the next point,
with her yards across, "being bound the next morning for
St Domingo," or Hispaniola. Drake "took this old man
into his pinnace to verify that which he had informed,
and rowed towards this ship." As he drew near, the
Spanish mariners hailed them, asking "whence the shallops
came." Drake answered: "From Nombre de Dios." His
answer set the Spaniards cursing and damning him for
a heretic English buccaneer. "We gave no heed to their
words," says the narrative, but hooked on to the chains
and ports, on the starboard bow, starboard quarter, and
port beam, and laid her aboard without further talk.
It was something of a task to get on board, for the ship
stood high in the water, being of 240 tons, (and as
far as we can judge) in ballast. Having gained the ship's
waist they tossed the gratings and hatch covers down
into the lower decks. The Spaniards gave up the ship
without fighting, and retired, with their weapons, to the
hold. Two or three of their younger seamen went forward,
and hid in the manger, where they were found as
soon as the dark decks were lit by a lantern from the
pinnaces. The raiders then cut the ship's cables, and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[28]</a></span>
towed her "without the island into the sound right afore
the town," just beyond the shot of the citizens' great
guns. As they towed her out, the town took the alarm,
the bells were rung, thirty great cannon were fired, and
the garrison, both horse and foot, well armed with
calivers, marched down "to the very point of the wood,"
to impeach them "if they might" in their going out to
sea. The next morning (Drake being still within the
outer harbour) he captured two Spanish frigates "in which
there were two, who called themselves King's Scrivanos
[notaries] the one of Cartagena, the other of Veragua."
The boats, which were sparsely manned, had been at
Nombre de Dios at the time of the raid. They were
now bound for Cartagena with double letters of advice,
"to certify that Captain Drake had been at Nombre
de Dios, and taken it; and had it not been that he was
hurt with some blessed shot, by all likelihood he had
sacked it. He was yet still upon the coast," ran the
letter, "and they should therefore carefully prepare for
him."</p>

<p>Sailing out of the haven (by the Boca Chica, or Little
Mouth) Drake set his pinnaces ashore, and stood
<ins class="correction" title="Transcriber's Note: original reads 'awayto'">away to</ins>
the San Barnardo Islands, to the south of the town, where
he found "great store of fish" as a change of diet for his
men. He then cruised up and down among the islands,
considering what he should attempt. He had been discovered
at the two chief cities on the Main, but he had
not yet made his voyage (<i>i.e.</i> it had not yet paid expenses),
and until he had met with the Maroons, and
earned "a little comfortable dew of Heaven," he meant
to stay upon the coast. He, therefore, planned to diminish
his squadron, for with the two ships to keep it was difficult
to man the pinnaces, and the pinnaces had proved peculiarly
fitted for the work in hand. With one ship destroyed,
and the other converted into a storeship, his movements<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[29]</a></span>
would, he thought, be much less hampered; "but knowing
the affection of his company, how loath they were to
leave either of their ships, being both so good sailers
and so well furnished; he purposed in himself some policy
to make them most willing to effect what he intended."
He, therefore, sent for Thomas Moone, who was carpenter
aboard the <i>Swan</i>, and held a conference with him in
the cabin. Having pledged him to secrecy, he gave him
an order to scuttle that swift little ship in the middle
of the second watch, or two in the morning. He was
"to go down secretly into the well of the ship, and with
a spike-gimlet to bore three holes, as near the keel as
he could, and lay something against it [oakum or the
like] that the force of the water entering, might make
no great noise, nor be discovered by a boiling up."
Thomas Moone "at the hearing hereof" was utterly
dismayed, for to him the project seemed flat burglary
as ever was committed. Why, he asked, should the
Captain want to sink so good a ship, a ship both "new
and strong," in which they had sailed together in two
"rich and gainfull" voyages? If the Captain's brother
(John Drake, who was master of the <i>Swan</i>) and the
rest of the company (twenty-six hands in all) should catch
him at such practices he thought verily they would heave
him overboard. However, Drake promised that the matter
should be kept secret "till all of them should be glad
of it." On these terms Moone consented to scuttle the
<i>Swan</i> that night.</p>

<p>The next morning, a little after daybreak, Drake called
away his pinnace, "proposing to go a-fishing." Rowing
down to the <i>Swan</i> he hailed her, asking his brother to
go with him. John Drake was in his bunk at the time,
and replied that "he would follow presently," or if it would
please him to stay a very little he would attend him.
Drake saw that the deed was done; for the <i>Swan</i> was<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[30]</a></span>
slowly settling. He would not stay for his brother, but
asked casually, "as making no great account of it,"
why their barque was so deep in the sea. John Drake
thought little of the question, but sent a man down to
the steward, who had charge of the hold, to inquire
"whether there were any water in the ship, or what other
cause might be?" The steward, "hastily stepping down
at his usual scuttle," was wet to the waist before he
reached the foot of the ladder. Very greatly scared he
hurried out of the hold, "as if the water had followed
him," crying out that the ship was full of water. John
Drake at once called all hands to mend ship, sending
some below to find the leak and the remainder to the
pumps. The men turned to "very willingly," so that
"there was no need to hasten them," and John Drake
left them at their work while he reported the "strange
chance" to his brother. He could not understand how
it had happened. They had not pumped twice in six
weeks before, and now they had six feet of water in
the hold. He hoped his brother would give him "leave
from attending him in fishing," as he wished to find the
leak without delay. Drake offered to send the <i>Pascha's</i>
men abroad to take a spell at the pumps, but this John
Drake did not wish. He had men enough, he said;
and he would like his brother to continue his fishing,
so that they might have fresh fish for dinner. On getting
back to the <i>Swan</i> he found that the pumps had gained
very little on the leak, "yet such was their love to the
bark, ... that they ceased not, but to the utmost of their
strength laboured all that they might, till three in the
afternoon." By that time the <i>Pascha's</i> men, helped by
Drake himself, had taken turn about at the pump brakes,
and the pumping had been carried on for eight or nine
hours without ceasing. The pumping had freed her only
about a foot and a half, and the leak was still undiscovered.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[31]</a></span>
The men were tired out, for the sun was now at his hottest,
and Drake adds slyly that they "had now a less liking
of her than before, and greater content to hear of some
means for remedy." We gather from what follows, that
when he asked them what they wished to do, they left
it all to him. He, therefore, suggested that John Drake
should go aboard the <i>Pascha</i> as her captain. He himself,
he said, would shift into a pinnace; while the <i>Swan</i> should
be set on fire, and abandoned as soon as her gear was
taken out of her. The pinnaces came aboard the sinking
ship, and the men pillaged her of all her stores. Powder,
tar, and the like were scattered about her decks; and
she was then set on fire, and watched until she sank.
Thus "our Captain had his desire, and men enough for
his pinnaces."</p>

<p>The next morning, the 16th August, the squadron bore
away for the Gulf of Darien, to find some secret harbour
where they might leave the ship at anchor, "not discoverable
by the enemy," who thereby might imagine them
quite departed from the coast. Drake intended to take
two of the pinnaces along the Main as soon as they had
hidden away the <i>Pascha</i>, for he was minded to go a cruise
up the Rio Grande, or Magdalena River. In his absence
John Drake was to take the third pinnace, with Diego,
the negro, as a guide, to open up communications with
the Cimmeroons. By the 21st of August they arrived
in the Gulf; and Drake sought out a secret anchorage, far
from any trade route, where the squadron might lie quietly
till the fame of their being on the coast might cease.
They found a place suited to their needs, and dropped
their anchors in its secret channels, in "a fit and convenient
road," where a sailor might take his ease over a
rum bowl. Drake took his men ashore, and cleared a
large plot of ground "both of trees and brakes" as a site
for a little village, trimly thatched with palm leaves, which<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[32]</a></span>
was built by Diego, the negro, after the Indian fashion,
for the "more comfort of the company." The archers
made themselves butts to shoot at, because they had
"many that delighted in that exercise and wanted not
a fletcher to keep the bows and arrows in order." The
rest of the company, "every one as he liked best," disported
merrily at bowls and quoits, fleeting the time
carelessly as they did in the Golden Age. "For our
Captain allowed one half of the company to pass their
time thus, every other day interchangeable," the other
half of the crew being put to the provision of fresh food
and the necessary work aboard the vessels. Drake took
especial interest in trying the powers of the pinnaces,
trimming them in every conceivable way, so as to learn
their capacity under any circumstance. The smiths set
up their forge, "being furnished out of England with anvil,
iron, and coals" (surely Drake never forgot anything),
which stood the expedition "in great stead," for, no doubt,
there was much iron-work that needed repair. The
country swarmed with conies, hogs, deer, and fowl, so
that the men lived upon fresh meat, or upon the fish in
the creeks, "whereof there was great plenty." The woods
were full of wholesome fruits, though, perhaps, the water
of the neighbouring rivers was not quite all that could
be wished. They stayed in this pleasant haven for fifteen
days, at the end of which Drake took his two pinnaces,
leaving John Drake behind in charge of the <i>Pascha</i>
and the remaining pinnace, and sailed away along the
coast to explore the Rio Grande. He kept the pinnaces
far out at sea to avoid discovery, and landed on the 8th of
September about six miles to the westward of the river's
mouth, in order to obtain some fresh beef from the Indian
cowherds. The district was then rich pasture-land, as
rich as the modern pastures in Argentina. It was grazed
over by vast herds of cattle, savage and swift, which the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[33]</a></span>
Spaniards placed in charge of Indian cowboys. When
the beeves were slaughtered, their meat was dried into
charqui, or "boucanned," over a slow fire, into which the
hide was thrown. It was then sent down to Cartagena,
for the provisioning of the galleons going home. The
province (Nueva Reyna) was less pestilential than its
westward neighbours. Sugar was grown there in the
semi-marshy tracts near the river. Gold was to be found
there in considerable quantities, and there were several
pearl fisheries upon the coasts. The district was more
populous than any part of Spanish America, for it was
not only healthier, but more open, affording little cover
for Maroons.</p>

<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;">
<a name="img051" id="img051"></a>
<a href="https://brian.carnell.com/wiki/_media/etext:j:john-masefield-on-the-spanish-main-051.jpg"><img src="https://brian.carnell.com/wiki/_media/etext:j:john-masefield-on-the-spanish-main-051_th.jpg" width="400" height="300"
alt="CARTAGENA" title="CARTAGENA" /></a>
<span class="caption">CARTAGENA</span>
</div>

<p>On landing, Drake met some Indians in charge of
a herd of steers. They asked him in broken Spanish
"What they would have." Drake gave them to understand
that he wished to buy some fresh meat, upon which
they picked out several cattle "with ease and so readily,
as if they had a special commandment over them, whereas
they would not abide us to come near them." The Indians
have just that skill in handling cattle which the negroes
have in handling mules. They did Drake this service
willingly, "because our Captain, according to his custom,
contented them for their pains with such things as they
account greatly of." He left them in high good humour,
promising him that if he came again he should have what
he desired of them. Drake left the shore as soon as his
pinnaces were laden with fresh meat, and sailed on up the
coast till he reached the lesser, or western, mouth of the
Rio Grande, "where we entered about three of the clock."
The river runs with a great fierceness, so that the hands
were able to draw fresh water "for their beverage" a mile
and a half from the mouth. It was a current almost too
fierce to row against in the hot sun, so that five hours'
hard rowing only brought them six miles on their way<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[34]</a></span>
upstream. They then moored the pinnaces to a great
tree that grew on the bank. They ate their suppers in
that place, hoping to pass a quiet evening, but with the
darkness there came such a terrible thunderstorm "as
made us not a little to marvel at," though Drake assured
the younger men that in that country such storms soon
passed. It wetted them to the bone, no doubt, but within
three-quarters of an hour it had blown over and become
calm. Immediately the rain had ceased, the air began
to hum with many wings, and forth came "a kind of flies
of that country, called mosquitoes, like our gnats," which
bit them spitefully as they lay in the bottoms of the
boats. It was much too hot to lie beneath a blanket, and
the men did not know how to kindle a "smudge" of
smouldering aromatic leaves. They had no pork fat
nor paraffin to rub upon their hands and faces, according
to the modern practice, and "the juice of lemons," which
gave them a little relief, must have been a poor substitute.
"We could not rest all that night," says the narrative.
At daybreak the next morning they rowed away from that
place, "rowing in the eddy" along the banks, where the
current helped them. Where the eddy failed, as in swift and
shallow places, they hauled the boats up with great labour
by making a hawser fast to a tree ahead, and hauling up
to it, as on a guess-warp. The work of rowing, or warping,
was done by spells, watch and watch, "each company
their half-hour glass," till about three in the afternoon,
by which time they had come some fifteen miles. They
passed two Indians who sat in a canoe a-fishing; but the
Indians took them to be Spaniards, and Drake let them
think so, for he did not wish to be discovered. About an
hour later they espied "certain houses on the other side
of the river," a mile or so from them, the river being
very broad&mdash;so great, says the narrative, "that a man can
scantly be discerned from side to side." A Spaniard,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[35]</a></span>
who had charge of those houses, espied them from the
vantage of the bank, and promptly kindled a smoke "for
a signal to turn that way," being lonely up there in the
wilds, and anxious for news of the world. As they rowed
across the current to him he waved to them "with his
hat and his long hanging sleeves" to come ashore, but
as soon as he perceived them to be foreigners he took to
his heels, and fled from the river-side. The adventurers
found that he was a sort of store or warehouse keeper, in
charge of five houses "all full of white rusk, dried bacon,
that country cheese (like Holland cheese in fashion&mdash;<i>i.e.</i>
round&mdash;but far more delicate in taste, of which they send
into Spain as special presents), many sorts of sweetmeats,
and conserves; with great store of sugar: being provided
to serve the fleet returning to Spain." As they loaded
their pinnaces with these provisions they talked with a
poor Indian woman, who told them that about thirty
trading vessels were expected from Cartagena. The news
caused them to use despatch in their lading, so that by
nightfall they were embarked again, and rowing downstream
against the wind. The Spaniards of Villa del
Rey, a city some two miles inland from the storehouses,
endeavoured to hinder their passage by marching their
Indians to the bushes on the river-bank, and causing
them to shoot their arrows as the boats rowed past. They
did not do any damage to the adventurers, who rowed
downstream a few miles, and then moored their boats
for the night. Early the next morning they reached the
mouth of the river, and here they hauled ashore to put
the pinnaces in trim. The provisions were unloaded, and
the boats thoroughly cleansed, after which the packages
were stowed securely, so as to withstand the tossings of
the seas. The squadron then proceeded to the westward,
going out of their course for several miles in order to
overhaul a Spanish barque. They "imagined she had<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[36]</a></span>
some gold or treasure going for Spain," but on search in
her hold they could find only sugar and hides. They,
therefore, let her go, and stood off again for the secret
harbour. The next day they took some five or six small
frigates, bound from Santiago de Tolu to Cartagena, with
ladings of "live hogs, hens, and maize, which we call
Guinea wheat." They examined the crews of these ships
for news "of their preparations for us," and then dismissed
them, reserving only two of the half-dozen prizes "because
they were so well stored with good victuals." Three days
later they arrived at the hidden anchorage, which Drake
called Port Plenty, because of abundance of "good victuals"
that they took while lying there. Provision ships were
passing continually, either to Nombre de Dios or Cartagena,
with food for the citizens or for the victualling of
the plate fleets. "So that if we had been two thousand,
yea, three thousand, persons, we might with our pinnaces
easily have provided them sufficient victuals of wine,
meal, rusk, cassavi (a kind of bread made of a root called
Yucca, whose juice is poison, but the substance good and
wholesome), dried beef, dried fish, live sheep, live hogs,
abundance of hens, besides the infinite store of dainty
fresh fish, very easily to be taken every day." So much
food was taken, that the company, under the direction of
Diego, the negro, were forced to build "four several magazines
or storehouses, some ten, some twenty leagues
asunder," on the Main, or on the islands near it, for its
storage. They intended to stay upon the coast until
their voyage was "made," and, therefore, needed magazines
of the kind for the future plenishing of their lazarettoes.
We read that Diego, the negro, was of special service to
them in the building of these houses, for, like all the
Maroons, he was extremely skilful at the craft. They
were probably huts of mud and wattle, thatched with
palm leaves, "with a Sort of Door made of Macaw-Wood,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[37]</a></span>
and Bamboes." From these magazines Drake relieved
two French ships "in extreme want"; while his men and
their allies the Cimmeroons lived at free quarters all the
time they stayed there.</p>

<p>While the Captain had been cruising up the Magdalena,
his brother, John Drake, had been westward along the
coast with Diego, "the Negro aforesaid," in his pinnace.
Diego had landed on the coast to talk with "certain of
the Cimmeroons," who exchanged hostages with Drake's
party, and agreed upon a meeting-place at a little river
midway between the Cabezas, or "Headlands," and the
anchorage. Drake talked with these hostages as soon
as he arrived from the seas. He found them two "very
sensible men," most ready to help him against the
common enemy. They told him that "their Nation
conceited great joy of his arrivall"; for they had heard of
Nombre de Dios and of his former raids upon the coast,
and gladly welcomed the suggested alliance. Their chief
and tribe, they said, were encamped near the aforementioned
little river, the Rio Diego, to await Drake's
decision. Having compared the talk of these men with
the reports he had gathered from the Indian cowherds
and Spanish prisoners, he consulted his brother (who had
seen the Maroons at the Rio Diego camp), and asked
"those of best service with him" what were fittest to
be done. John Drake advised that the ships should
proceed to the westward, to the Rio Diego, for near
the mouth of that stream he had discovered a choice
hiding-place. It could be reached by many channels, but
only by the most careful pilotage, for the channels were
full of rocks and shoals. The channels twisted sluggishly
among a multitude of islands, which were gorgeous with
rhododendron shrubs, and alive with butterflies, blue and
scarlet, that sunned themselves, in blots of colour, upon
the heavy green leaves. Among the blossomed branches<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[38]</a></span>
there were parrots screaming, and the little hummingbirds,
like flying jewels, darting from flower to flower.
Up above them the great trees towered, shutting out the
sight of the sea, so that a dozen ships might have lain
in that place without being observed from the open water.
The description of this hiding-place moved Drake to
proceed thither at once with his two pinnaces, the two
Maroons, and his brother John, giving orders for the ship
to follow the next morning. The pinnaces arrived there
the next day, and found the Cimmeroons encamped there,
some of them at the river's mouth, the others "in a wood
by the river's side." A solemn feast was prepared, at
which the Maroons gave "good testimonies of their joy
and good will" towards the adventurers. After the feast,
the tribe marched away to the Rio Guana, intending to
meet with another tribe, at that time camped among the
hills. The pinnaces returned from Rio Diego, wondering
why the ship had not arrived, and anxious for her safety.
They found her, on the 16th September, in the place
where they had left her, "but in far other state," for a
tempest had set her on her side, and sorely spoiled her
trim, so that it took two days to repair the damage done.
A pinnace was then despatched to the Rio Diego anchorage,
to go "amongst the shoals and sandy places, to
sound out the channel." On the 19th of September the
<i>Pascha</i> was warily piloted to moorings, "with much ado to
recover the road among so many flats and shoals." Her
berth was about five leagues from the Cativaas, or Catives,
"betwixt an island and the Main"&mdash;the island being about
half-a-mile from the shore, some three acres in extent,
"flat, and very full of trees and bushes."</p>

<p>The anchors were hardly in the ground, when the
friendly tribe of Cimmeroons appeared upon the shore,
with several others whom they had met in the mountains.
They were all fetched aboard, "to their great comfort and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[39]</a></span>
our content," and a council was held forthwith. Drake
then asked the chiefs how they could help him to obtain
some gold and silver. They replied that nothing could be
done for another five months, because the autumn, the
rainy season, was upon them, during which time no
treasure would be moved from Panama. Had they known
that he wanted gold, they said, they would have satisfied
him, for they had taken a great store from the Spaniards
in a foray, and had flung it into the rivers, which were
now too high for them to hope to recover it by diving.
He must, therefore, wait, they said, till the rains had
ceased in the coming March, when they could attack a
treasure train together. The answer was a little unexpected,
but not unpleasant, for Drake was willing to
remain on the coast for another year if need were. He
at once resolved to build himself a fort upon the island,
"for the planting of all our ordnance therein, and for our
safeguard, if the enemy in all this time, should chance
to come." The Cimmeroons cut down a number of
Palmito boughs and branches, and soon had two large
sheds built, both trim and watertight, for the housing of
the company. The boats were then sent ashore to the
Main to bring over timber for the building of the fortress.
This stronghold was built in the shape of a triangle, with
a deep ditch all round it.</p>

<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;">
<a name="img067" id="img067"></a>
<a href="https://brian.carnell.com/wiki/_media/etext:j:john-masefield-on-the-spanish-main-067.jpg"><img src="https://brian.carnell.com/wiki/_media/etext:j:john-masefield-on-the-spanish-main-067_th.jpg" width="500" height="367"
alt="CARTAGENA IN 1586, SHOWING THE DOUBLE HARBOUR; THE SHIP IN THE FOREGROUND MAY BE DRAKE&#39;S FLAGSHIP, THE _BONAVENTURE_"
title="CARTAGENA IN 1586, SHOWING THE DOUBLE HARBOUR" /></a>
<span class="caption">CARTAGENA IN 1586, SHOWING THE DOUBLE HARBOUR<br />
THE SHIP IN THE FOREGROUND MAY BE DRAKE'S FLAGSHIP, THE <i>BONAVENTURE</i></span>
</div>

<p>The building was a full thirteen feet in height, built of
tree boles from the Main, with earth from the trench to
take the place of mortar. The ship's guns were hoisted
out of the ship and rafted over to the fortress, and there
mounted at the embrasures. For platforms for the guns
they used the planks of one of the frigates captured near
Cartagena. When the heavy work of lumber handling
had been finished, but before the fort was ready for use,
Drake took John Oxenham, with two of the pinnaces,
upon a cruise to the east. He feared that a life of ease<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[40]</a></span>
ashore would soon make his mariners discontented and
eager to be home. It was, therefore, necessary to invent
distractions for them. Instead of going at once towards
his quarry he sailed along leisurely, close to the coast,
stopping a night at one little island for a feast on a kind
of bird like spur-kites, the flesh of which was very
delicate. He stopped another night at another island,
because "of a great kind of shellfish of a foot long," which
the company called whelks. As soon as these delectable
islands had been left astern, the pinnaces "hauled off into
the sea," across the bright, sunny water, blue and flashing,
gleaming with the silver arrows of the flying-fish, in order
to make the Isles of San Barnardo. They chased two
frigates ashore before they came to moorings, after which
they scrubbed and trimmed their boats, spent a day
fishing from the rocks, and set sail again for Santiago de
Tolu. Here they landed in a garden, close to the city, to
the delight of some Indians who were working there.
After bargaining together for the garden stuff the
Indians left their bows and arrows with the sailors while
they ran to pluck "many sorts of dainty fruits and roots,"
such as the garden yielded. Drake paid for the green
stuff, and had it taken aboard, after inquiring strictly as
to the state of the country and the plate fleets. The
company then rowed away for Cartagena, eating their
"mellions and winter cherries" with a good appetite.
They rowed through the Boca Chica, or Little Mouth,
into the splendid harbour, where they set sail, "having the
wind large," towards the inner haven and the city. They
anchored "right over against the goodly Garden Island,"
where the fruit was a sore temptation to the seamen, who
longed to rob the trees. Drake would not allow them to
land, for he feared an ambush, and, indeed, a few hours
later, as they passed by the point of the island, they were
fired at from the orchards with "a volley of a hundred<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[41]</a></span>
shot," one of which wounded a sailor. There was little to
be done in the harbour, so they put to sea again. They
took a barque the next morning about six miles from the
port. She was a ship of fifty tons, laden with soap and
sweetmeats, bound from St Domingo towards Cartagena.
She was armed with "swords, targets and some small
shot, besides four iron bases." Her captain and passengers
had slipped ashore in the boat as soon as they had spied
the pinnaces, but the captain's silken flag, woven in
colours, with his coat-of-arms, had been left behind as a
spoil. Having sent her company ashore, "saving a young
Negro two or three years old, which we brought away,"
they sailed her into Cartagena harbour, with the pinnaces
towing astern. They anchored at the mouth of the inner
haven to await events. During the afternoon the Scrivano,
or King's notary, aforementioned, rode down "to the
point by the wood side" with a little troop of horsemen.
The Scrivano displayed a flag of truce, and came aboard, to
worry Drake with his oily lawyer's manner and elaborate,
transparent lies. He promised to obtain fresh meat for
him as a slight return for "his manifold favours, etc." but
Drake saw that it was but a plot of the Governor's to keep
him in the port till they could trap him. He thanked the
supple liar, kept a good lookout throughout the night, and
stood to sea as soon as the sun rose. He took two frigates
the next day, just outside the harbour. They were small
boats in ballast, one of twelve, one of fifty tons, bound for
St Domingo. He brought them to anchor in a bravery,
"within saker shot of the east Bulwark," and then dismissed
their mariners ashore. On the 21st October, the
morning after this adventure, the Spaniards sent a flag of
truce to the headland at the mouth of the Boca Chica.
Drake manned one of his pinnaces, and rowed ashore to
see what they wanted. When about 200 yards from
the point the Spaniards fled into the wood, as though<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[42]</a></span>
afraid of the boat's guns&mdash;hoping, no doubt, that Drake
would follow, and allow them to ambush him. Drake
dropped his grapnel over the stern of the pinnace, and
veered the boat ashore, little by little, till the bows grated
on the sand. As she touched he leaped boldly ashore, in
sight of the Spanish troops, "to declare that he durst set
his foot a land." The Spaniards seem to have made a rush
towards him, whereupon he got on board again, bade his
men warp the boat out by the cable, and "rid awhile,"
some 100 yards from the shore, in the smooth green
water, watching the fish finning past the weeds. Seeing
that Drake was less foolish than they had hoped, the
Spaniards came out upon the sands, at the edge of the
wood, and bade one of their number take his clothes off,
to swim to the boat with a message. The lad stripped,
and swam off to the boat, "as with a Message from the
Governor," asking them why they had come to the coast,
and why they stayed there. Drake replied that he had
come to trade, "for he had tin, pewter, cloth, and other
merchandise that they needed," with which reply the
youth swam back to the soldiers. After some talk upon
the sands, the men-at-arms sent him back with an answer.
"The King," they said, "had forbidden them to traffic
with any foreign nation, for any commodities, except
powder and shot; of which, if he had any store, they
would be his merchants." Drake answered that he had
come all the way from England to exchange his commodities
for gold and silver, and had little will to return
"without his errand." He told them that, in his opinion,
they were "like to have little rest" if they would not
traffic with him fairly in the way of business. He then
gave the messenger "a fair shirt for a reward," and
despatched him back to his masters. The lad rolled the
shirt about his head in the Indian fashion, and swam back
"very speedily," using, perhaps, the swift Indian stroke.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[43]</a></span>
He did not return that day, though Drake waited for him
until sunset, when the pinnace pulled slowly back to the
two frigates, "within saker shot [or three-quarters of a
mile] of the east Bulwark." The adventurers lay there all
that night, expecting to be attacked. The guns were
loaded, and cartridges made ready, and a strict lookout
was kept. At dawn they saw two sails running down
towards them from the Boca Chica on a fresh easterly
breeze. Drake manned his two pinnaces, leaving the
frigates empty, expecting to have a fight for their possession.
Before he came within gunshot of the Spaniards he
had to use his oars, for the wind fell, thereby lessening the
advantage the Spanish had. As the boats neared each
other Drake's mariners "saw many heads peeping over
board" along the gunwales of the enemy. They perceived
then that the two ships had been manned to occupy
Drake's attention, while another squadron made a dash
from the town, "from the eastern Bulwark," to retake his
two prizes. But Drake "prevented both their drifts."
He bade John Oxenham remain there with the one
pinnace, "to entertain these two Men of war," while he,
with the other, rowed furiously back to the two prizes.
Quick as he had been the Spaniards had been quicker.
They had rowed out in a large canoe, which had made
two trips, so that one frigate was now full of Spaniards,
who had cut her cables, while the canoe towed her towards
the batteries. As Drake ranged up alongside, the towline
was cast adrift by the men in the canoe; while the gallants
on the deck leaped overboard, to swim ashore, leaving
their rapiers, guns, and powder flasks behind them. Drake
watched them swim out of danger, and then set the larger
ship on fire. The smaller of the two he scuttled where she
lay, "giving them to understand by this, that we perceived
their secret practices." As soon as the frigates were
disposed of, the pinnace returned to John Oxenham, who<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[44]</a></span>
was lying to by the two men-of-war, waiting for them to
open fire. As the Captain's pinnace drew near, the
wind shifted to the north, and blew freshly, so that both
the English boats, being to shoreward of the enemy, were
forced to run before it, into the harbour, "to the great joy
of the Spaniards," who thought they were running away.
Directly they were past the point, "and felt smooth water,"
they obtained the weather-gage, exchanged a few shots,
and dropped their anchors, keeping well to windward of
the enemy. The Spaniards also anchored; but as the wind
freshened into "a norther" they thought it best to put
ashore, and, therefore, retired to the town.</p>

<p>For the next four days it blew very hard from the west,
with cold rain squalls, to the great discomfort of all hands,
who could keep neither warm nor dry. On the fifth day
(27th October) a frigate came in from the sea, and they
at once attacked her, hoping to find shelter aboard her
after the four days of wet and cold. The Spaniards ran
her ashore on the point by the Boca Chica, "unhanging
her rudder and taking away her sails, that she might not
easily be carried away." However, the boats dashed
alongside, intending to board her. As they came alongside,
a company of horse and foot advanced on to the
sands from the woods, opening fire on them as soon as
they had formed. The pinnaces replied with their muskets
and heavy guns, sending a shot "so near a brave cavalier"
that the whole party retreated to the coverts. From the
thick brush they were able to save the frigate from
capture without danger to themselves; so Drake abandoned
her, and set to sea again, in the teeth of the gale, intending
to win to Las Serenas, some rocks six miles to
sea, off which he thought he could anchor, with his
masts down, until the weather moderated. But when
he arrived off the rocks, a mighty sea was beating over
them, so that he had to run back to Cartagena, where he<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[45]</a></span>
remained six days, "notwithstanding the Spaniards grieved
greatly at our abode there so long."</p>

<p>On the 2nd of November the Governor of Cartagena
made a determined attempt to destroy him or drive him
out to sea. He manned three vessels&mdash;"a great shallop,
a fine gundeloe and a great canoe"&mdash;with Spanish
musketeers and Indians with poisoned arrows. These
attacked with no great spirit, for as soon as the pinnaces
advanced they retreated, and presently "went ashore into
the woods," from which an ambush "of some sixty shot"
opened a smart fire. As the ambush began to blaze away
from the bushes, Drake saw that two pinnaces and a
frigate, manned with musketeers and archers, were warping
towards him from the town, in the teeth of the wind.
As this second line of battle neared the scene of action, the
Spaniards left the ambush in the wood, and ran down the
sands to the gundeloe and canoe, which they manned, and
again thrust from the shore. Drake then stood away into
the haven, out of shot of the shore guns, and cast anchor
in the great open space, with the two pinnaces lying close
together, one immediately ahead of the other. He rigged
the sides of the pinnaces with bonnets, the narrow lengths
of canvas which were laced to the feet of sails to give them
greater spread. With these for his close-fights, or war-girdles,
he waved to the Spaniards to attack. They rowed
up cheering, all five boats of them, "assuring their fellows
of the day." Had they pushed the attack home, the issue
might have been different, but the sight of the close-fights
frightened them. They lay on their oars "at caliver-shot
distance," and opened a smart musketry fire, "spending
powder apace," without pausing, for two or three hours.
One man was wounded on Drake's side. The Spanish
loss could not be told, but Drake's men could plainly see
that the Spanish pinnaces had been shot through and
through. One lucky shot went into a Spanish powder<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[46]</a></span>
tub, which thereupon exploded. Drake at once weighed
anchor, intending to run them down while they were in
confusion. He had the wind of them, and would have
been able to do this without difficulty, but they did not
wait his coming. They got to their oars in a hurry, and
rowed to their defence in the woods&mdash;the fight being at an
end before the frigate could warp to windward into action.</p>

<p>Being weary of these continual fruitless tussles, "and
because our victuals grew scant," Drake sailed from the
port the following morning, in slightly better weather,
hoping to get fresh provisions at the Rio Grande, where
he had met with such abundance a few days before. The
wind was still fresh from the west, so that he could not
rejoin his ship nor reach one of his magazines. He took
two days in sailing to the Magdalena, but when he arrived
there he found the country stripped. "We found bare
nothing, not so much as any people left," for the Spaniards
had ordered everyone to retire to the hills, driving their
cattle with them, "that we might not be relieved by them."
The outlook was now serious, for there was very little food
left, and that of most indifferent quality, much of it being
spoiled by the rains and the salt water. On the day of
their landfall they rowed hard for several hours to capture
a frigate, but she was as bare of food as they. "She had
neither meat nor money," and so "our great hope" was
"converted into grief." Sailors get used to living upon
short allowance. The men tightened their belts to stay
their hunger, and splashed salt water on their chests to
allay their thirst. They ran for Santa Martha, a little city
to the east, where they hoped "to find some shipping in
the road, or limpets on the rocks, or succour against the
storm in that good harbour." They found no shipping
there, however, and little succour against the storm.
They anchored "under the western point, where is high
land," but they could not venture in, for the town was<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[47]</a></span>
strongly fortified (later raiders were less squeamish). The
Spaniards had seen them come to moorings, and managed
to send some thirty or forty musketeers among the rocks,
within gunshot of them. These kept up a continual
musket fire, which did bodily hurt to none, but proved
a sad annoyance to sailors who were wearied and out
of victuals. They found it impossible to reply to the
musketry, for the rocks hid the musketeers from view.
There was nothing for it but to "up kedge and cut," in
the hope of finding some less troublous berth. As they
worked across the Santa Martha bay the culverins in the
city batteries opened fire. One shot "made a near
escape," for it fell between the pinnaces as they lay
together in "conference of what was best to be done."</p>

<p>The company were inclined to bring the cruise to an
end, and begged that they might "put themselves a land,
some place to the Eastward, to get victuals." They
thought it would be better to trust to the courtesy of
the country people than to keep the seas as they were,
in the cold and heavy weather, with a couple of leaky,
open boats. Drake disliked this advice, and recommended
that they should run on for Rio de la Hacha, or even as
far as Cura&ccedil;oa, where they would be likely to meet with
victual ships indifferently defended. The men aboard
John Oxenham's pinnace answered that they would
willingly follow him throughout the world, but they
did not see, they said, how the pinnaces could stand
such weather as they had had. Nor did they see how
they were going to live with such little food aboard,
for they had "only one gammon of bacon and thirty
pounds of biscuit for eighteen men"&mdash;a bare two days'
half allowance. Drake replied that they were better off
than he was, "who had but one gammon of bacon and
forty pounds of biscuit for his twenty-four men; and
therefore [he went on] he doubted not but they would<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[48]</a></span>
take such part as he did, and willingly depend upon
God's Almighty providence, which never faileth them
that trust in Him." He did not wait for any further
talk, but hoisted his fore-sail and put his helm up for
Cura&ccedil;oa, knowing that the other pinnace would not refuse
to follow him. With "sorrowful hearts in respect of the
weak pinnace, yet desirous to follow their captain," the
weary crew stood after him on the same course. They
had not gone more than three leagues when, lo!&mdash;balm
in Gilead&mdash;"a sail plying to the westward" under her foresail
and main-sail. There was "great joy" in that hunger-bitten
company, who promptly "vowed together, that we
would have her, or else it should cost us dear." Coming
up with her they found her to be a Spanish ship of more
than ninety tons. Drake "waved amain" to her, the usual
summons to surrender; but she "despised our summons,"
and at once opened fire on them, but without success, for
the sea was running very high. The sea was too high
for them to board her, so they set small storm-sails, and
stood in chase, intending to "keep her company to her
small content till fairer weather might lay the sea." They
followed her for two hours, when "it pleased God" to
send a great shower, which, of course, beat down the sea
into "a reasonable calm," so that they could pepper her
with their guns "and approach her at pleasure." She
made but a slight resistance after that, and "in short
time we had taken her; finding her laden with victuals
well powdered [salted] and dried: which at that present
we received as sent us of God's great mercy."</p>

<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;">
<a name="img078" id="img078"></a>
<a href="https://brian.carnell.com/wiki/_media/etext:j:john-masefield-on-the-spanish-main-078.jpg"><img src="https://brian.carnell.com/wiki/_media/etext:j:john-masefield-on-the-spanish-main-078_th.jpg" width="400" height="289"
alt="AN ELIZABETHAN WAR-SHIP; A PINNACE BEYOND, TO THE LEFT"
title="AN ELIZABETHAN WAR-SHIP" /></a>
<span class="caption">AN ELIZABETHAN WAR-SHIP<br />
A PINNACE BEYOND, TO THE LEFT</span>
</div>

<p>After a stormy night at sea, Drake sent Ellis Hixom,
"who had then charge of his pinnace, to search out some
harbour along the coast." Hixom soon discovered a
little bay, where there was good holding ground, with
sufficient depth of water to float the prize. They entered
the new port, and dropped their anchors there, promising<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[49]</a></span>
the Spaniards their clothes, as well as their liberty, if
they would but bring them to a clear spring of water and
a supply of fresh meat. The Spaniards, who knew the
coast very well, soon brought them to an Indian village,
where the natives "were clothed and governed by a
Spaniard." They stayed there all the day, cutting wood
for their fire, filling water casks, and storing the purchased
meat. The Indians helped them with all their might,
for Drake, following his custom, gave them "content and
satisfaction" for the work they did for him. Towards
night Drake called his men aboard, leaving the Spanish
prisoners ashore, according to his promise, "to their great
content." The wood, water casks, and sides of meat
were duly stored, the anchors were brought to the bows,
and the adventurers put to sea again towards the secret
harbour. That day one of their men died from "a sickness
which had begun to kindle among us, two or three
days before." What the cause of this malady was "we
knew not of certainty," but "we imputed it to the cold
which our men had taken, lying without succour in the
pinnaces." It may have been pleurisy, or pneumonia, or
some low fever. The dead man was Charles Glub, "one
of our Quarter Masters, a very tall man, and a right good
mariner, taken away to the great grief of Captain and
company"&mdash;a sufficiently beautiful epitaph for any man.
"But howsoever it was," runs the touching account, "thus
it pleased God to visit us, and yet in favour to restore
unto health all the rest of our company that were touched
with this disease, which were not a few."</p>

<p>The 15th of November broke bright and fine, though
the wind still blew from the west. Drake ordered the
<i>Minion</i>, the smaller of his two pinnaces, to part company,
"to hasten away before him towards his ships at Port
Diego ... to carry news of his coming, and to put all
things in a readiness for our land journey if they heard<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[50]</a></span>
anything of the Fleet's arrival." If they wanted wine,
he said, they had better put in at San Barnardo, and
empty some of the caches in the sand there, where they
had buried many bottles. Seven days later Drake put
in at San Barnardo for the same commodity, "finding
but twelve <i>botijos</i> of wine of all the store we left, which
had escaped the curious search of the enemy who had
been there, for they were deep in the ground." Perhaps
the crew of the <i>Minion</i> were the guilty ones. About the
27th of November the Captain's party arrived at Port
Diego, where they found all things in good order, "but
received very heavy news of the death of John Drake,
our Captain's brother, and another young man called
Richard Allen, which were both slain at one time [on
the 9th October, the day Drake left the isle of shell-fish]
as they attempted the boarding of a frigate." Drake had
been deeply attached to this brother, whom he looked
upon as a "young man of great hope." His death was
a sore blow to him, all the more because it happened in
his absence, when he could neither warn him of the risks
he ran nor comfort him as he lay a-dying.</p>

<p>He had been in the pinnace, it seems, with a cargo of
planks from the Spanish wreck, carrying the timber for
the platform of the battery. It was a bright, sunny
morning, and the men were rowing lazily towards the fort,
"when they saw this frigate at sea." The men were in
merry heart, and eager for a game at handystrokes. They
were "very importunate on him, to give chase and set upon
this frigate, which they deemed had been a fit booty for
them." He told them that they "wanted weapons to
assail"; that, for all they knew, the frigate might be full of
men and guns; and that their boat was cumbered up with
planks, required for his brother's service. These answers
were not enough for them, and "still they urged him with
words and supposals." "If you will needs," said he;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[51]</a></span>&mdash;"Adventure.
It shall never be said that I will be hindmost,
neither shall you report to my brother that you
lost your voyage by any cowardice you found in me."
The men armed themselves as they could with stretchers
from the boat, or anything that came to hand. They
hove the planks overboard to make a clear fighting space,
and "took them such poor weapons as they had: viz., a
broken pointed rapier, one old visgee, and a rusty caliver.
John Drake took the rapier and made a gauntlet of his
pillow, Richard Allen the visgee, both standing at the
head of the pinnace called Eion. Robert took the caliver,
and so boarded." It was a gallant, mad attempt, but
utterly hopeless from the first. The frigate was "armed
round about with a close fight of hides," and "full of
pikes and calivers, which were discharged in their faces,
and deadly wounded those that were in the fore ship,
John Drake in the belly, and Richard Allen in the head."
Though they were both sorely hurt, they shoved the
pinnace clear with their oars, and so left the frigate, and
hurried home to their ship, where "within an hour after"
this young man of great hope ended his days, "greatly
lamented of all the company." He was buried in that
place, with Richard Allen his shipmate, among the
brilliant shrubs, over which the parrots chatter.</p>

<p>For the next four or five weeks the company remained
at Fort Diego with the Maroons, their allies. They fared
sumptuously every day on the food stored within the
magazine; while "daily out of the woods" they took wild
hogs, the "very good sort of a beast called warre," that
Dampier ate, besides great store of turkeys, pheasants,
and numberless guanas, "which make very good Broath."
The men were in good health, and well contented; but a
day or two after the New Year (January 1573) "half a score
of our company fell down sick together, and the most of
them died within two or three days." They did not know<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[52]</a></span>
what the sickness was, nor do they leave us much information
to enable us to diagnose it. They called it a
calenture, or fever, and attributed it to "the sudden
change from cold to heat, or by reason of brackish water
which had been taken in by our pinnace, through the
sloth of their men in the mouth of the river, not rowing
further in where the water was good." We cannot wonder
that they died from drinking the water of that sluggish
tropical river, for in the rainy season such water is often
poisonous to the fish in the sea some half-a-mile from
the shore. It comes down from the hills thick with
pestilential matter. It sweeps away the rotting leaves
and branches, the dead and drowned animals, from the
flooded woods and savannahs. "And I believe," says
Dampier, "it receives a strong Tincture from the Roots
of several Kind of Trees, Herbs, etc., and especially where
there is any stagnancy of the Water, it soon corrupts; and
possibly the Serpents and other poisonous Vermin and
Insects may not a little contribute to its bad qualities."
Whatever it was, the disease raged among the men with
great violence&mdash;as many as thirty being down with it at
the one time. Among those who died was Joseph Drake,
another brother of the Captain, "who died in our Captain's
arms." The many deaths caused something like a panic
among the men, and Drake, in his distress, determined
to hold a post-mortem upon his brother's corpse "that the
cause [of the disease] might be the better discerned, and
consequently remedied." The operation was performed
by the surgeon, "who found his liver swollen, his heart
as it were sodden, and his guts all fair." The corpse of
one dead from yellow-fever displays very similar symptoms;
and the muddy foreshore on which they were camped
would, doubtless, swarm with the yellow-fever mosquito.
The sick seem to have recovered swiftly&mdash;a trait observable
in yellow-fever patients. This, says the narrative, "was the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[53]</a></span>
first and last experiment that our Captain made of anatomy
in this voyage." The surgeon who made this examination
"over-lived him not past four days"&mdash;a fact which
very possibly saved the lives of half the company. He
had had the sickness at its first beginning among them,
but had recovered. He died, we are told, "of an overbold
practice which he would needs make upon himself,
by receiving an over-strong purgation of his own device,
after which taken he never spake; nor his Boy recovered
the health which he lost by tasting it, till he saw England."
He seems to have taken the draught directly after the
operation, as a remedy against infection from the corpse.
The boy, who, perhaps, acted as assistant at the operation,
may have thought it necessary to drink his master's heeltaps
by way of safeguard.</p>

<p>While the company lay thus fever-stricken at the fort,
the Maroons had been wandering abroad among the forest,
ranging the country up and down "between Nombre de
Dios and us, to learn what they might for us." During
the last few days of January 1573 they came in with the
news that the plate fleet "had certainly arrived in
Nombre de Dios." On the 30th of January, therefore,
Drake ordered the <i>Lion</i>, one of the three pinnaces, to
proceed "to the seamost islands of the Cativaas," a few
miles from the fort, to "descry the truth of the report"
by observing whether many frigates were going towards
Nombre de Dios from the east, as with provisions for the
fleet. The <i>Lion</i> remained at sea for a few days, when she
captured a frigate laden with "maize, hens, and pompions
from Tolu." She had the Scrivano of Tolu aboard
her, with eleven men and one woman. From these they
learned that the fleet was certainly at Nombre de Dios,
as the Indians had informed them. The prisoners were
"used very courteously," and "diligently guarded from
the deadly hatred of the Cimmeroons," who used every<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[54]</a></span>
means in their power to obtain them from the English,
so that "they might cut their throats to revenge their
wrongs and injuries." Drake warned his allies not to
touch them "or give them ill countenance"; but, feeling
a little doubtful of their safety, he placed them aboard the
Spanish prize, in charge of Ellis Hixom, and had the ship
hauled ashore to the island, "which we termed Slaughter
Island (because so many of our men died there)." He
was about to start upon "his journey for Panama by
land," and he could not follow his usual custom of letting
his prisoners go free.</p>



<hr class="chapter" />
<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[55]</a></span></p>
<h2><a name="CHAPTER_IV" id="CHAPTER_IV"></a>CHAPTER IV</h2>

<h3>THE ROAD TO PANAMA</h3>

<div class="blockquot"><p>The Maroons&mdash;The native city&mdash;The great tree&mdash;Panama&mdash;The
silver train&mdash;The failure&mdash;Venta Cruz</p></div>


<p>When the Spanish prize had been warped to her
berth at Slaughter Island, Drake called his men
together, with the chiefs of the Maroons, to a solemn
council of war about the fire. He then discussed with
them, with his usual care, the equipment necessary for an
undertaking of the kind in hand. He was going to cross
the isthmus with them, those "20 leagues of death and
misery," in order to surprise one of the recuas, or treasure
trains, as it wandered north upon the road from Panama
to Nombre de Dios. It was, as he says, "a great and long
journey," through jungles, across swamps, and up precipitous
crags. Any error in equipment would be paid
for in blood. It was essential, therefore, that they should
strictly debate "what kind of weapons, what store of
victuals, and what manner of apparel" would be fittest for
them. The Maroons "especially advised" him "to carry as
great store of shoes as possibly he might, by reason of
so many rivers with stone and gravel as they were to
pass." This advice was followed by all hands, who provided
themselves with a good store of boots and spare
leather, thereby saving themselves from much annoyance
from jiguas, or jiggers, and the venomous leeches of the
swamps. The sickness had destroyed twenty-eight of the
company. Three had died of wounds or in battle, and
one had died from cold and exposure in the pinnace. Of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[56]</a></span>
the remaining forty-two Drake selected eighteen of the
best. A number were still ill abed, and these he left
behind in the care of Ellis Hixom and his little band of
shipkeepers. The dried meat and biscuit were then packed
carefully into bundles. The eighteen took their weapons,
with such necessaries as they thought they might require.
Drake called Hixom aside, and gave him "straight charge,
in any case not to trust any messenger that should come
in his name with any tokens, unless he brought his handwriting:
which he knew could not be counterfeited by the
Cimaroons or Spaniards." A last farewell was taken;
thirty brawny Cimmeroons swung the packs upon their
shoulders, shaking their javelins in salute. The shipkeepers
sounded "A loath to depart," and dipped their
colours. The forty-eight adventurers then formed into
order, and marched away into the forest on their perilous
journey.</p>

<p>Having such stalwart carriers, the English were able
to march light, "not troubled with anything but our
furniture." The Maroons carried "every one of them two
sorts of arrows" in addition to the packs of victuals, for
they had promised to provide fresh food upon the march
for all the company. "Every day we were marching by
sun-rising," says the narrative, taking the cool of the
morning before the sun was hot. At "ten in the forenoon"
a halt was called for dinner, which they ate in quiet "ever
near some river." This halt lasted until after twelve.
Then they marched again till four, at which time they
sought out a river-bank for their camping ground. Often
they slept in old huts built by the Indians "when they
travelled through these woods," but more frequently the
Maroons built them new ones, having a strange skill in
that craft. Then they would light little fires of wood
inside the huts, giving a clear red glow, with just sufficient
smoke to keep away mosquitoes. They would sup<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[57]</a></span>
pleasantly together there, snugly sheltered from the rain
if any fell; warm if it were cold, as on the hills; and cool
if it were hot, as in the jungle. When the Indians had lit
their little "light Wood" candles these huts must have
been delightful places, full of jolly talk and merry music.
Outside, by the river-brink, the frogs would croak; and,
perhaps, the adventurers heard "the shriekings of Snakes
and other Insects," such as scared Lionel Wafer there
about a century later. Those who ventured out into the
night were perplexed by the innumerable multitude of
fireflies that spangled the darkness with their golden
sparks. In the mornings the brilliant blue and green
macaws aroused them with their guttural cries "like Men
who speak much in the Throat." The chicaly bird began
his musical quick cuckoo cry, the corrosou tolled out his
bell notes, the "waggish kinds of Monkeys" screamed and
chattered in the branches, playing "a thousand antick
Tricks." Then the sun came up in his splendour above
the living wall of greenery, and the men buckled on their
gear, and fell in for the road.</p>

<p>As they marched, they sometimes met with droves of
peccary or warree. Then six Maroons would lay their
burdens down, and make a slaughter of them, bringing
away as much of the dainty wild pork as they could carry.
Always they had an abundance of fresh fruit, such as
"Mammeas" ("very wholesome and delicious"), "Guavas,
Palmitos, Pinos, Oranges, Lemons and divers others." Then
there were others which were eaten "first dry roasted," as
"Plantains, Potatoes, and such like," besides bananas and
the delicious sapadilloes. On one occasion
<ins class="correction" title="Transcriber's Note: so in original">"the</ins> Cimaroons
found an otter, and prepared it to be drest: our
Captain marvelling at it. Pedro, our chief Cimaroon,
asked him, "Are you a man of war, and in want; and
yet doubt whether this be meat, that hath blood?
Herewithal [we read] our Captain rebuked himself<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[58]</a></span>
secretly, that he had so slightly considered of it
before."</p>

<p>After three days' wandering in the woods the Maroons
brought them to a trim little Maroon town, which was built
on the side of a hill by a pretty river. It was surrounded
by "a dyke of eight feet broad, and a thick mud wall of
ten feet high, sufficient to stop a sudden surpriser. It
had one long and broad street, lying east and west, and
two other cross streets of less breadth and length," containing
in all some "five or six and fifty households."
It was "kept so clean and sweet, that not only the houses,
but the very streets were pleasant to behold"&mdash;a thing,
doubtless, marvellous to one accustomed to an Elizabethan
English town. "In this town we saw they lived very
civilly and cleanly," for, as soon as the company marched
in, the thirty carriers "washed themselves in the river and
changed their apparel," which was "very fine and fitly made,"
after the Spanish cut. The clothes, by all accounts, were only
worn on state occasions. They were long cotton gowns,
either white or rusty black, "shap'd like our Carter's Frocks."</p>

<p>The town was thirty-five leagues from Nombre de Dios
and forty-five from Panama. It had been surprised the
year before Drake came there (1572) by 150 Spanish
troops under "a gallant gentleman," who had been guided
thither by a recreant Maroon. He attacked a little before
the dawn, and cut down many women and children, but
failed to prevent the escape of nearly all the men. In a
little while they rallied, and attacked the Spaniards with
great fury, killing their guide and four-fifths of their
company. The wretched remnant straggled back as best
they could "to return answer to them which sent them."
The natives living there at the time of Drake's visit kept
a continual watch some three miles from the town, to
prevent a second surprise. Any Spaniards whom they
met they "killed like beasts."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[59]</a></span></p>

<p>The adventurers passed a night in the town, and stayed
until noon of the day following. The Maroons told them
stories of their battles with the Spaniards, while Drake
inquired into "their affection in religion." He learned
that they had no kind of priests; "only they held the
Cross in great reputation"&mdash;having, perhaps, learned so
much of Christianity from the Spaniards. Drake seems
to have done a little earnest missionary work, for he
persuaded them "to leave their crosses, and to learn the
Lord's Prayer, and to be instructed in some measure
concerning God's true worship." After dinner on the
7th of February the company took to the roads again,
refusing to take any of the countless recruits who offered
their services. Four Maroons went on ahead to mark a
trail by breaking branches or flinging a bunch of leaves
upon the ground. After these four, marched twelve more
Maroons as a sort of vanguard. Then came Drake with
his men and the two Maroon chiefs. Another troop of
twelve Maroons brought up the rear. The Maroons
marched in strict silence, "which they also required us
to keep," for it is the custom among nearly all savage
folk to remain silent on the trail.</p>

<p>The way now led them through parts less swampy, and,
therefore, less densely tangled over than those nearer
the "North Sea." "All the way was through woods very
cool and pleasant," says the narrative, "by reason of those
goodly and high trees, that grow there so thick." They
were mounting by slow degrees to the "ridge between
the two seas," and the woodland was getting clear of
undergrowth. As later buccaneers have noted, the upper
land of the isthmus is wooded with vast trees, whose
branches shut out the sun. Beneath these trees a man
may walk with pleasure, or indeed ride, for there is hardly
any undergrowth. The branches are so thick together
that the lower ground receives no sunlight, and, therefore,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[60]</a></span>
little grows there. The heat of the sun is shut out, and
"it is cooler travelling there ... in that hot region, than
it is in ... England in the summer time." As the men
began to ascend, the Maroons told them that not far away
there grew a great tree about midway between the oceans,
"from which we might at once discern the North Sea
from whence we came, and the South Sea whither we
were going." On the 11th of February, after four days of
slow but steady climbing, they "came to the height of the
desired hill, a very high hill, lying East and West, like a
ridge between the two seas." It was ten o'clock in the
forenoon, the hour at which the dinner halt was made.
Pedro, the Maroon chief, now took Drake's hand, and
"prayed him to follow him if he was desirous to see at
once the two seas which he had so longed for." Drake
followed Pedro to the hilltop, to the "goodly and great
high Tree," of which the Maroons had spoken. He found
that they had hacked out steps upon the bole, "to ascend
up near unto the top," where they had built a pleasant
little hut of branches thatched from the sun, "wherein ten
or twelve men might easily sit." "South and north of
this Tree" the Maroons had felled certain trees "that the
prospect might be the clearer." At its base there was a
number of strong houses "that had been built long before,"
perhaps by an older people than the Cimmeroons.
The tree seems to have been a place of much resort among
that people, as it lay in their paths across the isthmus, and
towards the west.</p>

<p>Drake climbed the tree with Pedro to the little sunny
bower at the top. A fresh breeze which was blowing, had
blown away the mists and the heat haze, so that the
whole isthmus lay exposed before him, in the golden
sunlight. There to the north, like a bright blue jewel,
was "the Atlantic Ocean whence now we came." There
to the south, some thirty miles away, was "that sea of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[61]</a></span>
which he had heard such golden reports." He looked at
the wonderful South Sea, and "besought Almighty God
of His goodness, to give him life and leave to sail once in
an English ship, in that sea." The prayer was granted to
him, for in five years' time he was off that very coast with
such a spoil as no ship ever took before. Having glutted
his eyes with the sight, Drake called up all his English
followers, and "acquainted John Oxenham especially with
this his petition and purpose, if it would please God to grant
him that happiness." Oxenham answered fervently that
"unless our Captain did beat him from his company, he
would follow him, by God's grace." He fulfilled his vow a few
months later, with disaster to himself and his associates.</p>

<p>"Thoroughly satisfied with the sight of the seas," the
men descended to their dinner with excellent appetite.
They then pushed on lightly as before, through continual
forest, for another two days. On the 13th of February,
when they had gained the west side of the Cheapo River,
the forest broke away into little knots of trees green and
goodly, which showed like islands in a rolling ocean of
green grass. They were come to the famous savannahs,
over which roamed herds of black cattle, swift and savage.
Everywhere about them was the wiry stipa grass, and
"a kind of grass with a stalk as big as a great wheaten
reed, which hath a blade issuing from the top of it, on
which though the cattle feed, yet it groweth every day
higher, until the top be too high for an ox to reach." The
inhabitants of the country were wont to burn the grass
every year, but "after it is thus burnt" it "springeth up
fresh like green corn" within three days. "Such," says
the narrative, "is the great fruitfulness of the soil: by
reason of the evenness of the day and the night, and the
rich dews which fall every morning." As the raiders
advanced along this glorious grass-land they sometimes
caught sight of Panama. Whenever they topped a rise<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[62]</a></span>
they could see the city, though very far away; and at last,
"on the last day," they saw the ships riding in the road,
with the blue Pacific trembling away into the sky beyond
them. Now was the woodcock near the gin, and now the
raiders had to watch their steps. There was no cover on
those rolling sweeps of grass. They were within a day's
journey of the city. The grass-land (as Drake gathered
from his guides) was a favourite hunting-ground of the
city poulterers, for there, as Drake puts it, "the Dames of
Panama are wont to send forth hunters and fowlers, for
taking of sundry dainty fowl, which the land yieldeth."
Such a body of men as theirs might readily be detected
by one of these sportsmen, and one such detection would
surely ruin the attempt. They therefore, crept like snakes
"out of all ordinary way," worming themselves through
the grass-clumps till they came to a little river-bed, in
which a trickle of water ran slowly across the sun-bleached
pebbles. They were minded to reach a grove or wood
about a league from Panama. The sun beat upon them
fiercely, and it was necessary for them to travel in the
heat of the day. In that open country the midday heat
was intense, but they contrived to gain the shelter of the
wood by three that afternoon. "This last day," says the
narrative, "our Captain did behold and view the most
of all that fair city, discerning the large street which lieth
directly from the sea into the land, South and North."</p>

<p>Having gained the shelter of the wood, Drake chose
out a Maroon "that had served a master in Panama" to
venture into the city as a spy. He dressed the man "in
such apparel as the Negroes of Panama do use to wear,"
and sent him off to the town an hour before night, "so
that by the closing in of the evening he might be in the
city." He gave the man strict charge to find out "the
certain night, and the time of the night, when the carriers
laded the Treasure from the King's Treasure House to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[63]</a></span>
Nombre de Dios." The first stage of the journey (from
Panama to Venta Cruz) was always undertaken in the
cool of the night, "because the country is all champion,
and consequently by day very hot." From Venta Cruz
to Nombre de Dios "they travel always by day and not
by night, because all that way is full of woods and therefore
very cool." Drake's plan was to waylay one of the
treasure trains on the night journey towards Venta Cruz.
The Maroon soon returned to the little wood where the
men were lying. He had entered the town without
trouble, and had met with some old companions, who had
told him all he wished to know. A treasure train was to
start that very night, for a great Spanish gentleman, the
treasurer of Lima, "was intending to pass into Spain" in
a swift advice ship which stayed for him at Nombre de
Dios. "His daughter and family" were coming with
him, "having fourteen mules in company, of which eight
were laden with gold, and one with jewels." After this
troop, two other recuas, "of fifty mules in each," would
take the road, carrying victuals and wine for the fleet,
"with some little quantity of silver."</p>

<p>As soon as the news had been conveyed to Drake, he
marched his men away from Panama towards Venta Cruz,
some four leagues' journey. He halted them about two
leagues to the south of Venta Cruz, in a clump of tall
grass, and then examined a Spanish prisoner whom his
scouts had caught. Two of the Maroons, stealing forward
along the line of march, had scented the acrid smoke of a
burning match carried by some arquebusier. They had
crept up "by scent of the said match," and had heard a
sound of snoring coming from the grass by the roadside.
A Spanish sentry had fallen asleep upon his post, "and
being but one they fell upon him, stopped his mouth from
crying, put out his match," and bound him so effectually
"that they well near strangled him." He was in the pay<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[64]</a></span>
of the King's treasurer, who had hired him, with others,
to guard the treasure train upon its march from Venta
Cruz. He had fallen asleep while waiting for the mules
to arrive, as he knew that he would get no sleep until the
company he marched with was safe in Nombre de Dios.
He was in terror of his life, for he believed that he had
fallen into the hands of the Maroons, from whom he
might expect no mercy. When he learned that he was
a prisoner to Francis Drake he plucked up courage, "and
was bold to make two requests unto him." First, he asked
that Drake would order the Maroons to spare his life, for
he knew that they "hated the Spaniards, especially the
soldiers, extremely," but a word from such a Captain would
be enough to save him. The second request was also
personal. He assured them, upon the faith of a soldier,
that "they should have that night more gold, besides
jewels, and pearls of great price, than all they could carry";
if not, he swore, let them deal with him as they would.
But, he added, if the raiders are successful, "then it might
please our Captain to give unto him, as much as might
suffice for him and his mistress to live upon, as he had
heard our Captain had done to divers others"&mdash;promising,
in such a case, to make his name as famous as any of them
which had received the like favour.</p>

<p>Being now "at the place appointed" Drake divided his
men into two companies. With eight Englishmen and
fifteen Cimmeroons he marched to some long grass about
fifty paces from the road. He sent John Oxenham, with
Pedro and the other company of men, to the other side of
the road, at the same distance from it, but a little farther
to the south, in order that, "as occasion served, the former
company might take the foremost mules by the heads,"
while Oxenham's party did that service for those which
followed. The arrangement also provided "that if we
should have need to use our weapons that night, we might<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[65]</a></span>
be sure not to endamage our fellows." Having reached
their stations, the men lay down to wait, keeping as quiet
as they could. In about an hour's time they heard the
clanging of many mule bells, making a loud music, in the
direction of Venta Cruz. Mules were returning from that
town to Panama; for with the fleet at Nombre de Dios
there was much business between the two seaports, and
the mule trains were going and coming several times a
day. As they listened, they heard more mule bells ringing
far away on the road from Panama. The treasurer with
his company was coming.</p>

<p>Now, Drake had given strict orders that no man should
show himself, or as much as budge from his station, "but
let all that came from Venta Cruz [which was nothing
but merchandise] to pass quietly." Yet one of the men,
probably one of Oxenham's men, of the name of Robert
Pike, now disobeyed those orders. "Having drunken
too much aqua-vit&aelig; without water," he forgot himself.
He rose from his place in the grass, "enticing a Cimaroon
with him," and crept up close to the road, "with
intent to have shown his forwardness on the foremost
mules." Almost immediately a cavalier came trotting
past from Venta Cruz upon a fine horse, with a little
page running at the stirrup. As he trotted by, Robert
Pike "rose up to see what he was." The Cimmeroon
promptly pulled him down, and sat upon him; but his
promptness came too late to save the situation. All
the English had put their shirts over their other apparel,
"that we might be sure to know our own men in the
pell mell in the night." The Spanish cavalier had glanced
in Robert Pike's direction, and had seen a figure rising
from the grass "half all in white" and very conspicuous.
He had heard of Drake's being on the coast, and at
once came to the conclusion that that arch-pirate had
found his way through the woods to reward himself for<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">[66]</a></span>
his disappointment at Nombre de Dios. He was evidently
a man of great presence of mind. He put spurs
to his horse, and galloped off down the road, partly to
escape the danger, but partly also to warn the treasure
train, the bells of which were now clanging loudly at a
little distance from the ambuscade.</p>

<p>Drake heard the trotting horse's hoofs clatter out into
a furious gallop. He suspected that he had been discovered,
"but could not imagine by whose fault, neither
did the time give him the leasure to search." It was
a still night, and he had heard no noise, yet something
had startled the cavalier. Earnestly hoping that the
rider had been alarmed by the silence of the night and
the well-known danger of the road, he lay down among
the grass again to wait for the mules to come. The
bells clanged nearer and nearer, till at last the mules
were trotting past the ambush. The captains blew their
whistles to the attack. The raiders rose from the grass-clumps
with a cheer. There was a rush across the narrow
trackway at the drivers, the mules were seized, and in
a moment, two full recuas were in the raiders' hands.</p>

<p>So far all had gone merrily. The sailors turned to
loot the mule packs, congratulating themselves upon their
glorious good fortune. It must have been a strange scene
to witness&mdash;the mules scared and savage, the jolly seamen
laughing as they pulled the packs away, the Maroons
grinning and chattering, and the harness and the bells
jingling out a music to the night. As the packs were
ripped open a mutter of disappointment began to sound
among the ranks of the spoilers. Pack after pack was
found to consist of merchandise&mdash;vicuna wool, or dried
provender for the galleons. The amount of silver found
amounted to a bare two horse loads. Gold there was
none. The jewels of the King's treasurer were not to be
discovered. The angry sailors turned upon the muleteers<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[67]</a></span>
for an explanation. The chief muleteer, "a very sensible
fellow," was taken to Drake, who soon learned from him
the reason why the catch was so poor. The cavalier who
had noticed Robert Pike was the saviour of the
<ins class="correction" title="Transcriber's Note: original lacks .">treasure.</ins>
As soon as the figure half all in white had risen ghost-like
by the road, he had galloped to the treasure mules to
report what he had seen to the treasurer. The thing he
had seen was vague, but it was yet too unusual to pass
unnoticed. Drake, he said, was a person of devilish resource,
and it was highly probable, he thought, that
the pirates had come "in covert through the woods"
to recoup themselves for their former disappointments.
A white shirt was the usual uniform for men engaged
in night attacks. No Maroon would wear such a thing
in that locality, and, therefore, it would be well to let
the food train pass ahead of the treasure. The loss
of the food train would be a little matter, while it would
surely show them whether an ambush lay in wait or not.
The treasurer had accordingly drawn his company aside
to allow the food mules to get ahead of him. As soon
as the noise upon the road advised him that the enemy
had made their spring, he withdrew quietly towards
Panama. "Thus," says the narrative, "we were disappointed
of a most rich booty: which is to be though
God would not should be taken, for that, by all likelihood,
it was well gotten by that Treasurer."</p>

<p>We are not told what happened to Robert Pike, but
it is probable that he had a bad five minutes when the
muleteer's story reached the sailors. It was bad enough
to have marched all day under a broiling sun, and to lose
a royal fortune at the end; but that was not all, nor nearly
all: they were now discovered to the enemy, who lay
in considerable force in their front and rear. They were
wearied out with marching, yet they knew very well that unless
they "shifted for themselves betimes" all the Spaniards<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[68]</a></span>
of Panama would be upon them. They had a bare two
or three hours' grace in which to secure themselves.
They had marched four leagues that night, and by marching
back those same four leagues they might win to
cover by the morning. If they marched forward they
might gain the forest in two leagues; but Venta Cruz lay
in the road, and Venta Cruz was guarded day and night
by a company of Spanish troops. To reach the forest
by the latter road they would have to make a way with
their swords, but with men so tired and out of heart
it seemed the likelier route of the two. It was better,
Drake thought, "to encounter his enemies while he had
strength remaining, than to be encountered or chased
when they should be worn out with weariness." He
bade all hands to eat and drink from the provisions found
upon the mules, and while they took their supper he
told them what he had resolved to do. He called upon
Pedro, the Maroon, by name, asking "whether he would
give his hand not to forsake him." Pedro swore that
he would rather die at his feet than desert him in such
a pass&mdash;a vow which assured Drake of the loyalty of
his allies. As soon as supper was over, he bade the men
mount upon the mules, so that they might not weary
themselves with marching. An hour's trot brought them
to the woods within a mile of Venta Cruz, where they
dismounted, and went afoot, after bidding the muleteers
not to follow if they cared for whole skins. The road
was here some ten or twelve feet broad, "so as two Recuas
may pass one by another." It was paved with cobbles,
which had been beaten into the mud by Indian slaves.
On either side of it was the dense tropical forest, "as thick
as our thickest hedges in England that are oftenest cut."
Among the tangle, about half-a-mile from the town, the
Spaniards had taken up a strong position. The town
guard of musketeers had been reinforced by a number<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[69]</a></span>
of friars from a religious house. They lay there, hidden
in the jungle, blowing their matches to keep them burning
clearly. Two Maroons, whom Drake had sent forward
as scouts, crept back to him with the news that the
enemy were there in force, for they had smelt the reek
of the smouldering matches and heard the hushed noise
of many men moving in the scrub. Drake gave orders
that no man should fire till the Spaniards had given them
a volley, for he thought they would first parley with him,
"as indeed fell out." Soon afterwards, as the men neared
the Spanish ambush, a Spanish captain rose from the road,
and "cried out, Hoo!" Drake answered with, "Hallo!"&mdash;the
sailor's reply to a hail. The Spaniard then put the
query "Que gente?" to which Drake answered "Englishmen."
The Spaniard, "in the name of the King of Spain
his master," then charged him to surrender, passing his
word as a gentleman soldier that the whole company
should be treated courteously. Drake made a few quick
steps towards the Spaniard, crying out that "for the
honour of the Queen of England, his mistress, he must
have passage that way." As he advanced, he fired his
pistol towards him, in order to draw the Spanish fire.
Immediately the thicket burst out into flame; for the
ambush took the shot for a signal, and fired off their
whole volley. Drake received several hail-shot in his
body. Many of the men were wounded, and one man
fell sorely hurt. As the volley crackled out its last few
shots, Drake blew his whistle, as a signal to his men
to fire. A volley of shot and arrows was fired into the
thicket, and the company at once advanced, "with intent
to come to handy strokes." As they stormed forward
to the thicket, the Spaniards fled towards a position of
greater strength. Drake called upon his men to double
forward to prevent them. The Maroons at once rushed
to the front, "with their arrows ready in their bows, and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[70]</a></span>
their manner of country dance or leap, singing Y&oacute; p&eacute;h&oacute;!
Y&oacute; p&eacute;h&oacute;, and so got before us where they continued
their leap and song after the manner of their own country
wars." The Spaniards heard the war-cry ringing out
behind them, and fell back rapidly upon the town. Near
the town's end a party of them rallied, forming a sort
of rearguard to cover the retreat. As they took up a
position in the woods, the Maroons charged them upon
both flanks, while the English rushed their centre. There
was a mad moment of fighting in the scrub. A Maroon
went down with a pike through the body; but he contrived
to kill the pikeman before he died. Several
Englishmen were hurt. The Spaniards' loss is not
mentioned, but it was probably severe. They broke and
fled before the fury of the attack, and the whole body
of fighting men, "friars and all," were thrust back into
the town by the raiders. As they ran, the raiders pressed
them home, shouting and slaying. The gates were open.
The Spanish never had another chance to rally, and the
town was taken with a rush a very few minutes after
the captain's challenge in the wood.</p>


<h3><span class="smcap">Venta Cruz</span></h3>

<p>Venta Cruz, the modern Cruces, stood, and still stands,
on the west or left bank of the Chagres River. It marks
the highest point to which boats may penetrate from the
North Sea. Right opposite the town the river broadens
out to a considerable width, affording berths for a number
of vessels of slight draught. At the time of Drake's raid
it was a place of much importance. The land route from
Panama to Nombre de Dios was, as we have said, boggy,
dangerous, and pestilential. The freight charges for mule
transport across the isthmus were excessive, ranging from<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[71]</a></span>
twenty-five to thirty dollars of assayed silver for a mule
load of 200 pounds weight&mdash;a charge which works
out at nearly &pound;70 a ton. Even in the dry season the
roads were bad, and the mule trains were never safe from
the Maroons. Many merchants, therefore, sent their goods
to Venta Cruz in flat-bottomed boats of about fifteen tons.
These would sail from Nombre de Dios to the mouth of
the Chagres River, where they struck sail, and took to
their sweeps. The current was not very violent except
in the upper reaches, and the boats were generally able
to gain Venta Cruz in a few days&mdash;in about three days
in dry weather and about twelve in the rains. A towing-path
was advocated at one time; but it does not seem to
have been laid, though the river-banks are in many places
flat and sandy, and free from the dense undergrowth of
the tropics. As soon as the boats arrived at Venta Cruz
they were dragged alongside the jetty on the river-bank,
and their cargoes were transferred to some strong stone
warehouses. In due course the goods were packed on
mules, and driven away down the road to Panama, a
distance of some fifteen or eighteen miles, which the
mules would cover in about eight hours. The town at
the time of Drake's raid contained about forty or fifty
houses, some of them handsome stone structures decorated
with carven work. The river-bank was covered with
a great many warehouses, and there were several official
buildings, handsome enough, for the Governor and the
King's officers. There was a monastery full of friars,
"where we found above a thousand bulls and pardons,
newly sent from Rome." Perhaps there was also some
sort of a barrack for the troops. The only church was
the great church of the monastery. The town was not
fortified, but the houses made a sort of hedge around it;
and there were but two entrances&mdash;the one from the forest,
by which Drake's party entered; the other leading over<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[72]</a></span>
a pontoon bridge towards the hilly woods beyond the
Chagres. Attached to the monastery, and tended by
the monks and their servants, was a sort of sanatorium
and lying-in hospital. Nombre de Dios was so unhealthy,
so full of malaria and yellow fever, "that no Spaniard
or white woman" could ever be delivered there without
the loss of the child on the second or third day. It was
the custom of the matrons of Nombre de Dios to proceed
to Venta Cruz or to Panama to give birth to their
children. The babes were left in the place where they
were born, in the care of the friars, until they were five
or six years old. They were then brought to Nombre
de Dios, where "if they escaped sickness the first or
second month, they commonly lived in it as healthily
as in any other place." Life in Venta Cruz must have
been far from pleasant. The Maroons were a continual
menace, but the town was too well guarded, and too close
to Panama, for them to put the place in serious danger.
The inhabitants had to keep within the township; for the
forest lay just beyond the houses, and lonely wanderers
were certain to be stabbed by lurking Maroons or carried
off by jaguars. In the season the mule trains were continually
coming and going, either along the swampy track
to Nombre de Dios or from Nombre de Dios to Panama.
Boats came sleepily up the Chagres to drop their anchors
by the jetty, with news from the Old World and the commodities
which the New World did not yield. It must,
then, have been one of the most eventful places in the
uncomfortable isthmus; but no place can be very pleasant
which has an annual rainfall of 120 inches and a mean
annual temperature of about 80&deg;. The country adjacent
is indescribably beautiful; the river is clear and brilliant;
the woods are gorgeous with many-coloured blossoms,
and with birds and butterflies that gleam in green and
blue among the leaves. During the rains the river some<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">[73]</a></span>times
rises forty feet in a night, and sweeps into the town
with masses of rotting verdure from the hills. There is
always fever in the place, but in the rainy season it is
more virulent than in the dry. At present the town has
few white inhabitants. The fair stone houses which Drake
saw are long since gone, having been destroyed in one of
the buccaneering raids a century later. The modern town
is a mere collection of dirty huts, inhabited by negroes,
half-breeds, and Indians.</p>



<hr class="chapter" />
<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">[74]</a></span></p>
<h2><a name="CHAPTER_V" id="CHAPTER_V"></a>CHAPTER V</h2>

<h3>BACK TO THE MAIN BODY</h3>

<div class="blockquot"><p>The treasure train&mdash;The spoil&mdash;Captain Tet&ucirc; hurt</p></div>


<p>As soon as the town was in his hands, Drake set guards
on the bridge across the Chagres and at the gate
by which he had entered the town. He gave orders to
the Maroons that they were not to molest women or
unarmed men. He gave them free permission to take
what they would from the stores and houses, and then
went in person to comfort some gentlewomen "which had
lately been delivered of children there." They were in
terror of their lives, for they had heard the shouts and
firing, and had thought that the Maroons were coming.
They refused to listen to the various comforters whom
Drake had sent to them, and "never ceased most earnestly
entreating" that Drake himself would come to them.
Drake succeeded in reassuring them that nothing "to
the worth of a garter" would be taken from them. They
then dried their tears, and were comforted.</p>

<p>The raiders stayed in the town about an hour and a half,
during which time they succeeded in getting together a
little comfortable dew of heaven&mdash;not gold, indeed, nor
silver, but yet "good pillage." Drake allowed them this
latitude so that they might not be cast down by the disappointment
of the night. He gave orders, however, that
no heavy loot should be carried from the town, because
they had yet many miles to go, and were still in danger
of attack. While the men were getting their spoils together,
ready for marching, and eating a hasty breakfast<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">[75]</a></span>
in the early morning light, a sudden fusillade began at
the Panama gate. Some ten or twelve cavaliers had
galloped in from Panama, supposing that the pirates
had left the town. They had come on confidently, right
up to the muzzles of the sentries' muskets. They had
then been met with a shattering volley, which killed and
wounded half their number and sent the others scattering
to the woods. Fearing that they were but a scouting
party, and that a troop of horse might be following to
support them, Drake gave the word to fall in for the
road. The spoil, such as it was, was shouldered; Drake
blew a blast upon his whistle; the men formed up into
their accustomed marching order, and tramped away from
Venta Cruz, across the Chagres bridge, just as the dawn
set the parrots screeching and woke the monkeys to their
morning song. They seem to have expected no pursuit;
but Drake was not a man to run unnecessary risks. His
men, including the Maroons, were "grown very valiant,"
yet they were granted no further chance to show their
valour. Drake told them that they had now been "well
near a fortnight" from the ship, with her company of sick
and sorry sailors. He was anxious to rejoin her without
delay, so the word was given to force the marching. He
refused to visit the Indian villages, though the Maroons
begged him earnestly to do so. His one wish was to
rejoin Ellis Hixom. He "hustled" his little company
without mercy, encouraging them "with such example
and speech that the way seemed much shorter." He
himself, we are told, "marched most cheerfully," telling
his comrades of the golden spoils they would win before
they sailed again for England. There was little ease
on that march to the coast, for Drake would allow no
one to leave the ranks. When provisions ran out they
had to march on empty stomachs. There was no hunting
of the peccary or the deer, as on the jolly progress west<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">[76]</a></span>ward.
"We marched many days with hungry stomachs,"
says the narrative, and such was the hurry of the march
that many of the men "fainted with sickness of weariness."
Their clothes were hanging on their backs in shreds and
tatters. Their boots had long since cracked and rotted.
Many of them were marching with their feet wrapped up
in rags. Many of them were so footsore they could
scarcely put their feet upon the ground. Swaying, limping,
utterly road-weary, they came tottering into a little
village which the Maroons had built as a rest-house for
them, about three leagues from the ship. They were
quite exhausted. Their feet were bloody and swollen.
The last stages had been marched with great bodily
suffering, "all our men complaining of the tenderness
of their feet." Drake complained also, "sometimes without
cause, but sometimes with cause indeed; which made
the rest to bear the burden the more easily." Some of
the men were carried in by the Maroons. Indeed, the
Maroons had saved the whole party from collapse, for
they not only built them shelter huts at night, carried
the weary, and found, or made, them a road to travel
by, but they also bore the whole burden of the company's
arms and necessaries. Their fellows who had stayed with
Ellis Hixom had built the little town in the woods, for
the refreshment of all hands, in case they should arrive
worn out with marching. At sunset on the evening of
Saturday, the 22nd of February, the weary crew arrived
at the little town, to the great joy of the Maroons who
kept watch and ward there. The tired men lay down
to rest, while Drake "despatched a Cimaroon with a
token and certain order to the Master."</p>

<p>The day had dawned before this messenger arrived upon
the sands near which the ship was moored. He hailed
her, crying out that he came with news, and immediately
a boat pushed off, manned by men "which longed to hear<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">[77]</a></span>
of our Captain's speeding." As soon as he appeared before
Ellis Hixom, he handed over Drake's golden toothpick,
"which he said our Captain had sent for a token to Ellis
Hixom, with charge to meet him at such a river." The
sight of the golden toothpick was too much for Ellis
Hixom. He knew it to be his Captain's property, but
coming as it did, without a sign in writing, it convinced
him that "something had befallen our Captain otherwise
than well." The Maroon saw him staring "as amazed,"
and told him that it was dark when Drake had packed
him off, so that no letter could be sent, "but yet with the
point of his knife, he wrote something upon the toothpick,
'which,' he said, 'should be sufficient to gain credit to the
messenger.'" Looking closely at the sliver of gold, Hixom
saw a sentence scratched upon it: "By me, Francis
Drake," which convinced him that the message was
genuine. He at once called away one of the pinnaces,
storing her with "what provision he could," and promptly
set sail for the mouth of the Tortugos River, a few miles
along the coast, to the west of where he lay, for there
Drake intended to await him.</p>

<p>At about three o'clock that afternoon, Drake marched
his men, or all who were fit to march, out of the forest to
the sandy beach at the river's mouth. Half-an-hour later
the tattered ragamuffins saw the pinnace running in to
take them off, "which was unto us all a double rejoicing:
first that we saw them, and next, so soon." The whole
company stood up together on the beach to sing some of
the psalms of thanksgiving&mdash;praising God "most heartily,
for that we saw our pinnace and fellows again." To Ellis
Hixom and his gang of shipkeepers the raiders appeared
"as men strangely changed," though Drake was less
changed than the others, in spite of the wound he got at
Venta Cruz. The three weeks' march in that abominable
country, and the last few days of "fasting and sore travail,"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">[78]</a></span>
would have been enough to "fore pine and waste" the very
strongest, while "the grief we drew inwardly, for that
we returned without that gold and treasure we hoped for,
did no doubt show her print and footsteps in our faces."
The next day the pinnace rowed "to another river in the
bottom of the bay" to pick up the stragglers who had
stayed to rest with the Maroons. The company was
then reunited in the secret haven. Wonderful tales were
told of the journey across the isthmus, of the South Sea,
with its lovely city, and of the rush through the grass in
the darkness, when the mule bells came clanging past, that
night near Venta Cruz. The sick men recovering from
their calentures "were thoroughly revived" by these tales.
They importuned Drake to take them with him on the
next foray; for Drake gave out that he meant not to leave
off thus, but would once again attempt the same journey.
In the general rejoicing and merry-making it is possible
that Robert Pike remained aloof in the darkness of the
'tween decks, deprived of his allowance of aqua-vit&aelig;.</p>

<p>Drake noted the eager spirit among his men, and determined
to give it vent. He called them together to a
consultation, at which they discussed what was best to be
done until the mule trains again set forth from Panama.
There was Veragua, "a rich town lying to the Westward,
between Nombre de Dios and Nicaragua, where is the
richest mine of fine gold that is on this North side." At
Veragua also there were little rivers, in which "oftentimes
they find pieces of gold as big as peas." Then, if Veragua
were thought ill of, as too difficult, there were treasure
ships to intercept as they wallowed home for Spain from
Nombre de Dios. Or the men might keep themselves
employed in capturing victual frigates for the stocking of
the ship before they attacked another recua. This last
scheme was flouted by many as unnecessary. They had
food enough, they said, and what they lacked the country<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">[79]</a></span>
would supply, but the treasure, the comfortable dew of
heaven, for which they had come so far, was the main
thing, and to get that they were ready to venture on the
galleons, soldiers or no soldiers. At this point the Maroons
were called in to give their opinion. Most of them had
served the Spaniards as slaves in one town or another of
the Main. Several of them had worked under the whip
of a wealthy Spaniard in Veragua, a creature of the name
of Pezoro, who was "bad and cruel, not only to his slaves,
but unto all men." This gentleman lived in a strong stone
house at a little distance from the town. He had amassed
a vast quantity of treasure, for he owned a gold mine,
which he worked with 100 slaves. He lived with a
guard of soldiers, but the Maroons felt confident that by
attacking from the shore side of the house they could
easily break in upon him. His gold was stored in his
house "in certain great chests." If they succeeded in
surprising the house, it would be an easy matter to make
a spoil of the whole. Drake did not care for the scheme,
as it involved a long march through the woods. He
hesitated to put his men to so much labour, for he had
now seen something of this woodland marching, and knew
how desperate a toil it was. He thought that they would
be better employed in gathering victuals and looking out
for treasure transports. They might practise both crafts
at the same time by separating into two companies. John
Oxenham, in the <i>Bear</i> frigate, could sail "Eastwards
towards Tolu, to see what store of victuals would come
athwart his halse." In the meanwhile he would take
the <i>Minion</i> pinnace to the west, to "lie off and on the
Cabezas" in order to intercept any treasure transports
coming from Veragua or Nicaragua to Nombre de
Dios. Those of the Maroons who cared to stay aboard
the <i>Pascha</i> were free to do so. The rest were dismissed
"most courteously" with "gifts and favours" of the sorts<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">[80]</a></span>
most pleasing to them, such as knives, iron, coloured
ribbons and cloth.</p>

<p>The companies were picked; the pinnaces received
their stores; sails were bent and set, and the two boats
sailed away to their stations. Off the Cabezas the <i>Minion</i>
fell in with a frigate from Nicaragua "in which was some
gold and a Genoese pilot." Drake treated this pilot in his
usual liberal manner till he won him over to his interests.
He had been in Veragua harbour, he said, but eight days
before. He knew the channel perfectly, so that he could
carry Drake in, at night if need were, at any state of the
tide. The townsfolk, he said, were in a panic on account
of Drake's presence in those seas; they were in such a
state of terror that they could not decide upon a scheme
to defend the town in case he attacked it. Signor Pezoro
was thinking of removing himself to the South Seas. The
harbour lay open to any enemy, for the only guns in the
place were up at the town, about fifteen miles from the
haven's mouth. If Drake made a sudden dash, he said, he
would be able to cut out a frigate in the harbour. She
was fitting for the sea there, and was very nearly ready
to sail. She had aboard her "above a million of gold,"
which, with a little promptness and courage, might become
the property of the raiders. On hearing of this golden
booty, Drake thought of all that the Maroons had told
him. He was minded to return to the anchorage, to fetch
off some of those who had lived with Senor Pezoro, in
order that he might have a check upon the pilot's statements,
and a guide, if need were, to the city. The Genoese
dissuaded him from this scheme, pointing out that a return
to the ship would waste several days, during which the
frigate might get away to sea. Drake, therefore, took the
packets of gold from the Nicaraguan prize, and dismissed
her "somewhat lighter to hasten her journey." He then
got his oars out, and made all haste to the west, under a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">[81]</a></span>
press of sail, "to get this harbour, and to enter it by night."
He hoped to cut out the treasure ship and to have a look
at the house of Senor Pezoro&mdash;two investments which would
"make" the voyage if all went well. But as the boat drew
near to the mouth of the harbour "we heard the report
of two Chambers, and farther off, about a league within
the bay, two others as it were answering them." The
Spaniards had espied the boat, and had fired signal guns
to warn the shipping and the town. The report of the
guns called the Spaniards to arms&mdash;an exercise they were
more ready to since the Governor of Panama had warned
them to expect Drake. "The rich Gnuffe Pezoro," it was
thought, had paid the cost of the sentries. "It was not
God's will that we should enter at that time," says the
narrative. The wind shifted opportunely to the westward;
and Drake put his helm up, and ran away to the
east, where he picked up the <i>Bear</i>, "according to appointment."
Oxenham had had a very prosperous and pleasant
cruise, for off Tolu he had come across a victual frigate
"in which there were ten men [whom they set ashore],
great store of maize, twenty-eight fat hogs, and two
hundred hens." The lading was discharged into the <i>Pascha</i>
on the 19th and 20th of March as a seasonable refreshment
to the company. The frigate pleased Drake, for
though she was small (not twenty tons, in fact) she was
strong, new, and of a beautiful model. As soon as her
cargo was out of her, he laid her on her side, and scraped
and tallowed her "to make her a Man of war." He then
fitted her with guns from the <i>Pascha</i>, and stored her with
provisions for a cruise. The Spaniards taken in her had
spoken of "two little galleys built in Nombre de Dios, to
waft [tow] the Chagres Fleet to and fro." They were "not
yet both launched," and the Chagres fleet lay waiting for
them within the mouth of the Chagres River. Drake
"purposed now to adventure for that Fleet." The day on<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">[82]</a></span>
which he made his plan was Easter Sunday, the 22nd
March. "And to hearten his company" for that bold
attempt "he feasted them that Easter Day with great
cheer and cheerfulness" on the dainties taken from the
Spaniards.</p>

<p>The next day, he manned "the new tallowed frigate of
Tolu," and sailed away west (with Oxenham in the <i>Bear</i>
in company) "towards the Cativaas," where they landed
to refresh themselves. As they played about upon the sand,
flinging pebbles at the land-crabs, they saw a sail to the
westward coming down towards them. They at once
repaired aboard, and made sail, and "plied towards" the
stranger, thinking her to be a Spaniard. The stranger
held on her course as though to run the raiders aboard,
"till he perceived by our confidence that we were no
Spaniards, and conjectured we were those Englishmen
of whom he had heard long before." He bore up suddenly
under the lee of the English ships, "and in token of
amity shot off his lee ordnance"&mdash;a salute which Drake
at once acknowledged by a similar discharge. As the
ships neared each other, the stranger hailed Drake, saying
that he was Captain Tet&ucirc;, or Le Testu, a Frenchman of
Newhaven (or Havre), in desperate want of water. He
had been looking for Drake, he said, for the past five
weeks, "and prayed our Captain to help him to some
water, for that he had nothing but wine and cider aboard
him, which had brought his men into great sickness"&mdash;gastritis
or dysentery. Drake at once sent a boat aboard
with a cask or two of drink, and some fresh meat, "willing
him to follow us to the next port, where he should have
both water and victuals."</p>

<p>As soon as they had brought their ships to anchor, the
French captain sent Drake "a case of pistols, and a fair
gilt scimitar (which had been the late King's of France)
whom Monsieur Montgomery hurt in the eye." The<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">[83]</a></span>
Frenchman had received it from "Monsieur Strozze," or
Strozzi, a famous general of banditti. Drake accepted
the gift in the magnificent manner peculiar to him,
sending the bearer back to Tet&ucirc; with a chain of gold
supporting a tablet of enamel. Having exchanged gifts,
according to the custom of the sea, Captain Tet&ucirc; came
off to visit Drake. He was a Huguenot privateer, who
had been in France at the time of the Massacre of St
Bartholomew, the murder of Coligny, "and divers others
murders." He had "thought those Frenchmen the happiest
which were farthest from France," and had, therefore, put
to sea to escape from persecution. He was now cruising
off the Spanish Main, "a Man of war as we were." He
had heard much of Drake's spoils upon the coast, and
"desired to know" how he too might win a little Spanish
gold. His ship was a fine craft of more than eighty tons,
manned by seventy men and boys. He asked Drake to
take him into partnership, so that they might share the
next adventure.</p>

<p>The offer was not very welcome to Drake, for the
French company was more than double the strength of
the English. Drake had but thirty-one men left alive,
and he regarded Tet&ucirc; with a good deal of jealousy and
a good deal of distrust. Yet with only thirty-one men
he could hardly hope to succeed in any great adventure.
If he joined with the French, he thought there would be
danger of their appropriating most of the booty after
using him and his men as their tools. The English sailors
were of the same opinion; but it was at last decided that
Tet&ucirc;, with twenty picked hands, should be admitted to
partnership, "to serve with our Captain for halves." It
was something of a risk, but by admitting only twenty
of the seventy men the risk was minimised. They were
not enough to overpower Drake in case they wished to
make away with all the booty, yet they made him suffi<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">[84]</a></span>ciently
strong to attempt the schemes he had in hand.
An agreement was, therefore, signed; a boat was sent to
the secret anchorage to bring the Cimmeroons; and the
three ships then sailed away to the east, to the magazines
of food which Drake had stored some weeks before.</p>

<p>Here they lay at anchor for five or six days to enable
the sick Frenchmen to get their health and strength
after their weeks of misery. The Huguenot ship was
revictualled from the magazines and then taken with
the <i>Bear</i> into the secret haven. The third pinnace, the
<i>Lion</i>, had been sunk a few days before, but the other
two, the <i>Eion</i> and the <i>Minion</i>, with the new Tolu
frigate, were set in order for the next adventure. Drake
chose fifteen of his remaining thirty hands, and sent them
down into the pinnaces with a few Maroons. The twenty
Frenchmen joined him, under their captain, and the
expedition then set sail for Rio Francisco, fifteen miles
from Nombre de Dios. As they sailed, the Maroons gave
out that the frigate was too deep a ship to cross the Rio
Francisco bar, which had little water on it at that season
of the year. They, therefore, sailed her back, and left
her at the Cabezas, "manned with English and French, in
the charge of Richard Doble," with strict orders not to
venture out until the return of the pinnaces.</p>

<p>Putting her complement into the pinnaces, they again
set sail for the mouth of the Francisco River. They
crossed the bar without difficulty, and rowed their boats
upstream. They landed some miles from the sea, leaving
the pinnaces in charge of some Maroons. These had
orders to leave the river, and hide themselves in the
Cabezas, and to await the raiders at the landing-place,
without fail, in four days' time.</p>

<p>As soon as Drake had landed, he ordered the company
in the formation he had used on his march to Panama.
He enjoined strict silence upon all, and gave the word<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">[85]</a></span>
to march. They set forward silently, through the cane-brakes
and lush undergrowth, upon the long, seven leagues
march to the town of Nombre de Dios. They marched
all day uncomplainingly, so that at dusk they had crept
to within a mile of the trackway, a little to the south of
the town. They were now on some gently rising ground,
with the swamps and Nombre de Dios at their feet. It
made a good camping-ground; and there they passed the
night of the 31st of March, resting and feasting "in great
stillness, in a most convenient place." They were so close
to the town that they could hear the church bells ringing
and the clatter of the hammers in the bay, where the
carpenters were at work upon the treasure ships. They
were working there busily, beating in the rivets all night,
in the coolness, to fit the ships for sea. Nearer to them,
a little to the west, was the trackway, so that they could
hear the mule trains going past to Panama with a great
noise of ringing bells.</p>

<p>Early on the morning of the 1st of April they heard
a great clang of bells among the woods. The mule trains
were coming in from Venta Cruz&mdash;three mule trains
according to the Cimmeroons, laden with "more gold and
silver than all of us could bear away." The adventurers
took their weapons, and crept through the scrub to the
trackway "to hear the bells." In a few minutes, when
each side of the track had been manned by the adventurers,
the treasure trains trotted up with a great
clang and clatter. There were three complete recuas,
"one of 50 mules, the other two of 70 each, every of
which carried 300 lbs. of silver; which in all amounted
to near thirty tons." The trains were guarded by a half
company of Spanish foot, "fifteen to each company." The
soldiers marched by the side of the trains, blowing on
their matches to keep the smouldering ends alight. As
the leading mules came up with the head of the ambush<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">[86]</a></span>
Drake blew a blast upon his whistle. The raiders rose
from their hiding-place, and fired a volley of shot and
arrows at the troops. At the same moment tarry hands
were laid upon the heads of the leading mules, so that
"all the rest stayed and lay down as their manner is."
The Spanish soldiers, taken by surprise, were yet a credit
to their colours. They fell into confusion at the first
assault, but immediately rallied. A brisk skirmish began,
over the bodies of the mules, with sharp firing of muskets
and arrows. Captain Tet&ucirc; was hit in the belly with
a charge of hail-shot; a Maroon was shot dead; and then
the sailors cleared the road with a rush, driving the
Spanish pell-mell towards the town. Then with feverish
hands they cast adrift the mule packs "to ease some of
the mules, which were heaviest loaden, of their carriage."
They were among such wealth as few men have looked
upon at the one time. How much they took will never
now be known, but each man there had as much pure
gold, in bars and quoits, as he could carry. They buried
about fifteen tons of silver
<ins class="correction" title="Transcriber's Note: so in original">"partly</ins>
in the burrows which
the great land-crabs had made in the earth, and partly
under old trees which were fallen thereabout, and partly in
the sand and gravel of a river, "not very deep of water."
Some of it, no doubt, remains there to this day.</p>

<p>In about two hours' time, they were ready to return to
their pinnaces. They formed into order, and hurried
away towards the woods, making as much haste as the
weight of plunder would allow. As they gained the
shelter of the forest they heard a troop of horse, with
some arquebusiers, coming hurriedly to the rescue of
the mules. They attempted no pursuit, for no Spaniard
cared to enter the forest to attack a force in which
Maroons were serving. The raiders were, therefore, able
to get clear away into the jungle. All that day and the
next day they hurried eastward through the scrub.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">[87]</a></span>
They made a brief pause, as they tramped, to lay down
Captain Tet&ucirc;, whose wound prevented him from marching.
He could go no farther, and begged that he might
be left behind in the forest, "in hope that some rest would
recover him better strength." Two French sailors stayed
with him to protect him.</p>



<hr class="chapter" />
<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">[88]</a></span></p>
<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VI" id="CHAPTER_VI"></a>CHAPTER VI</h2>

<h3>THE ADVENTURE OF THE RAFT</h3>

<div class="blockquot"><p>Drake's voyage to the Catives&mdash;Homeward bound&mdash;The interrupted
sermon</p></div>


<p>When the retreating force had gone about two
leagues, they discovered that a Frenchman was
missing from the ranks. He had not been hurt in the
fight; but there was no time to search for him (as a matter
of fact, he had drunk too much wine, and had lost
himself in the woods), so again they pressed on to the
pinnaces and safety. On the 3rd of April, utterly worn
out with the hurry of the retreat, they came to the
Francisco River. They were staggering under the weight
of all their plunder, and, to complete their misery, they
were wet to the skin with a rain-storm which had raged
all night. To their horror they found no pinnaces awaiting
them, but out at sea, not far from the coast, were seven
Spanish pinnaces which had been beating up the inlets for
them. These were now rowing as though directly from
the rendezvous at the Cabezas, so that the draggled band
upon the shore made no doubt that their pinnaces had
been sunk, their friends killed or taken, and the retreat
cut off.</p>

<p>Drake's chief fear, on seeing these Spanish boats, was
that "they had compelled our men by torture to confess
where his frigate and ships were." To the disheartened
folk about him it seemed that all hope of returning home
was now gone, for they made no doubt that the ships were
by this time destroyed. Some of them flung down their<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">[89]</a></span>
gold in despair, while all felt something of the general
panic. The Maroons recommended that the march should
be made by land, "though it were sixteen days' journey,"
promising them that, if the ships were taken, they might
sojourn among them in the forest as long as they wished.
The sailors were in too great "distress and
<ins class="correction" title="Transcriber's Note: original lacks &quot;">perplexity"</ins>
to listen to counsel; but Drake had a genius for handling
situations of the kind, and he now came forward to quell
the uproar. The men were babbling and swearing in open
mutiny, and the case demanded violent remedy. He
called for silence, telling the mutineers that he was no
whit better off than they were; that it was no time to give
way to fear, but a time to keep a stiff upper lip, and play
the man. He reminded them that, even if the Spaniards
had taken the pinnaces, "which God forbid," "yet they must
have time to search them, time to examine the mariners,
time to execute their resolution after it is determined."
"Before all these times be taken," he exclaimed angrily,
"we may get to our ships if ye will." They might not
hope to go by land, he said, for it would take too long,
and the ways would be too foul. But why should they
not go by water? There was the river at their feet,
roaring down in full spate, tumbling the trunks of trees
destroyed in last night's storm. Why in the world should
they not make a raft of the trees, "and put ourselves to
sea"? "I will be one," he concluded, "who will be the
other?" The appeal went home to the sailors. An
Englishman named John Smith at once came forward, with
a couple of Frenchmen "who could swim very well." The
Maroons formed into a line beside the river, and the tree
trunks were caught and hauled ashore to form the body of
the raft. The branches were trimmed with the hatchets
they had brought to clear a path through the forest. The
boles were fastened together with thongs stolen from the
recua, and with the pliant bejuca growing all about them.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">[90]</a></span>
The men worked merrily, convinced that Drake would
find a way to bring the ship to them. As soon as the
raft was built, a mast was stepped in her, on which a
biscuit sack was hoisted for a sail. A young tree, working
in a crutch, served them as a steering oar. The four men
went aboard, a line was laid out to the bar, and the
curious raft was hauled off into the sea. The last of the
storm of the night before was still roaring up aloft. A
high sea was running, and the wind blew strong from the
west. Drake put his helm up, and stood off before it,
crying out to the company that "if it pleased God, he
should put his foot in safety aboard his frigate, he would,
God willing, by one means or other get them all aboard,
in despite of all the Spaniards in the Indies."</p>

<p>Those who have sailed on a raft in calm water will
appreciate the courage of Drake's deed. The four men
aboard her had to squat in several inches of salt water,
holding on for their lives, while the green seas came racing
over them "to the arm pits" at "every surge of the wave."
The day was intensely hot in spite of the wind, and
"what with the parching of the sun and what with the
beating of the salt water, they had all of them their skins
much fretted away." With blistered and cracking faces,
parched with the heat and the salt, and shivering from the
continual immersion, they sailed for six hours, making
about a knot and a half an hour. When they had made
their third league "God gave them the sight of two
pinnaces" beating towards them under oars and sail, and
making heavy weather of it. The sight of the boats was
a great joy to the four sufferers on the raft. They edged
towards them as best they could, crying out that all was
safe, "so that there was no cause of fear." It was now
twilight, and the wind, already fierce, was blowing up into
a gale. In the failing light, with the spray sweeping into
their eyes, the men aboard the pinnaces could not see the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">[91]</a></span>
raft, nor could they make headway towards her with the
wind as it was. As Drake watched, he saw them bear up
for a cove to the lee of a point of land, where they could
shelter for the night. He waited a few moments to see if
they would put forth again, but soon saw that they had
anchored. He then ran his raft ashore to windward of
them, on the other side of the headland. He was very
angry with the pinnaces' hands for their disobedience of
orders. Had they done as he had commanded them, they
would have been in the Francisco River the night before,
and all the pains and danger of the raft would have been
unnecessary. Drake, therefore, resolved to play a trick
upon them. As soon as he landed, he set off running to
the haven where the boats lay, followed by John Smith
and the two Frenchmen&mdash;all running "in great haste," "as
if they had been chased by the enemy." The hands in
the pinnaces saw the four men hurrying towards them,
and at once concluded that the Spaniards had destroyed
the expedition, and that these four hunted wretches were
the sole survivors. In an agony of suspense they got the
four men into the boats, eagerly asking where the others
were, and in what state. To these inquiries "he answered
coldly, 'Well'"&mdash;an answer which convinced them that
their mates were either dead or in the hands of the
Spaniards. Drake watched their misery for a little while,
and then being "willing to rid all doubts, and fill them
with joy," he took from the bosom of his shirt "a quoit of
gold," giving thanks to God that the voyage was at last
"made." Some Frenchmen were in the boat, and to these
he broke the news of Captain Tet&ucirc;'s wound and how he
had been left behind in the forest, "and two of his company
with him." He then bade the men to get the grapnels up,
as he was determined to row to the Rio Francisco that
night. After the anchors were raised, and the oars
shipped, a few hours of desperate rowing brought them to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">[92]</a></span>
the river's mouth, where the company had camped about a
fire. By the dawn of the next day the whole expedition
was embarked, and the pinnaces (their planking cracking
with the weight of treasure) were running eastward with a
fresh wind dead astern. They picked up the frigate that
morning, and then stood on for the ships, under sail, with
great joy. Soon they were lying safe at anchor in the
shelter of the secret haven at Fort Diego. All the gold
and silver were laid together in a heap, and there in the
full view of all hands, French and English, Drake weighed
it on the steward's meat scales, dividing it into two
equal portions, to the satisfaction of everyone. The
French took their portion aboard their ship as soon
as it had been allotted to them. They then begged
Drake for some more sea-stores, to fit them for the
sea, and he gave them a quantity of provisions from
his secret magazines. They then filled their water casks,
and stood away to the west, to cruise for a few days
off the Cabezas in the hope of obtaining news of
Captain Tet&ucirc;.</p>

<p>As soon as they had gone, Drake ordered his old ship,
the <i>Pascha</i>, to be stripped of all things necessary for the
fitting of the frigate, the Spanish prize. The long months
at Port Diego had left her very foul, and it was easier
to dismantle her than to fit her for the sea. While she
was being stripped to equip the frigate, Drake organised
another expedition to recover Captain Tet&ucirc; and the
buried silver. His men would not allow him to take a
part in this final adventure, so Oxenham, and one Thomas
Sherwell, were placed in command. Drake accompanied
them as far as the Francisco River, taking an oar in one
of the pinnaces which conveyed them. As they rowed
lightly up the stream, the reeds were thrust aside, and
one of Captain Tet&ucirc;'s two comrades came staggering out,
and fell upon his knees. In a broken voice he thanked<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">[93]</a></span>
God that ever Drake was born to deliver him thus, after
he had given up all hope.</p>

<p>He told them that he had been surprised by the
Spaniards half-an-hour after he had taken up his post
beside his wounded captain. As the Spaniards came
upon them, he took to his heels, followed by his mate.
He had been carrying a lot of pillage, but as he ran
he threw it all away, including a box of jewels, which
caught his mate's eye as it fell in the grass. "His fellow
took it up, and burdened himself so sore that he could
make no speed," so that the Spaniards soon overtook him,
and carried him away with Captain Tet&ucirc;. Having taken
two of the three Frenchmen, the Spaniards were content
to leave the chase, and the poor survivor had contrived to
reach the Rio Francisco after several days of wandering
in the woods. As for the silver which they had buried
so carefully in the sands, "he thought that it was all
gone ... for that ... there had been near two thousand
Spaniards and Negroes there to dig and search for it."
Notwithstanding this report, John Oxenham with a company
of twenty-seven men, marched west to view the
place. He found that the earth "every way a mile
distant had been digged and turned up," for the Spaniards
had put their captives to the torture to learn what had
been done with the treasure. Most of it had been recovered
by this means, "yet nevertheless, for all that
narrow search," a little of the dew of heaven was still
glimmering in the crab-holes. The company was able
to rout out some quantity of refined gold, with thirteen
bars of silver, weighing some forty pounds apiece. With
this spoil upon their backs, they returned to the Rio
Francisco, where the pinnaces took them off to the
frigate.</p>

<p>Now that the voyage was made, it was "high time
to think of homeward," before the Spaniards should<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94">[94]</a></span>
fit out men-of-war against them. Drake was anxious
to give the <i>Pascha</i> to the Spanish prisoners, as some
compensation for their weeks of captivity. He could not
part with her, however, till he had secured another vessel
to act as tender, or victualler, to his little frigate. He
determined to make a cast to the east, as far as the Rio
Grande, to look for some suitable ship. The Huguenot
privateer, which had been lying off the Cabezas, sailed
eastward in his company, having abandoned Captain
Tet&ucirc; and his two shipmates to the mercies of the
Spaniards. They stood along the coast together as
far as the Isles of San Barnardo, where the French
ship parted company. The Spanish plate fleet, with
its guard of galleons, was riding at the entry to
Cartagena, and the Frenchmen feared that by coming
too near they might be taken. They, therefore, saluted
Drake with guns and colours, and shaped their course
for Hispaniola and home.</p>

<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;">
<a name="img126" id="img126"></a>
<a href="https://brian.carnell.com/wiki/_media/etext:j:john-masefield-on-the-spanish-main-126.jpg"><img src="https://brian.carnell.com/wiki/_media/etext:j:john-masefield-on-the-spanish-main-126_th.jpg" width="400" height="320"
alt="SHIP AND FLYING FISH" title="SHIP AND FLYING FISH" /></a>
<span class="caption">SHIP AND FLYING FISH</span>
</div>

<p>But Drake held on in his way in a bravery, determined
to see the Rio Grande before returning home. He sailed
past Cartagena almost within gunshot, "in the sight of
all the Fleet, with a flag of St George in the main top
of our frigate, with silk streamers and ancients down
to the water, sailing forward with a large wind." Late
that night they arrived off the mouth of the Rio Grande,
where they shortened sail, "and lay off and on." At
midnight the wind veered round to the eastward, so
that the victuallers at anchor in the river were able to
set sail for Cartagena. About two o'clock in the morning
a frigate slipped over the bar under small sail, and ran
past Drake towards the west. The English at once opened
fire upon her with their shot and arrows, to which the
Spaniards replied with their quick-firing guns. While
the English gunners plied her with missiles a pinnace
laid her aboard, at which the Spaniards leaped overboard<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">[95]</a></span>
and swam for the shore. The newly taken frigate proved
to be some seven or eight tons larger than the one
in which the English had come to the east. She was
laden with maize, hens, and hogs, and a large quantity
of honey from the wild bees of Nueva Reyna. As
soon as the day dawned, the two frigates sailed
away again to the Cabezas to prepare for the voyage
home.</p>

<p>The prize's cargo was discharged upon the beach. Both
frigates were then hove down, and the Spanish prisoners
(taken some weeks before) were allowed to depart aboard
the <i>Pascha</i>. The barnacles were scrubbed and burned
off the frigates; their bends were resheathed and retallowed;
the provisions were stowed in good trim;
water casks were filled; and all things set in order for
the voyage. The dainty pinnaces, which had done them
such good service, and carried them so many weary miles,
were then torn to pieces, and burned, "that the Cimaroons
might have the iron-work." Lastly, Drake asked Pedro
and three Maroon chiefs to go through both the frigates
"to see what they liked." He wished them to choose
themselves some farewell gifts, and promised them that
they should have what they asked, unless it were essential
to the safety of the vessels. We are not told the choice
of the three Maroon chiefs, but we read that Pedro chose
the "fair gilt scimitar," the gift of Captain Tet&ucirc;, which
had once belonged to Henri II. of France. Drake had not
meant to part with it, but Pedro begged for it so prettily,
through the mouth of one Francis Tucker, that Drake
gave it him "with many good words," together with a
quantity of silk and linen for the wives of those who
had marched with him. They then bade adieu to the
delighted Pedro and his fellows, for it was time to set
sail for England. With a salute of guns and colours,
with the trumpets sounding, and the ships' companies<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96">[96]</a></span>
to give a cheer, the two little frigates slipped out of their
harbour, and stood away under all sail for Cape St
Antonio. They took a small barque laden with hides
upon the way, but dismissed her as being useless to them
after they had robbed her of her pump. At Cape St
Antonio they salted and dried a number of turtles, as
provisions for the voyage. Then they took their departure
cheerfully towards the north, intending to call at Newfoundland
to fill with water. The wind blew steadily
from the south and west to blow them home, so that
this scheme was abandoned. Abundant rain supplied
their water casks, the wind held steady, the sun shone,
and the blue miles slipped away. "Within twenty-three
days" they passed "from the Cape of Florida to the
Isles of Scilly," the two Spanish frigates being admirable
sailers. With the silk streamers flying in a bravery the
two ships sailed into Plymouth "on Sunday, about sermon
time, August the 9th, 1573." There they dropped anchor
to the thunder of the guns, to the great joy of all the
townsfolk. "The news of our Captain's return ... did so
speedily pass over all the church, and surpass their minds
with desire and delight to see him, that very few or none
remained with the Preacher, all hastening to see the
evidence of God's love and blessing towards our Gracious
Queen and country, by the fruit of our Captain's labour
and success. <i>Soli Deo Gloria.</i>"</p>

<p>We may take leave of him at this point, with the
Plymouth bells ringing him a welcome and the worshippers
flocking down to see him land.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97">[97]</a></span></p>

<div class="blockquot"><p><i>Note.</i>&mdash;"There were at the time," says the narrative, "belonging to
Cartagena, Nombre de Dios, Rio Grande, Santa Marta, Rio de la Hacha,
Venta Cruz, Veragua, Nicaragua, the Honduras, Jamaica, etc.; above
200 frigates; some of 120 tons, others but of 10 or 12 tons, but the most
of 30 or 40 tons, which all had intercourse between Cartagena and Nombre
de Dios. The most of which, during our abode in those parts, we took; and
some of them twice or thrice each."</p>

<p>Most of these frigates were provision ships, but in all of them, no doubt,
there was a certain amount of gold and silver, besides uncut jewels or pearls
from the King's Islands. We do not know the amount of Drake's plunder,
but with the spoil of all these frigates, added to the loot of the recua, it
must have been very considerable. He may have made as much as &pound;40,000,
or more, or less. It is as well to put the estimate low.</p></div>



<hr class="chapter" />
<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98">[98]</a></span></p>
<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VII" id="CHAPTER_VII"></a>CHAPTER VII</h2>

<h3>JOHN OXENHAM</h3>

<div class="blockquot"><p>The voyage&mdash;His pinnace&mdash;Into the South Sea&mdash;Disaster&mdash;His
unhappy end</p></div>


<p>The John Oxenham, or Oxnam, who followed Drake
to Nombre de Dios, and stood with him that sunny
day watching the blue Pacific from the tree-top, was a
Devonshire gentleman from South Tawton. He was of
good family and well to do. He may, perhaps, have given
money towards the fitting out of Drake's squadron. It
is at least certain that he held in that voyage a
position of authority considerably greater than that of
"soldier, mariner, and cook"&mdash;the rates assigned to him
by Sir Richard Hawkins. On his return from the
Nombre de Dios raid, he disappears, and it is uncertain
whether he followed Drake to Ireland, or settled down
at home in Devonshire. He did not forget the oath he
had sworn to his old Captain, to follow him to the South
Sea in God's good time. But after waiting a year or
two, and finding that Drake was not ready to attempt
that adventure, he determined to go at his own charge,
with such men as he could find. He was well known in
the little Devon seaports as a bold sailor and fiery sea-captain.
He was "a fine figure of a man," and the glory
of Drake's raid was partly his. He was looked upon as
one of the chief men in that foray. He had, therefore,
little difficulty in getting recruits for a new voyage to the
Main.</p>

<p>In the year 1574 he set sail from Plymouth in a fine
ship of 140 tons, with a crew of seventy men and boys.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99">[99]</a></span>
He made a fair passage to the Main, and anchored in
Drake's old anchorage&mdash;either that of the secret haven,
in the Gulf of Darien, or that farther west, among the
Catives. Here he went ashore, and made friends with
the Maroons, some of whom, no doubt, were old acquaintances,
still gay with beads or iron-work which he had
given them two years before. They told him that the
treasure trains "from Panama to Nombre de Dios" were
now strongly guarded by Spanish soldiers, so that he
might not hope to win such a golden booty as Drake
had won, by holding up a recua on the march. Oxenham,
therefore, determined "to do that which never any man
before enterprised"&mdash;by leaving his ship, marching over
the watershed, building a pinnace in the woods, and
going for a cruise on the South Sea. He dragged his
ship far into the haven, struck her topmasts, and left her
among the trees, beached on the mud, and covered with
green boughs so as to be hidden from view. Her great
guns were swung ashore, and buried, and the graves of
them strewn with leaves and brushwood. He then armed
his men with their calivers and their sacks of victual,
"and so went with the Negroes," dragging with them two
small guns, probably quick-firing guns, mounted on staves
of wood or iron. Hawkins says that he left four or five
men behind him as shipkeepers. After a march of "about
twelve leagues into the maine-land" the Maroons brought
him to a river "that goeth to the South Sea." Here the
party halted, and built themselves little huts of boughs to
live in while they made themselves a ship.</p>

<p>They cut down some trees here, and built themselves
a pinnace "which was five and fortie foot by the keele."
They seem to have brought their sails and tackling with
them, but had they not done so they could have made
shift with the rough Indian cloth and the fibrous, easily
twisted bark of the maho-tree. Having built this little<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100">[100]</a></span>
ship, they went aboard of her, and dropped downstream
to the Pacific&mdash;the first English crew, but not the first
Englishman, to sail those waters. Six negroes came with
them to act as guides. As soon as they had sailed out
of the river's mouth, they made for the Pearl Islands, or
Islands of the King, "which is five and twentie leagues
from Panama." Here they lay very close, in some snug
inlet hidden from the sea. Some of them went inland
to a rocky cliff, to watch the seas for ships coming northward
from Peru with treasure from the gold and silver
mines. The islands are in the fairway between Panama
and Lima, but ten days passed before the watchers saw
a sail, and cried out to those in the boat. "There came
a small Barke by, which came from Peru, from a place
called Quito"; and the pinnace dashed alongside of her,
and carried her by the sword, before her sailors learned
what was the matter. She was laden with "sixtie thousand
pezos of golde, and much victuals." John Oxenham took
her lading, and kept the barque by him, while he stayed
on at the islands. At the end of six days, another
"barke" came by, from Lima, "in whiche he tooke an
hundred thousand pezos of silver in barres." This was
plunder enough to "make" any voyage, and with this
John Oxenham was content. Before he sailed away,
however, he marched upon one or two of the Pearl
fisheries, where he found a few
<ins class="correction" title="Transcriber's Note: original has , instead of .">pearls.</ins>
He then sailed
northward to the river's mouth taking his prizes with
him, with all the prisoners.</p>

<p>At the river's mouth he very foolishly "sent away the
two prizes that hee tooke"&mdash;a piece of clemency which
knotted the rope under his ear. He then sailed up the
river, helping his pinnace by poles, oars, and warps, but
making slow progress.</p>

<p>Before he reached this river, the negroes of the Pearl
Islands sent word to the Governor of Panama that English<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101">[101]</a></span>
pirates had been in those seas plundering their fisheries.
"Within two days" the Governor despatched four galleys,
"with negroes to rowe," and twenty-five musketeers in
each galley, under the Captain John de Ortega, to search
the Pearl Islands very thoroughly for those robbers. They
reached the islands, learned in which direction the pirate
ships had gone, and rowed away north to overtake them.
As they came near the land, they fell in with the two
prizes, the men of which were able to tell them how the
pirates had gone up the river but a few days before.</p>

<p>John de Ortega came to the river's mouth with his four
galleys, and "knew not which way to take, because there
were three partitions in the river, to goe up in." He
decided at last to go up the greatest, and was actually
rowing towards it, when "he saw comming down a lesser
river many feathers of hennes, which the Englishmen had
pulled to eate." These drifting feathers, thrown overboard
so carelessly, decided the Spanish captain. He
turned up the lesser river "where he saw the feathers,"
and bade his negroes give way heartily. Four days
later, he saw the English pinnace drawn up on the river-bank
"upon the sands," guarded by six of her crew.
The musketeers at once fired a volley, which killed one
of the Englishmen, and sent the other five scattering
to the cover of the woods. There was nothing in the
pinnace but bread and meat. All the gold pezoes and
the bars of silver had been landed.</p>

<p>The presence of the boat guard warned the Spanish
captain that the main body of the pirates was near at
hand. He determined to land eighty of his musketeers
to search those woods before returning home. "Hee
had not gone half a league" before he found one of the
native huts, thatched with palm leaves, in which were
"all the Englishmen's goods and the gold and silver
also." The Englishmen were lying about the hut, many<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102">[102]</a></span>
of them unarmed, with no sentry keeping a lookout
for them. Taken by surprise as they were, they ran
away into the woods, leaving all things in the hands of
the Spaniards. The Spaniards carried the treasure back
to the galleys, and rowed slowly down the river "without
following the Englishmen any further."</p>

<p>It appeared later, that Oxenham had ordered his men
to carry the gold and silver from the place where they
had hauled the pinnace ashore, to the place where the
ship was hidden. To this the mariners joyfully assented,
"for hee promised to give them part of it besides their
wages." Unfortunately, they wished this "part of it"
paid to them at once, before they shifted an ingot&mdash;a
want which seemed to reflect upon John Oxenham's
honour. He was naturally very angry "because they
would not take his word" to pay them something handsome
when he reached home. He was a choleric sea-captain,
and began, very naturally, to damn them for
their insolence. "He fell out with them, and they with
him," says Hakluyt. One of them, stung by his Captain's
curses, "would have killed the Captaine" there and then,
with his caliver,<a name="FNanchor_2_2" id="FNanchor_2_2"></a><a href="#Footnote_2_2" class="fnanchor">[2]</a> or sailor's knife. This last act was too
much. Oxenham gave them a few final curses, and told
them that, if such were their temper, they should not so
much as touch a quoit of the treasure, but that he would
get Maroons to carry it. He then left them, and went
alone into the forest to find Maroons for the porterage.
As he came back towards the camp, with a gang of
negroes, he met the five survivors of the boat guard
"and the rest also which ran from the house," all very
penitent and sorry now that the mischief had been done.
They told him of the loss of the treasure, and looked to
him for guidance and advice, promising a better behaviour
in the future. Oxenham told them that if they helped<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103">[103]</a></span>
him to recover the treasure, they should have half of
it, "if they got it from the Spaniards." "The Negroes
promised to help him with their bows and arrows," and
with this addition to their force they set off down the
river-bank in pursuit.</p>

<p>After three days' travelling, they came upon the
Spaniards, in camp, on the bank of the river, apparently
in some strong position, sheltered with trees.
Oxenham at once fell on "with great fury," exposing
himself and his men to the bullets of the musketeers.
The Spaniards were used to woodland fighting. Each
musketeer retired behind a tree, and fired from behind
it, without showing more than his head and shoulders,
and then but for a moment. The Englishmen charged
up the slope to the muzzles of the guns, but were repulsed
with loss, losing eleven men killed and five men taken
alive. The number of wounded is not stated. The
negroes, who were less active in the charge, lost only
five men. The
<ins class="correction" title="Transcriber's Note: so in original">Spaniards</ins>
loss was two killed "and five
sore hurt." The English were beaten off the ground,
and routed. They made no attempt to rally, and did
not fall on a second time.</p>

<p>The Spanish captain asked his prisoners why they had
not crossed the isthmus to their ship in the days before
the pursuit began. To this the prisoners answered with
the tale of their mutinies, adding that their Captain would
not stay longer in those parts now that his company had
been routed. The Spaniards then buried their dead, retired
on board their galleys, and rowed home to Panama,
taking with them their prisoners and the English pinnace.
When they arrived in that city, the prisoners were
tortured till they confessed where their ship was hidden.
Advice was then sent to Nombre de Dios, where four
pinnaces were at once equipped to seek out the secret
haven. They soon found the ship, "and brought her<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104">[104]</a></span>
to Nombre de Dios," where her guns and buried stores
were divided among the King's ships employed in the
work of the coast. While this search for the ship
was being made, the Viceroy of Peru sent out 150
musketeers to destroy the "fiftie English men" remaining
alive. These troops, conducted by Maroons, soon
found the English in a camp by the river, "making of
certaine Canoas to goe into the North Sea, and there
to take some Bark or other." Many of them were sick
and ill, "and were taken." The rest escaped into the
forest, where they tried to make some arrangement with
the negroes. The negroes, it seems, were angry with
Oxenham for his failure to keep his word to them. They
had agreed to help him on condition that they might
have all the Spanish prisoners to torture "to feed their
insatiable revenges." Oxenham had released his prisoners,
as we have seen, and the Maroons had been disappointed
of their dish of roasted Spaniards' hearts. They were
naturally very angry, and told John Oxenham, when
he came to them for help, that his misfortunes were
entirely due to his own folly. Had he kept his word,
they said, he would have reached his ship without suffering
these reverses. After a few days, being weary of
keeping so many foreigners, they betrayed the English
sailors to the Spaniards. "They were brought to
Panama," to the justice of that city, who asked John
Oxenham "whether hee had the Queene's licence, or the
licence of any other Prince or Lord, for his attempt."
To this John Oxenham answered that he had no licence
saving his sword. He was then condemned to death
with the rest of his company, with the exception of two
(or five) ships' boys. After a night or two in Panama
prison, within sound of the surf of the Pacific, the mariners
were led out, and shot. Oxenham and the master and
the pilot were sent to Lima, where they were hanged<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105">[105]</a></span>
as pirates in the square of the city. A force of musketeers
was then sent into the interior, to reduce the Maroons
"which had assisted those English men." The punitive
force "executed great justice," till "the Negroes grew wise
and wary," after which there was no more justice to be done.
The ships' boys, who were spared, were probably sold as
slaves in Lima, or Panama. They probably lived in those
towns for the rest of their lives, and may have become good
Catholics, and wealthy, after due probation under the whip.</p>

<p>Sir Richard Hawkins, who was in Panama in 1593, and
who may have heard a Spanish version of the history,
tells us that aboard the treasure ship taken by Oxenham
were "two peeces of speciall estimation: the one a table
of massie gold, with emralds ... a present to the King;
the other a lady of singular beautie." According to Sir
Richard, John Oxenham fell in love with this lady, and
it was through her prayers that he released the other
prisoners. He is said to have "kept the lady" when
he turned the other prisoners away. The lady's "sonne,
or a nephew," who was among those thus discharged,
made every effort to redeem his mother (or aunt). He
prayed so vehemently and "with such diligence," to the
Governor at Panama, that the four galleys were granted
to him "within few howers." The story is not corroborated;
but Oxenham was very human, and Spanish
beauty, like other beauty, is worth sinning for.</p>

<p>A year or two later, Captain Andrew Barker of Bristol,
while cruising off the Main, captured a Spanish frigate
"between Chagre and Veragua." On board of her, pointing
through the port-holes, were four cast-iron guns which
had been aboard John Oxenham's ship. They were brought
to England, and left in the Scilly Islands, <span class="smcap lowercase">A.D.</span> 1576.</p>

<div class="blockquot"><p><i>Note.</i>&mdash;The story of John Oxenham is taken from "Purchas his Pilgrimes,"
vol. iv. (the original large 4to edition); and from Hakluyt, vol. iii. p. 526.
Another version of the tale is given in Sir R. Hawkins' "Observations." He
is also mentioned in Hakluyt's account of Andrew Barker.</p></div>



<hr class="chapter" />
<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106">[106]</a></span></p>
<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VIII" id="CHAPTER_VIII"></a>CHAPTER VIII</h2>

<h3>THE SPANISH RULE IN HISPANIOLA</h3>

<div class="blockquot"><p>Rise of the buccaneers&mdash;The hunters of the wild bulls&mdash;Tortuga&mdash;Buccaneer
politics&mdash;Buccaneer customs</p></div>


<p>In 1492, when Columbus landed on Hayti, he found
there about 1,000,000 Indians, of a gentle refinement
of manners, living peaceably under their kings or
caciques. They were "faint-hearted creatures," "a barbarous
sort of people, totally given to sensuality and a
brutish custom of life, hating all manner of labour,
and only inclined to run from place to place." The
Spaniards killed many thousands of them, hunted a
number with their bloodhounds, sent a number to work
the gold-mines, and caused about a third of the population
to commit suicide or die of famine. They discouraged
sensuality and a distaste for work so zealously that
within twenty years they had reduced the population to
less than a twentieth part of its original 1,000,000 of souls.
They then called the island Hispaniola, and built a city,
on the south coast, as the capital. This city they called
Nueva Ysabel, in honour of the Queen of Spain, but the
name was soon changed to that of St Domingo.<a name="FNanchor_3_3" id="FNanchor_3_3"></a><a href="#Footnote_3_3" class="fnanchor">[3]</a></p>

<p>Those Indians who were not enslaved, retired to the
inmost parts of the island, to the shelter of the thickest
woods, where they maintained themselves by hunting.
The swine and cattle, which had belonged to their fellows
in their prosperous days, ran wild, and swarmed all over
the island in incredible numbers. The dogs of the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107">[107]</a></span>
caciques also took to the woods, where they ranged in packs
of two or three score, hunting the wild swine and the
calves. The Spaniards seem to have left the interior of
the island to the few survivors, as they had too few slaves
to cultivate it. They settled themselves at St Domingo,
and at various places upon the coast, such as Santiago
and St John of Goave. They planted tobacco, sugar,
chocolate, and ginger, and carried on a considerable trade
with the cities on the Main and in the mother country.</p>

<p>Hayti, or Hispaniola, is in the fairway of ships coming
from Europe towards the Main. It was at one time
looked upon as the landfall to be made before proceeding
west to Vera Cruz or south to Cartagena. The French,
English, and Hollanders, who visited those seas "maugre
the King of Spain's beard," discovered it at a very early
date. They were not slow to recognise its many advantages.
The Spanish, who fiercely resented the presence
of any foreigners in a part of the world apportioned to
Spain by the Pope, did all they could to destroy them
whenever they had the opportunity. But the Spanish
population in the Indies was small, and spread over a
vast area, and restricted, by Government rules, to certain
lines of action. They could not patrol the Indies with
a number of guarda costas sufficient to exclude all foreign
ships, nor could they set guards, in forts, at every estancia
or anchorage in the vast coast-line of the islands. Nor
could they enforce the Spanish law, which forbade the
settlers to trade with the merchants of other countries.
It often happened that a ship from France, Holland, or
England arrived upon the coasts of Hispaniola, or some
other Spanish colony, off some settlement without a
garrison. The settlers in these out-of-the-way places
were very glad to trade with such ships, for the freight
they brought was cheaper and of better quality than that
which paid duty to their King. The goods were landed,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_108" id="Page_108">[108]</a></span>
and paid for. The ships sent their crews ashore to fill
fresh water or to reprovision, and then sailed home for
Europe, to return the next year with new goods. On
the St Domingo or Hispaniola coasts there are countless
creeks and inlets, making good harbours, where these
smuggling ships might anchor or careen. The land was
well watered and densely wooded, so that casks could be
filled, and firewood obtained, without difficulty on any
part of the coast. Moreover, the herds of wild cattle and
droves of wild boars enabled the ships to reprovision
without cost. Before the end of the sixteenth century, it
had become the custom for privateers to recruit upon the
coast of Hispaniola, much as Drake recruited at Port
Plenty. The ships used to sail or warp into some snug
cove, where they could be laid upon the careen to allow
their barnacles to be burned away. The crews then landed,
and pitched themselves tents of sails upon the beach, while
some of their number took their muskets, and went to kill
the cattle in the woods. In that climate, meat does not
keep for more than a few hours, and it often happened
that the mariners had little salt to spare for the salting
of their kill. They, therefore, cured the meat in a manner
they had learned from the Carib Indians. The process
will be described later on.</p>

<p>The Spanish guarda costas, which were swift small
vessels like the frigates Drake captured on the Main,
did all they could to suppress the illegal trafficking.
Their captains had orders to take no prisoners, and every
"interloper" who fell into their hands was either hanged,
like Oxenham, or shot, like Oxenham's mariners. The
huntsmen in the woods were sometimes fired at by parties
of Spaniards from the towns. There was continual war
between the Spaniards, the surviving natives, and the
interlopers. But when the Massacre of St Bartholomew
drove many Huguenots across the water to follow the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_109" id="Page_109">[109]</a></span>
fortunes of captains like Le Testu, and when the news
of Drake's success at Nombre de Dios came to England,
the interlopers began to swarm the seas in dangerous
multitudes. Before 1580, the western coast of Hispaniola
had become a sort of colony, to which the desperate and
the adventurous came in companies. The ships used to lie
at anchor in the creeks, while a number of the men from
each ship went ashore to hunt cattle and wild boars.
Many of the sailors found the life of the hunter passing
pleasant. There were no watches to keep, no master to
obey, no bad food to grumble at, and, better still, no
work to do, save the pleasant work of shooting cattle for
one's dinner. Many of them found the life so delightful
that they did not care to leave it when the time came for
their ships to sail for Europe. Men who had failed to
win any booty on the "Terra Firma," and had no jolly
drinking-bout to look for on the quays at home, were
often glad to stay behind at the hunting till some more
fortunate captain should put in in want of men. Shipwrecked
men, men who were of little use at sea, men
"who had disagreed with their commander," began to
settle on the coast in little fellowships.<a name="FNanchor_4_4" id="FNanchor_4_4"></a><a href="#Footnote_4_4" class="fnanchor">[4]</a> They set on foot
a regular traffic with the ships which anchored there. They
killed great quantities of meat, which they exchanged
(to the ships' captains) for strong waters, muskets, powder
and ball, woven stuffs, and iron-ware. After a time, they
began to preserve the hides, "by pegging them out very
tite on the Ground,"&mdash;a commodity of value, by which they
made much money. The bones they did not seem to have
utilised after they had split them for their marrow. The
tallow and suet were sold to the ships&mdash;the one to grease
the ships' bottoms when careened, the other as an article
for export to the European countries. It was a wild life,
full of merriment and danger. The Spaniards killed a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_110" id="Page_110">[110]</a></span>
number of them, both French and English, but the
casualties on the Spanish side were probably a good
deal the heavier. The huntsmen became more numerous.
For all that the Spaniards could do, their settlements
and factories grew larger. The life attracted people, in
spite of all its perils, just as tunny fishing attracted the
young gallant in Cervantes. A day of hunting in the
woods, a night of jollity, with songs, over a cup of drink,
among adventurous companions&mdash;<i>qu&eacute; cosa tan bonita!</i>
We cannot wonder that it had a fascination. If a few
poor fellows in their leather coats lay out on the
savannahs with Spanish bullets in their skulls, the rum
went none the less merrily about the camp fires of those
who got away.</p>

<p>In 1586, on New Year's Day to be exact, Sir Francis
Drake arrived off Hispaniola with his fleet. He had a
Greek pilot with him, who helped him up the roads to
within gunshot of St Domingo. The old Spanish city
was not prepared for battle, and the Governor made of it
"a New Year's gift" to the valorous raiders. The town
was sacked, and the squadron sailed away to pillage
Cartagena and St Augustine. Drake's raid was so
successful that privateers came swarming in his steps
to plunder the weakened Spanish towns. They settled on
the west and north-west coasts of Hispaniola, compelling
any Spanish settlers whom they found to retire to the east
and south. The French and English had now a firm
foothold in the Indies. Without assistance from their
respective Governments they had won the right to live
there, "maugre the King of Spain's beard." In a few
years' time, they had become so prosperous that the
Governments of France and England resolved to plant
a colony in the Caribbee Islands, or Lesser Antilles. They
thought that such a colony would be of benefit to the
earlier adventurers by giving them official recognition and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_111" id="Page_111">[111]</a></span>
protection. A royal colony of French and English was,
therefore, established on the island of St Christopher, or
St Kitts, one of the Caribbees, to the east of Hispaniola,
in the year 1625. The island was divided between the
two companies. They combined very amicably in a
murderous attack upon the natives, and then fell to
quarrelling about the possession of an island to the
south.</p>

<p>As the Governments had foreseen, their action in establishing
a colony upon St Kitts did much to stimulate
the settlements in Hispaniola. The hunters went farther
afield, for the cattle had gradually left the western coast
for the interior. The anchorages by Cape Tiburon, or
"Cape Shark," and Samana, were filled with ships, both
privateers and traders, loading with hides and tallow or
victualling for a raid upon the Main. The huntsmen and
hidecurers, French and English, had grown wealthy.
Many of them had slaves, in addition to other valuable
property. Their growing wealth made them anxious to
secure themselves from any sudden attack by land
or sea.</p>

<p>At the north-west end of Hispaniola, separated from that
island by a narrow strip of sea, there is a humpbacked
little island, a few miles long, rather hilly in its centre,
and very densely wooded. At a distance it resembles a
swimming turtle, so that the adventurers on Hispaniola
called it Tortuga, or Turtle Island. Later on, it was
known as Petit Guaves. Between this Tortuga and the
larger island there was an excellent anchorage for ships,
which had been defended at one time by a Spanish
garrison. The Spaniards had gone away, leaving the
place unguarded. The wealthier settlers seized the island,
built themselves factories and houses, and made it "their
head-quarters, or place of general rendezvous." After
they had settled there, they seem to have thought them<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_112" id="Page_112">[112]</a></span>selves
secure.<a name="FNanchor_5_5" id="FNanchor_5_5"></a><a href="#Footnote_5_5" class="fnanchor">[5]</a> In 1638 the Spaniards attacked the
place, at a time when nearly all the men were absent
at the hunting. They killed all they found upon the
island, and stayed there some little time, hanging those
who surrendered to them after the first encounter.
Having massacred some 200 or 300 settlers, and destroyed
as many buildings as they could, the Spaniards
sailed away, thinking it unnecessary to leave a garrison
behind them. In this they acted foolishly, for their
atrocities stirred the interlopers to revenge themselves.
A band of them returned to Tortuga, to the ruins which
the Spaniards had left standing. Here they formed
themselves into a corporate body, with the intention to
attack the Spanish at the first opportunity. Here, too,
for the first time, they elected a commander. It was
at this crisis in their history that they began to be known
as buccaneers, or people who practise the boucan, the
native way of curing meat. It is now time to explain the
meaning of the word and to give some account of the
modes of life of the folk who brought it to our language.</p>

<p>The Carib Indians, and the kindred tribes on the
Brazilian coast, had a peculiar way of curing meat for
preservation. They used to build a wooden grille or
grating, raised upon poles some two or three feet high,
above their camp fires. This grating was called by the
Indians barbecue. The meat to be preserved, were it ox,
fish, wild boar, or human being, was then laid upon the
grille. The fire underneath the grille was kept low, and
fed with green sticks, and with the offal, hide, and bones
of the slaughtered animal. This process was called
boucanning, from an Indian word "boucan," which seems
to have signified "dried meat" and "camp-fire." Buccaneer,
in its original sense, meant one who practised the
boucan.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_113" id="Page_113">[113]</a></span></p>

<p>Meat thus cured kept good for several months. It was of
delicate flavour, "red as a rose," and of a tempting smell.
It could be eaten without further cookery. Sometimes
the meat was cut into pieces, and salted, before it was
boucanned&mdash;a practice which made it keep a little longer
than it would otherwise have done. Sometimes it was
merely cut in strips, roughly rubbed with brine, and hung
in the sun to dry into charqui, or jerked beef. The flesh
of the wild hog made the most toothsome boucanned
meat. It kept good a little longer than the beef, but it
needed more careful treatment, as stowage in a damp
lazaretto turned it bad at once. The hunters took especial
care to kill none but the choicest wild boars for sea-store.
Lean boars and sows were never killed. Many hunters, it
seems, confined themselves to hunting boars, leaving the
beeves as unworthy quarry.</p>

<p>When hunting, the buccaneers went on foot, in small
parties of four or five. The country in which they hunted
was densely wooded, so that they could not ride. Each
huntsman carried a gun of a peculiar make, with a barrel
four and a half feet long and a spade-shaped stock. The
long barrel made the gun carry very true. For ramrods
they carried three or four straight sticks of lance wood&mdash;a
wood almost as hard as iron, and much more easily replaced.
The balls used, weighed from one to two ounces
apiece. The powder was of the very best make known.
It was exported specially from Normandy&mdash;a country
which sent out many buccaneers, whose phrases still linger
in the Norman patois. For powder flask they used a
hollow gourd, which was first dried in the sun. When it
had dried to a fitting hardness it was covered with cuir-bouilli,
or boiled leather, which made it watertight. A
pointed stopper secured the mouth, and made a sort of
handle to the whole, by which it could be secured to the
strap which the hunter slung across his shoulders. Each<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_114" id="Page_114">[114]</a></span>
hunter carried a light tent, made of linen or thin canvas.
The tents rolled up into a narrow compass, like a bandolier,
so that they could be carried without trouble. The
woods were so thick that the leggings of the huntsmen
had to be of special strength. They were made of bull or
boar hide, the hair worn outwards.<a name="FNanchor_6_6" id="FNanchor_6_6"></a><a href="#Footnote_6_6" class="fnanchor">[6]</a> Moccasins, or shoes
for hunting, were made of dressed bull's hide. The clothes
worn at sea or while out hunting were "uniformly slovenly."
A big heavy hat, wide in the brim and running up into a
peak, protected the wearer from sunstroke. A dirty linen
shirt, which custom decreed should not be washed, was the
usual wear. It tucked into a dirty pair of linen drawers
or knickerbockers, which garments were always dyed
a dull red in the blood of the beasts killed. A sailor's
belt went round the waist, with a long machete or sheath-knife
secured to it at the back. Such was the attire of a
master hunter, buccaneer, or Brother of the Coast. Many
of them had valets or servants sent out to them from
France for a term of three years. These valets were
treated with abominable cruelty, and put to all manner of
bitter labour. A valet who had served his time was presented
with a gun and powder, two shirts and a hat&mdash;an
equipment which enabled him to enter business on his
own account. Every hunting party was arranged on the
system of share and share alike. The parties usually
made their plans at the Tortuga taverns. They agreed
with the sugar and tobacco planters to supply the plantations
with meat in exchange for tobacco. They then
loaded up their valets with hunters' necessaries, and sailed
for Hispaniola. Often they remained in the woods for a
year or two, sending their servants to the coast from time
to time with loads of meat and hides. They hunted, as a
rule, without dogs, though some sought out the whelps of
the wild mastiffs and trained them to hunt the boars.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115">[115]</a></span>
They stalked their quarry carefully, and shot it from
behind a tree. In the evenings they boucanned their kill,
pegged out the hides as tightly as they could, smoked a
pipe or two about the fire, and prepared a glorious meal
of marrow, "toute chaude"&mdash;their favourite dish. After
supper they pitched their little linen tents, smeared their
faces with grease to keep away the insects, put some wood
upon the fire, and retired to sleep, with little thought of
the beauty of the fireflies. They slept to leeward of
the fires, and as near to them as possible, so that the
smoke might blow over them, and keep off the mosquitoes.
They used to place wet tobacco leaf and the leaves of
certain plants among the embers in order that the smoke
might be more pungent.</p>

<div class="figcenter" style="width: 323px;">
<a name="img147" id="img147"></a>
<a href="https://brian.carnell.com/wiki/_media/etext:j:john-masefield-on-the-spanish-main-147.jpg"><img src="https://brian.carnell.com/wiki/_media/etext:j:john-masefield-on-the-spanish-main-147_th.jpg" width="323" height="400"
alt="A BUCCANEER&#39;S SLAVE, WITH HIS MASTER&#39;S GUN; A BARBECUE IN RIGHT LOWER CORNER"
title="A BUCCANEER&#39;S SLAVE, WITH HIS MASTER&#39;S GUN" /></a>
<span class="caption">A BUCCANEER'S SLAVE, WITH HIS MASTER'S GUN<br />
A BARBECUE IN RIGHT LOWER CORNER</span>
</div>

<p>When the hunt was over, the parties would return to the
coast to dispose of all they carried home, and to receive
all they had earned during their absence. It was a
lucrative business, and two years' hunting in the woods
brought to each hunter a considerable sum of money. As
soon as they touched their cash, they retired to Tortuga,
where they bought new guns, powder, bullets, small shot,
knives, and axes "against another going out or hunting."
When the new munitions had been paid for, the buccaneers
knew exactly how much money they could spend in self-indulgence.
Those who have seen a cowboy on a holiday,
or a sailor newly home from the seas, will understand the
nature of the "great liberality" these hunters practised on
such occasions. One who saw a good deal of their way
of life<a name="FNanchor_7_7" id="FNanchor_7_7"></a><a href="#Footnote_7_7" class="fnanchor">[7]</a> has written that their chief vice, or debauchery,
was that of drunkenness, "which they exercise for the
most part with brandy. This they drink as liberally as
the Spaniards do clear fountain water. Sometimes they
buy together a pipe of wine; this they stave at the one
end, and never cease drinking till they have made an end<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_116" id="Page_116">[116]</a></span>
of it. Thus they celebrate the festivals of Bacchus so long
as they have any money left." The island of Tortuga
must have witnessed some strange scenes. We may
picture a squalid little "cow town," with tropical vegetation
growing up to the doors. A few rough bungalow
houses, a few huts thatched with palm leaves, a few casks
standing in the shade of pent roofs. To seaward a few
ships of small tonnage lying at anchor. To landward hilly
ground, broken into strips of tillage, where some wretches
hoe tobacco under the lash. In the street, in the sunlight,
lie a few savage dogs. At one of the houses, a buccaneer
has just finished flogging his valet; he is now pouring
lemon juice, mixed with salt and pepper, into the raw, red
flesh. At another house, a gang of dirty men in dirty
scarlet drawers are drinking turn about out of a pan of
brandy. The reader may complete the sketch should he
find it sufficiently attractive.</p>

<p>When the buccaneers elected their first captain, they
had made but few determined forays against the Spaniards.
The greater number of them were French cattle hunters
dealing in boucanned meat, hides, and tallow. A few
hunted wild boars; a few more planted tobacco of great
excellence, with a little sugar, a little indigo, and a little
manioc. Among the company were a number of wild
Englishmen, of the stamp of Oxenham, who made Tortuga
their base and pleasure-house, using it as a port from
which to sally out to plunder Spanish ships. After a
cruise, these pirates sometimes went ashore for a month
or two of cattle hunting. Often enough, the French cattle
hunters took their places on the ships. The sailors and
huntsmen soon became amphibious, varying the life of the
woods with that of a sailor, and sometimes relaxing after
a cruise with a year's work in the tobacco fields. In 1638,
when the Spanish made their raid, there were considerable
numbers (certainly several hundreds) of men engaged in<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117">[117]</a></span>
these three occupations. After the raid they increased
in number rapidly; for after the raid they began to revenge
themselves by systematic raids upon the Spaniards&mdash;a
business which attracted hundreds of young men from
France and England. After the raid, too, the French and
English Governments began to treat the planters of the
St Kitts colony unjustly, so that many poor men were
forced to leave their plots of ground there. These men
left the colonies to join the buccaneers at Tortuga, who
soon became so numerous that they might have made an
independent state had they but agreed among themselves.
This they could not do, for the French had designs upon
Tortuga. A French garrison was landed on the island,
seemingly to protect the French planters from the English,
but in reality to seize the place for the French crown.
Another garrison encamped upon the coast of the larger
island. The English were now in a position like that of
the spar in the tale.<a name="FNanchor_8_8" id="FNanchor_8_8"></a><a href="#Footnote_8_8" class="fnanchor">[8]</a> They could no longer follow the
business of cattle hunting; they could no longer find an
anchorage and a ready market at Tortuga. They were
forced, therefore, to find some other rendezvous, where
they could refit after a cruise upon the Main. They withdrew
themselves more and more from the French buccaneers,
though the two parties frequently combined in
enterprises of danger and importance. They seem to have
relinquished Tortuga without fighting. They were less
attached to the place than the French. Their holdings
were fewer, and they had but a minor share in the cattle
hunting. But for many years to come they regarded the
French buccaneers with suspicion, as doubtful allies.
When they sailed away from Tortuga they sought out
other haunts on islands partly settled by the English.</p>

<p>In 1655, when an English fleet under Penn and Venables
came to the Indies to attack the Spaniards, a body of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118">[118]</a></span>
English buccaneers who had settled at Barbadoes came
in their ships to join the colours. In all, 5000 of them
mustered, but the service they performed was of poor
quality. The combined force attacked St Domingo, and
suffered a severe repulse. They then sailed for Jamaica,
which they took without much difficulty. The buccaneers
found Jamaica a place peculiarly suited to them: it
swarmed with wild cattle; it had a good harbour; it lay
conveniently for raids upon the Main. They began to
settle there, at Port Royal, with the troops left there by
Cromwell's orders. They planted tobacco and sugar,
followed the boucan, and lived as they had lived in the
past at Hispaniola. Whenever England was at war with
Spain the Governor of the island gave them commissions
to go privateering against the Spanish. A percentage of
the spoil was always paid to the Governor, while the constant
raiding on the Main prevented the Spaniards from
attacking the new colony in force. The buccaneers were
thus of great use to the Colonial Government. They
brought in money to the Treasury and kept the Spanish
troops engaged. The governors of the French islands
acted in precisely the same way. They gave the French
buccaneers every encouragement. When France was at
peace with Spain they sent to Portugal ("which country
was then at war with Spain") for Portuguese commissions,
with which the buccaneer captains could go cruising.
The English buccaneers often visited the French islands
in order to obtain similar commissions. When England
was at war with Spain the French came to Port Royal for
commissions from the English Governor. It was not a
very moral state of affairs; but the Colonial governors
argued that the buccaneers were useful, that they brought
in money, and that they could be disowned at any time
should Spain make peace with all the interloping countries.</p>

<p>The buccaneers now began "to make themselves re<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_119" id="Page_119">[119]</a></span>doubtable
to the Spaniards, and to spread riches and
abundance in our Colonies." They raided Nueva Segovia,
took a number of Spanish ships, and sacked Maracaibo
and western Gibraltar. Their captains on these raids were
Frenchmen and Portuguese. The spoils they took were
enormous, for they tortured every prisoner they captured
until he revealed to them where he had hidden his gold.
They treated the Spaniards with every conceivable barbarity,
nor were the Spaniards more merciful when the
chance offered.</p>

<p>The buccaneers, French and English, had a number of
peculiar customs or laws by which their strange society
was held together. They seem to have had some definite
religious beliefs, for we read of a French captain who shot
a buccaneer "in the church" for irreverence at Mass. No
buccaneer was allowed to hunt or to cure meat upon a
Sunday. No crew put to sea upon a cruise without first
going to church to ask a blessing on their enterprise. No
crew got drunk, on the return to port after a successful
trip, until thanks had been declared for the dew of heaven
they had gathered. After a cruise, the men were expected
to fling all their loot into a pile, from which the chiefs
made their selection and division. Each buccaneer was
called upon to hold up his right hand, and to swear that
he had not concealed any portion of the spoil. If, after
making oath, a man were found to have secreted anything,
he was bundled overboard, or marooned when the
ship next made the land. Each buccaneer had a mate
or comrade, with whom he shared all things, and to whom
his property devolved in the event of death.<a name="FNanchor_9_9" id="FNanchor_9_9"></a><a href="#Footnote_9_9" class="fnanchor">[9]</a> In many
cases the partnership lasted during life. A love for his
partner was usually the only tender sentiment a buccaneer
allowed himself.</p>

<p>When a number of buccaneers grew tired of plucking<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_120" id="Page_120">[120]</a></span>
weeds<a name="FNanchor_10_10" id="FNanchor_10_10"></a><a href="#Footnote_10_10" class="fnanchor">[10]</a> from the tobacco ground, and felt the allurement
of the sea, and longed to go a-cruising, they used to send
an Indian, or a negro slave, to their fellows up the coast,
inviting them to come to drink a dram with them. A
day was named for the rendezvous, and a store was
cleared, or a tobacco drying-house prepared, or perhaps
a tent of sails was pitched, for the place of meeting.
Early on the morning fixed for the council, a barrel of
brandy was rolled up for the refreshment of the guests,
while the black slaves put some sweet potatoes in a
net to boil for the gentlemen's breakfasts. Presently
a canoa or periagua would come round the headland
from the sea, under a single sail&mdash;the topgallant-sail of
some sunk Spanish ship. In her would be some ten
or a dozen men, of all countries, anxious for a cruise
upon the Main. Some would be Englishmen from the
tobacco fields on Sixteen-Mile Walk. One or two of
them were broken Royalists, of gentle birth, with a
memory in their hearts of English country houses.
Others were Irishmen from Montserrat, the wretched
Kernes deported after the storm of Tredah. Some were
French hunters from the Hispaniola woods, with the
tan upon their cheeks, and a habit of silence due to
many lonely marches on the trail. The new-comers
brought their arms with them: muskets with long single
barrels, heavy pistols, machetes, or sword-like knives, and
a cask or two of powder and ball. During the morning
other parties drifted in. Hunters, and planters, and old,
grizzled seamen came swaggering down the trackways
to the place of meeting. Most of them were dressed
in the dirty shirts and blood-stained drawers of the
profession, but some there were who wore a scarlet
cloak or a purple serape which had been stitched for a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_121" id="Page_121">[121]</a></span>
Spaniard on the Main. Among the party were generally
some Indians from Campeachy&mdash;tall fellows of a
blackish copper colour, with javelins in their hands for
the spearing of fish. All of this company would gather
in the council chamber, where a rich planter sat at a
table with some paper scrolls in front of him.</p>

<p>As soon as sufficient men had come to muster, the
planter<a name="FNanchor_11_11" id="FNanchor_11_11"></a><a href="#Footnote_11_11" class="fnanchor">[11]</a> would begin proceedings by offering a certain
sum of money towards the equipment of a roving
squadron. The assembled buccaneers then asked him
to what port he purposed cruising. He would suggest
one or two, giving his reasons, perhaps bringing in an
Indian with news of a gold mine on the Main, or of a
treasure-house that might be sacked, or of a plate ship
about to sail eastward. Among these suggestions one
at least was certain to be plausible. Another buccaneer
would then offer to lend a good canoa, with, perhaps, a
cask or two of meat as sea-provision. Others would
offer powder and ball, money to purchase brandy for
the voyage, or roll tobacco for the solace of the men.
Those who could offer nothing, but were eager to contribute
and to bear a hand, would pledge themselves
to pay a share of the expenses out of the profits of the
cruise. When the president had written down the list
of contributions he called upon the company to elect
a captain. This was seldom a difficult matter, for some
experienced sailor&mdash;a good fellow, brave as a lion, and
fortunate in love and war&mdash;was sure to be among them.
Having chosen the captain, the company elected sailing
masters, gunners, chirurgeons (if they had them), and
the other officers necessary to the economy of ships of
war. They then discussed the "lays" or shares to be
allotted to each man out of the general booty.</p>

<p>Those who lent the ships and bore the cost of the pro<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_122" id="Page_122">[122]</a></span>visioning,
were generally allotted one-third of all the
plunder taken. The captain received three shares, sometimes
six or seven shares, according to his fortune. The
minor officers received two shares apiece. The men or
common adventurers received each one share. No
plunder was allotted until an allowance had been made
for those who were wounded on the cruise. Compensation
varied from time to time, but the scale most generally
used was as follows<a name="FNanchor_12_12" id="FNanchor_12_12"></a><a href="#Footnote_12_12" class="fnanchor">[12]</a>:&mdash;"For the loss of a right
arm six hundred pieces of eight, or six slaves; for the
loss of a left arm five hundred pieces of eight, or five
slaves; for a right leg five hundred pieces of eight, or
five slaves; for a left leg four hundred pieces of eight,
or four slaves; for an eye one hundred pieces of eight,
or one slave; for a finger of the hand the same reward
as for the eye."</p>

<p>In addition to this compensation, a wounded man received
a crown a day (say three shillings) for two months
after the division of the spoil. If the booty were too little
to allow of the declaration of a dividend, the wounded were
put ashore at the port of rendezvous, and the adventurers
kept the seas until they had enough to bring them home.</p>

<p>In the years of buccaneer prosperity, when Port Royal
was full of ruffians eager to go cruising, the proceedings
may often have been less regular. A voyage was sometimes
arranged in the taverns, where the gangs drank
punch, or rumbo, a draught of rum and water (taken half-and-half,
and sweetened with crude sugar) so long as
their money lasted. If a gang had a ship, or the offer
of a ship, and had but little silver left them from their last
cruise, they would go aboard with their muskets, shot,
and powder casks, trusting to fortune to obtain stores.
Nearly every ship's company had a Mosquito Indian,
or more than one, to act as guide ashore, in places where<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_123" id="Page_123">[123]</a></span>
a native's woodcraft was essential to a white man's safety.
At sea these Indians supplied the mariners with fish, for
they were singularly skilful with the fish spear. When
a gang of buccaneers put to sea without provisions, they
generally steered to the feeding grounds of the sea-turtles,
or to some place where the sea-cows, or manatees, were
found.<a name="FNanchor_13_13" id="FNanchor_13_13"></a><a href="#Footnote_13_13" class="fnanchor">[13]</a> Here the Indians were sent out in small canoas,
with their spears and tortoise irons. The spears were
not unlike our modern harpoons. The tortoise irons
were short, heavy arrow heads, which penetrated the
turtle's shell when rightly thrown. The heads were attached
to a stick, and to a cord which they made of a
fibrous bark. When the blow had gone home, the stick
came adrift, leaving the iron in the wound, with the cord
still fast to it. When the turtles had been hauled aboard,
their flesh was salted with the brine taken from the
natural salt-pans to be found among the islands. When
a manatee was killed, the hide was stripped away, and
hung to dry. It was then cut into thongs, and put to
various uses. The buccaneers made grummets, or rings,
of it, for use in their row boats instead of tholes or
rowlocks. The meat of manatee, though extremely delicate,
did not take salt so readily as that of turtles. Turtle
was the stand-by of the hungry buccaneer when far from
the Main or the Jamaican barbecues. In addition to the
turtle they had a dish of fish whenever the Indians were
so fortunate as to find a shoal, or when the private fishing
lines, of which each sailor carried several, were successful.
Two Mosquito Indians, it was said, could keep 100
men in fish with no other weapons than their spears and
irons. In coasting along the Main, a buccaneer captain
could always obtain sufficient food for his immediate need,
for hardly any part of the coast was destitute of land-crabs,
oysters, fruit, deer, peccary, or warree. But for<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_124" id="Page_124">[124]</a></span>
a continued cruise with a large crew this hand-to-mouth
supply was insufficient.</p>

<p>The buccaneers sometimes began a cruise by sailing to
an estancia in Hispaniola, or on the Main, where they
might supply their harness casks with flesh. They used
to attack these estancias, or "hog-yards," at night. They
began by capturing the swine or cattle-herds, and threatening
them with death should they refuse to give them the
meat they needed. Having chosen as many beeves or
swine as seemed sufficient for their purpose, they kicked
the herds for their pains, and put the meat in pickle.<a name="FNanchor_14_14" id="FNanchor_14_14"></a><a href="#Footnote_14_14" class="fnanchor">[14]</a>
They then visited some other Spanish house for a supply
of rum or brandy, or a few hat-loads of sugar in the crude.
Tobacco they stole from the drying-rooms of planters
they disliked. Lemons, limes, and other anti-scorbutics
they plucked from the trees, when fortune sent them to
the coast. Flour they generally captured from the
Spanish. They seldom were without a supply, for it
is often mentioned as a marching ration&mdash;"a doughboy,
or dumpling," boiled with fat, in a sort of heavy cake,
a very portable and filling kind of victual. At sea their
staple food was flesh&mdash;either boucanned meat or salted
turtle. Their allowance, "twice a day to every one," was
"as much as he can eat, without either weight or measure."
Water and strong liquors were allowed (while they lasted)
in the same liberal spirit. This reckless generosity was
recklessly abused. Meat and drink, so easily provided,
were always improvidently spent. Probably few buccaneer
ships returned from a cruise with the hands on
full allowance. The rule was "drunk and full, or dry
and empty, to hell with bloody misers"&mdash;the proverb
of the American merchant sailor of to-day. They knew
no mean in anything. That which came easily might
go lightly: there was more where that came from.</p>
<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_125" id="Page_125">[125]</a></span></p>
<p>When the ship had been thus victualled the gang
went aboard her to discuss where they should go "to
seek their desperate fortunes." The preliminary agreement
was put in writing, much as in the former case,
allotting each man his due share of the expected spoil.
We read that the carpenter who "careened, mended, and
rigged the vessel" was generally allotted a fee of from
twenty-five to forty pounds for his pains&mdash;a sum drawn
from the common stock or "purchase" subsequently taken
by the adventurers. For the surgeon "and his chest of
medicaments" they provided a "competent salary" of
from fifty to sixty pounds. Boys received half-a-share,
"by reason that, when they take a better vessel than their
own, it is the duty of the boys to set fire to the ship or
boat wherein they are, and then retire to the prize which
they have taken." All shares were allotted on the good
old rule: "No prey, No pay," so that all had a keen incentive
to bestir themselves. They were also "very civil
and charitable to each other," observing "among themselves,
very good orders." They sailed together like a
company of brothers, or rather, since that were an imperfect
simile, like a company of jolly comrades. Locks
and keys were forbidden among them, as they are forbidden
in ship's fo'c's'les to this day; for every man was
expected to show that he put trust in his mates. A man
caught thieving from his fellow was whipped about the
ship by all hands with little whips of ropeyarn or of
fibrous maho bark. His back was then pickled with
some salt, after which he was discharged the company.
If a man were in want of clothes, he had but to ask a
shipmate to obtain all he required. They were not very
curious in the rigging or cleansing of their ships; nor did
they keep watch with any regularity. They set their
Mosquito Indians in the tops to keep a good lookout;
for the Indians were long-sighted folk, who could descry<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_126" id="Page_126">[126]</a></span>
a ship at sea at a greater distance than a white man.
They slept, as a rule, on "mats" upon the deck, in the
open air. Few of them used hammocks, nor did they
greatly care if the rain drenched them as they lay
asleep.</p>

<p>After the raids of Morgan, the buccaneers seem to
have been more humane to the Spaniards whom they
captured. They treated them as Drake treated them,
with all courtesy. They discovered that the cutting out
of prisoners' hearts, and eating of them raw without
salt, as had been the custom of one of the most famous
buccaneers, was far less profitable than the priming of
a prisoner with his own aqua-vit&aelig;. The later buccaneers,
such as Dampier, were singularly zealous in the collection
of information of "the Towns within 20 leagues of the sea,
on all the coast from Trinidado down to La Vera Cruz; and
are able to give a near guess of the strength and riches
of them." For, as Dampier says, "they make it their
business to examine all Prisoners that fall into their
hands, concerning the Country, Town, or City that they
belong to; whether born there, or how long they have
known it? how many families? whether most Spaniards?
or whether the major part are not Copper-colour'd,
as Mulattoes [people half white, half black], Mustesoes
[mestizos, or people half white, half Indian. These are
not the same as mustees, or octoroons], or Indians? whether
rich, and what their riches do consist in? and what their
chiefest manufactures? If fortified, how many Great
Guns, and what number of small Arms? whether it is
possible to come undescried on them? How many Look-outs
or Centinels? for such the Spaniards always keep;
and how the Look-outs are placed? Whether possible to
avoid the Look-outs or take them? If any River or
Creek comes near it, or where the best Landing? or
numerous other such questions, which their curiosities<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_127" id="Page_127">[127]</a></span>
lead them to demand. And if they have had any former
discourse of such places from other Prisoners, they compare
one with the other; then examine again, and enquire
if he or any of them, are capable to be guides to conduct
a party of men thither: if not, where and how any
Prisoner may be taken that may do it, and from thence
they afterwards lay their Schemes to prosecute whatever
design they take in hand."</p>

<p>If, after such a careful questioning as that just mentioned,
the rovers decided to attack a city on the Main at some
little distance from the sea, they would debate among
themselves the possibility of reaching the place by river.
Nearly all the wealthy Spanish towns were on a river,
if not on the sea; and though the rivers were unwholesome,
and often rapid, it was easier to ascend them in boats
than to march upon their banks through jungle. If on
inquiry it were found that the suggested town stood on
a navigable river, the privateers would proceed to some
island, such as St Andreas, where they could cut down
cedar-trees to make them boats. St Andreas, like many
West Indian islands, was of a stony, sandy soil, very
favourable to the growth of cedar-trees. Having arrived
at such an island, the men went ashore to cut timber.
They were generally good lumbermen, for many buccaneers
would go to cut logwood in Campeachy when trade was
slack. As soon as a cedar had been felled, the limbs were
lopped away, and the outside rudely fashioned to the
likeness of a boat. If they were making a periagua, they
left the stern "flat"&mdash;that is, cut off sharply without
modelling; if they were making a canoa, they pointed
both ends, as a Red Indian points his birch-bark. The
bottom of the boat in either case was made flat, for
convenience in hauling over shoals or up rapids. The
inside of the boat was hollowed out by fire, with the help
of the Indians, who were very expert at the management<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_128" id="Page_128">[128]</a></span>
of the flame. For oars they had paddles made of ash
or cedar plank, spliced to the tough and straight-growing
lance wood, or to the less tough, but equally straight, white
mangrove. Thwarts they made of cedar plank. Tholes
or grummets for the oars they twisted out of manatee
hide. Having equipped their canoas or periaguas they
secured them to the stern of their ship, and set sail
towards their quarry.</p>

<div class="blockquot"><p><i>Authorities.</i>&mdash;Captain James Burney: "Voyages and Discoveries in the
South Sea"; "History of the Buccaneers." P&egrave;re Charlevoix: "Histoire de
l'Isle Espagnole"; "Histoire et description de la N. France." B. Edwards:
"Historical Survey of the Island of San Domingo." Gage: "Histoire de
l'Empire Mexicain"; "The English American." S. Hazard: "Santo
Domingo, Past and Present." Justin: "Histoire Politique de l'Isle de
Ha&iuml;ti." Cal. State Papers: "America and West Indies." Abb&eacute; Raynal:
"History of the Settlements and Trades of the Europeans in the East and
West Indies." A. O. Exquemeling: "History of the Buccaneers." A.
de Herrera: "Description des Indes Occidentales (d'Espagnol)." J. de
Acosta: "History of the Indies."
<ins class="correction" title="Transcriber's Note: original reads 'Cieca'">Cie&ccedil;a</ins>
de Leon: "Travels."</p></div>



<hr class="chapter" />
<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_129" id="Page_129">[129]</a></span></p>
<h2><a name="CHAPTER_IX" id="CHAPTER_IX"></a>CHAPTER IX</h2>

<h3>BUCCANEER CUSTOMS</h3>

<div class="blockquot"><p>Mansvelt and Morgan&mdash;Morgan's raid on Cuba&mdash;Puerto del
Principe</p></div>


<p>Throughout the years of buccaneering, the buccaneers
often put to sea in canoas and periaguas,<a name="FNanchor_15_15" id="FNanchor_15_15"></a><a href="#Footnote_15_15" class="fnanchor">[15]</a>
just as Drake put to sea in his three pinnaces. Life
in an open boat is far from pleasant, but men who
passed their leisure cutting logwood at Campeachy, or
hoeing tobacco in Jamaica, or toiling over gramma grass
under a hot sun after cattle, were not disposed to make
the worst of things. They would sit contentedly upon
the oar bench, rowing with a long, slow stroke for hours
together without showing signs of fatigue. Nearly all
of them were men of more than ordinary strength, and
all of them were well accustomed to the climate. When
they had rowed their canoa to the Main they were able
to take it easy till a ship came by from one of the Spanish
ports. If she seemed a reasonable prey, without too
many guns, and not too high charged, or high built, the
privateers would load their muskets, and row down to
engage her. The best shots were sent into the bows,
and excused from rowing, lest the exercise should cause
their hands to tremble. A clever man was put to the
steering oar, and the musketeers were bidden to sing out
whenever the enemy yawed, so as to fire her guns. It
was in action, and in action only, that the captain had
command over his men. The steersman endeavoured<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_130" id="Page_130">[130]</a></span>
to keep the masts of the quarry in a line, and to approach
her from astern. The marksmen from the bows kept up
a continual fire at the vessel's helmsmen, if they could
be seen, and at any gun-ports which happened to be
open. If the helmsmen could not be seen from the sea,
the canoas aimed to row in upon the vessel's quarters,
where they could wedge up the rudder with wooden
chocks or wedges. They then laid her aboard over the
quarter, or by the after chains, and carried her with their
knives and pistols. The first man to get aboard received
some gift of money at the division of the spoil.</p>

<p>When the prize was taken, the prisoners were questioned,
and despoiled. Often, indeed, they were stripped stark
naked, and granted the privilege of seeing their finery on
a pirate's back. Each buccaneer had the right to take
a shift of clothes out of each prize captured. The cargo
was then rummaged, and the state of the ship looked to,
with an eye to using her as a cruiser. As a rule, the
prisoners were put ashore on the first opportunity, but
some buccaneers had a way of selling their captives
into slavery. If the ship were old, leaky, valueless, in
ballast, or with a cargo useless to the rovers, she was
either robbed of her guns, and turned adrift with her crew,
or run ashore in some snug cove, where she could be burnt
for the sake of the iron-work. If the cargo were of value,
and, as a rule, the ships they took had some rich thing
aboard them, they sailed her to one of the Dutch, French,
or English settlements, where they sold her freight for
what they could get&mdash;some tenth or twentieth of its value.
If the ship were a good one, in good condition, well found,
swift, and not of too great draught (for they preferred to
sail in small ships), they took her for their cruiser as soon
as they had emptied out her freight. They sponged and
loaded her guns, brought their stores aboard her, laid their
mats upon her deck, secured the boats astern, and sailed<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_131" id="Page_131">[131]</a></span>
away in search of other plunder. They kept little discipline
aboard their ships. What work had to be done
they did, but works of supererogation they despised and
rejected as a shade unholy. The night watches were
partly orgies. While some slept, the others fired guns
and drank to the health of their fellows. By the light of
the binnacle, or by the light of the slush lamps in the
cabin, the rovers played a hand at cards, or diced each
other at "seven and eleven," using a pannikin as dice-box.
While the gamblers cut and shuffled, and the dice rattled
in the tin, the musical sang songs, the fiddlers set their
music chuckling, and the sea-boots stamped approval.
The cunning dancers showed their science in the moonlight,
avoiding the sleepers if they could. In this jolly
fashion were the nights made short. In the daytime, the
gambling continued with little intermission; nor had the
captain any authority to stop it. One captain, in the
histories, was so bold as to throw the dice and cards
overboard, but, as a rule, the captain of a buccaneer cruiser
was chosen as an artist, or navigator, or as a lucky fighter.
He was not expected to spoil sport. The continual
gambling nearly always led to fights and quarrels. The
lucky dicers often won so much that the unlucky had to
part with all their booty. Sometimes a few men would
win all the plunder of the cruise, much to the disgust of
the majority, who clamoured for a redivision of the spoil.
If two buccaneers got into a quarrel they fought it out
on shore at the first opportunity, using knives, swords, or
pistols, according to taste. The usual way of fighting
was with pistols, the combatants standing back to back,
at a distance of ten or twelve paces, and turning round to
fire at the word of command. If both shots missed, the
question was decided with cutlasses, the man who drew
first blood being declared the winner. If a man were
proved to be a coward he was either tied to the mast, and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_132" id="Page_132">[132]</a></span>
shot, or mutilated, and sent ashore. No cruise came to an
end until the company declared themselves satisfied with
the amount of plunder taken. The question, like all
other important questions, was debated round the mast,
and decided by vote.</p>

<p>At the conclusion of a successful cruise, they sailed
for Port Royal, with the ship full of treasure, such as
vicuna wool, packets of pearls from the Hatch, jars of
civet or of ambergris, boxes of "marmalett" and spices,
casks of strong drink, bales of silk, sacks of chocolate and
vanilla, and rolls of green cloth and pale blue cotton
which the Indians had woven in Peru, in some sandy village
near the sea, in sight of the pelicans and the penguins.
In addition to all these things, they usually had a number
of the personal possessions of those they had taken on
the seas. Lying in the chests for subsequent division
were swords, silver-mounted pistols, daggers chased and
inlaid, watches from Spain, necklaces of uncut jewels,
rings and bangles, heavy carved furniture, "cases of
bottles" of delicately cut green glass, containing cordials
distilled of precious mints, with packets of emeralds from
Brazil, bezoar stones from Patagonia, paintings from
Spain, and medicinal gums from Nicaragua. All these
things were divided by lot at the main-mast as soon as
the anchor held. As the ship, or ships, neared port, her
men hung colours out&mdash;any colours they could find&mdash;to
make their vessel gay. A cup of drink was taken as they
sailed slowly home to moorings, and as they drank they
fired off the cannon, "bullets and all," again and yet
again, rejoicing as the bullets struck the water. Up in
the bay, the ships in the harbour answered with salutes
of cannon; flags were dipped and hoisted in salute;
and so the anchor dropped in some safe reach, and the
division of the spoil began.</p>

<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;">
<a name="img167" id="img167"></a>
<a href="https://brian.carnell.com/wiki/_media/etext:j:john-masefield-on-the-spanish-main-167.jpg"><img src="https://brian.carnell.com/wiki/_media/etext:j:john-masefield-on-the-spanish-main-167_th.jpg" width="400" height="281"
alt="OLD PORT ROYAL" title="OLD PORT ROYAL" /></a>
<span class="caption">OLD PORT ROYAL</span>
</div>

<p>After the division of the spoil in the beautiful Port<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_133" id="Page_133">[133]</a></span>
Royal harbour, in sight of the palm-trees and the fort
with the colours flying, the buccaneers packed their gear,
and dropped over the side into a boat. They were pulled
ashore by some grinning black man with a scarlet scarf
about his head and the brand of a hot iron on his shoulders.
At the jetty end, where the Indians lounged at their
tobacco and the fishermen's canoas rocked, the sunburnt
pirates put ashore. Among the noisy company which
always gathers on a pier they met with their companions.
A sort of Roman triumph followed, as the "happily
returned" lounged swaggeringly towards the taverns.
Eager hands helped them to carry in their plunder. In
a few minutes the gang was entering the tavern, the
long, cool room with barrels round the walls, where there
were benches and a table and an old blind fiddler jerking
his elbow at a jig. Noisily the party ranged about the
table, and sat themselves upon the benches, while the
drawers, or potboys, in their shirts, drew near to take the
orders. I wonder if the reader has ever heard a sailor
in the like circumstance, five minutes after he has touched
his pay, address a company of parasites in an inn with
the question: "What's it going to be?"</p>

<p>After the settlement of Jamaica by the English, the
buccaneers became more enterprising. One buccaneer
captain, the most remarkable of all of them, a man named
Mansvelt, probably a Dutchman from Cura&ccedil;oa, attempted
to found a pirate settlement upon the island of Santa
Katalina, or Old Providence. Mansvelt was a fortunate
sea-captain, with considerable charm of manner. He was
popular with the buccaneers, and had a name among
them, for he was the first of them to cross the isthmus
and to sail the South Sea. His South-Sea cruise had
come to little, for provisions ran short, and his company
had been too small to attempt a Spanish town. He
had, therefore, retreated to the North Sea to his ships,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_134" id="Page_134">[134]</a></span>
and had then gone cruising northward along the Nicaragua
coast as far as the Blewfields River. From this point
he stood away to the island of Santa Katalina, or Old
Providence&mdash;an island about six miles long, with an excellent
harbour, which, he thought, might easily be fortified.
A smaller island lies directly to the north of it,
separated from it by a narrow channel of the sea. Twenty
years before his visit it had been the haunt of an old
captain of the name of Blewfields, who had made it
his base while his men went logwood cutting on the
mainland. Blewfields was now dead, either of rum or
war, and the Spaniards had settled there, and had built
themselves a fort or castle to command the harbour.
Having examined the place, Mansvelt sailed away to
Jamaica to equip a fleet to take it. He saw that the
golden times which the buccaneers were then enjoying
could not last for ever, and that their occupation might
be wrecked by a single ill-considered treaty, dated from
St James's or the Court of France. He thought that the
islands should be seized as a general rendezvous for folk
of that way of life. With a little trouble the harbour
could be made impregnable. The land was good, and
suited for the growing of maize or tobacco&mdash;the two products
most in demand among them. The islands were
near the Main, being only thirty-five leagues from the
Chagres River, the stream from which the golden harvest
floated from the cities of the south. They were close
to the coast of Nicaragua, where the logwood grew in
clumps, waiting for the axes of the lumbermen. With
the islands in their hands, the buccaneers could drive
the Spaniards off the isthmus&mdash;or so Mansvelt thought.
It would at
<ins class="correction" title="Transcriber's Note: so in original">anyrate</ins>
have been an easy matter for them
to have wrecked the trade routes from Panama to Porto
Bello, and from Porto Bello to Vera Cruz.</p>

<p>While Mansvelt lay at Port Royal, scraping and tallow<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_135" id="Page_135">[135]</a></span>ing
his ships, getting beef salted and boucanned, and
drumming up his men from the taverns, a Welshman,
of the name of Henry Morgan, came sailing up to moorings
with half-a-dozen captured merchantmen. But a
few weeks before, he had come home from a cruise with
a little money in his pockets. He had clubbed together
with some shipmates, and had purchased a small ship
with the common fund. She was but meanly equipped,
yet her first cruise to the westward, on the coast of Campeachy,
was singularly lucky. Mansvelt at once saw
his opportunity to win recruits. A captain so fortunate
as Morgan would be sure to attract followers, for the
buccaneers asked that their captains should be valorous
and lucky. For other qualities, such as prudence and
forethought, they did not particularly care. Mansvelt
at once went aboard Morgan's ship to drink a cup of
sack with him in the cabin. He asked him to act as
vice-admiral to the fleet he was then equipping for
Santa Katalina. To this Henry Morgan very readily
consented, for he judged that a great company would
be able to achieve great things. In a few days, the two
set sail together from Port Royal, with a fleet of fifteen
ships, manned by 500 buccaneers, many of whom were
French and Dutch.</p>

<p>As soon as they arrived at Santa Katalina, they anchored,
and sent their men ashore with some heavy guns. The
Spanish garrison was strong, and the fortress well situated,
but in a few days they forced it to surrender. They then
crossed by a bridge of boats to the lesser island to the
north, where they ravaged the plantations for fresh
supplies. Having blown up all the fortifications save
the castle, they sent the Spanish prisoners aboard the
ships. They then chose out 100 trusty men to keep
the island for them. They left these on the island, under
the command of a Frenchman of the name of Le<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_136" id="Page_136">[136]</a></span>
Sieur Simon. They also left the Spanish slaves behind,
to work the plantations, and to grow maize and sweet
potatoes for the future victualling of the fleet. Mansvelt
then sailed away towards Porto Bello, near which city
he put his prisoners ashore. He cruised to the eastward
for some weeks, snapping up provision ships and little
trading vessels; but he learned that the Governor of
Panama, a determined and very gallant soldier, was fitting
out an army to encounter him, should he attempt to land.
The news may have been false, but it showed the buccaneers
that they were known to be upon the coast, and
that their raid up "the river of Colla" to "rob and pillage"
the little town of Nata, on the Bay of Panama, would be
fruitless. The Spanish residents of little towns like Nata
buried all their gold and silver, and then fled into the
woods when rumours of the pirates came to them. To
attack such a town some weeks after the townsfolk had
received warning of their intentions would have been
worse than useless.</p>

<p>Mansvelt, therefore, returned to Santa Katalina to see
how the colony had prospered while he had been at sea. He
found that Le Sieur Simon had put the harbour "in a very
good posture of defence," having built a couple of batteries
to command the anchorage. In these he had mounted his
cannon upon platforms of plank, with due munitions of
cannon-balls and powder. On the little island to the
north he had laid out plantations of maize, sweet potatoes,
plantains, and tobacco. The first-fruits of these green
fields were now ripe, and "sufficient to revictual the whole
fleet with provisions and fruits."</p>

<p>Mansvelt was so well satisfied with the prospects of the
colony that he determined to hurry back to Jamaica to
beg recruits and recognition from the English Governor.
The islands had belonged to English subjects in the past,
and of right belonged to England still. However, the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_137" id="Page_137">[137]</a></span>
Jamaican Governor disliked the scheme. He feared that
by lending his support he would incur the wrath of the
English Government, while he could not weaken his
position in Jamaica by sending soldiers from his garrison.
Mansvelt, "seeing the unwillingness" of this un-English
Governor, at once made sail for Tortuga, where he hoped
the French might be less squeamish. He dropped anchor,
in the channel between Tortuga and Hispaniola early in
the summer of 1665. He seems to have gone ashore to
see the French authorities. Perhaps he drank too strong
a punch of rum and sugar&mdash;a drink very prejudicial in
such a climate to one not used to it. Perhaps he took the
yellow fever, or the coast cramp; the fact cannot now be
known. At any rate he sickened, and died there, "before
he could accomplish his desires"&mdash;"all things hereby remaining
in suspense." One account, based on the hearsay
of a sea-captain, says that Mansvelt was taken by the
Spaniards, and brought to Porto Bello, and there put to
death by the troops.</p>

<p>Le Sieur Simon remained at his post, hoeing his tobacco
plants, and sending detachments to the Main to kill manatee,
or to cut logwood. He looked out anxiously for Mansvelt's
ships, for he had not men enough to stand a siege, and
greatly feared that the Spaniards would attack him. While
he stayed in this perplexity, wondering why he did not
hear from Mansvelt, he received a letter from Don John
Perez de Guzman, the Spanish captain-general, who bade
him "surrender the island to his Catholic Majesty," on
pain of severe punishment. To this Le Sieur Simon made
no answer, for he hoped that Mansvelt's fleet would soon
be in those waters to deliver him from danger. Don John,
who was a very energetic captain-general, determined to
retake the place. He left his residence at Panama, and
crossed the isthmus to Porto Bello, where he found a ship,
called the <i>St Vincent</i>, "that belonged to the Company of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_138" id="Page_138">[138]</a></span>
the Negroes" (the Isthmian company of slavers), lying at
anchor, waiting for a freight. We are told that she was a
good ship, "well mounted with guns." He provisioned her
for the sea, and manned her with about 400 men, mostly
soldiers from the Porto Bello forts. Among the company
were seven master gunners and "twelve Indians very
dexterous at shooting with bows and arrows." The city
of Cartagena furnished other ships and men, bringing
the squadron to a total of four vessels and 500 men-at-arms.
With this force the Spanish commander arrived
off Santa Katalina, coming to anchor in the port there
on the evening of a windy day, the 10th of August 1665.
As they dropped anchor they displayed their colours.
As soon as the yellow silk blew clear, Le Sieur Simon
discharged "three guns with bullets" at the ships, "the
which were soon answered in the same coin." The
Spaniard then sent a boat ashore to summon the garrison,
threatening death to all if the summons were refused. To
this Le Sieur Simon replied that the island was a possession
of the English Crown, "and that, instead of surrendering
it, they preferred to lose their lives." As more
than a fourth of the little garrison was at that time
hunting on the Main, or at sea, the answer was heroic.
Three days later, some negroes swam off to the ships to
tell the Spaniards of the garrison's weakness. After
two more days of council, the boats were lowered
from the ships, and manned with soldiers. The guns on
the gun-decks were loaded, and trained. The drums beat
to quarters both on the ships and in the batteries. Under
the cover of the warship's guns, the boats shoved off
towards the landing-place, receiving a furious fire from
the buccaneers. The "weather was very calm and clear,"
so that the smoke from the guns did not blow away fast
enough to allow the buccaneers to aim at the boats. The
landing force formed into three parties, two of which<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_139" id="Page_139">[139]</a></span>
attacked the flanks, and the third the centre. The battle
was very furious, though the buccaneers were outnumbered
and had no chance of victory. They ran short
of cannon-balls before they surrendered, but they made
shift for a time with small shot and scraps of iron, "also
the organs of the church," of which they fired "threescore
pipes" at a shot. The fighting lasted most of the day,
for it was not to the advantage of the Spaniards to come
to push of pike. Towards sunset the buccaneers were
beaten from their guns. They fought in the open for a
few minutes, round "the gate called Costadura," but the
Spaniards surrounded them, and they were forced to lay
down their arms. The Spanish colours were set up, and
two poor Spaniards who had joined the buccaneers were
shot to death upon the Plaza. The English prisoners
were sent aboard the ships, and carried into Porto Bello,
where they were put to the building of a fortress&mdash;the
Iron Castle, a place of great strength, which later on the
English blew to pieces. Some of the men were sent to
Panama "to work in the castle of St Jerome"&mdash;a wonderful,
great castle, which was burned at the sack of Panama
almost before the mortar dried.</p>

<p>While the guns were roaring over Santa Katalina, as Le
Sieur Simon rammed his cannon full of organ pipes, Henry
Morgan was in lodgings at Port Royal, greatly troubled
at the news of Mansvelt's death. He was busily engaged
at the time with letters to the merchants of New England.
He was endeavouring to get their help towards the fortification
of the island he had helped to capture. "His
principal intent," writes one who did not love the man,
"was to consecrate it as a refuge and sanctuary to the
Pirates of those parts," making it "a convenient receptacle
or store house of their preys and robberies." It is pleasant
to speculate as to the reasons he urged to the devout New
England Puritans. He must have chuckled to himself, and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_140" id="Page_140">[140]</a></span>
shared many a laugh with his clerk, to think that perhaps
a Levite, or a Man of God, a deacon, or an elder, would
untie the purse-strings of the sealed if he did but agonise
about the Spanish Inquisition with sufficient earthquake
and eclipse. He heard of the loss of the island before the
answers came to him, and the news, of course, "put him
upon new designs," though he did not abandon the scheme
in its entirety. He had his little fleet at anchor in the
harbour, gradually fitting for the sea, and his own ship
was ready. Having received his commission from the
Governor, he gave his captains orders to meet him on the
Cuban coast, at one of the many inlets affording safe
anchorage. Here, after several weeks of cruising, he was
joined by "a fleet of twelve sail," some of them of several
hundred tons. These were manned by 700 fighting men,
part French, part English.</p>

<p>At the council of war aboard the admiral's ship, it was
suggested that so large a company should venture on
Havana, which city, they thought, might easily be taken,
"especially if they could but take a few of the ecclesiastics."
Some of the pirates had been prisoners in the
Havana, and knew that a town of 30,000 inhabitants
would hardly yield to 700 men, however desperate.
"Nothing of consequence could be done there," they
pronounced, even with ecclesiastics, "unless with fifteen
hundred men." One of the pirates then suggested
the town of Puerto del Principe, an inland town surrounded
by tobacco fields, at some distance from the
sea. It did a thriving trade with the Havana; and he
who suggested that it should be sacked, affirmed upon his
honour, like Boult over Maria, that it never yet "was
sacked by any Pirates." Towards this virginal rich town
the buccaneers proceeded, keeping close along the coast
until they made the anchorage of Santa Maria. Here they
dropped anchor for the night.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_141" id="Page_141">[141]</a></span></p>

<p>When the men were making merry over the punch, as
they cleaned their arms, and packed their satchels, a
Spanish prisoner "who had overheard their discourse,
while they thought he did not understand the English
tongue," slipped through a port-hole to the sea, and swam
ashore. By some miracle he escaped the ground sharks,
and contrived to get to Puerto del Principe some hours
before the pirates left their ships. The Governor of the
town, to whom he told his story, at once raised all his
forces, "both freemen and slaves," to prejudice the enemy
when he attacked. The forest ways were blocked with
timber baulks, and several ambuscades were laid, with
cannon in them, "to play upon them on their march."
In all, he raised and armed 800 men, whom he disposed
in order, either in the jungle at the ambuscades or
in a wide expanse of grass which surrounded the town.</p>

<p>In due course Morgan sent his men ashore, and marched
them through the wood towards the town. They found
the woodland trackways blocked by the timber baulks, so
they made a detour, hacking paths for themselves with
their machetes, until they got clear of the wood. When
they got out of the jungle they found themselves on an
immense green field, covered with thick grass, which bowed
and shivered in the wind. A few pale cattle grazed here
and there on the savannah; a few birds piped and twittered
in the sunshine. In front of them, at some little distance,
was the town they had come to pillage. It lay open to
them&mdash;a cluster of houses, none of them very large, with
warehouses and tobacco drying-rooms and churches with
bells in them. Outside the town, some of them lying
down, some standing so as to get a view of the enemy,
were the planters and townsfolk, with their pikes and
muskets, waiting for the battle to begin. Right in the
pirates' front was a troop of horsemen armed with lances,
swords, and pistols, drawn up in very good order, and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_142" id="Page_142">[142]</a></span>
ready to advance. The pirates on their coming from the
wood formed into a semicircle or half-moon shape, the
bow outwards, the horns curving to prevent the cavalry
from taking them in flank. They had drums and colours
in their ranks. The drums beat out a bravery, the colours
were displayed. The men halted for a moment to get
their breath and to reprime their guns. Then they advanced
slowly, to the drubbing of the drums, just as the
Spanish horsemen trotted forward. As the Spaniards
sounded the charge, the buccaneers fired a volley of bullets
at them, which brought a number of cavaliers out of their
saddles. Those horsemen who escaped the bullets dashed
down upon the line, and fired their pistols at close quarters,
afterwards wheeling round, and galloping back to reform.
They charged again and again, "like valiant and courageous
soldiers," but at every charge the pirates stood
firm, and withered them with file-firing. As they retired
after each rush, the marksmen in the ranks picked them
off one by one, killing the Governor, in his plumed hat,
and strewing the grass with corpses. They also man&oelig;uvred
during this skirmish so as to cut off the horsemen
from the town. After four hours of battle the cavalry
were broken and defeated, and in no heart to fight
further. They made a last charge on their blown horses,
but their ranks went to pieces at the muzzles of the pirates'
guns. They broke towards the cover of the woods, but
the pirates charged them as they ran, and cut them down
without pity. Then the drums beat out a bravery, and
the pirates rushed the town in the face of a smart fire. The
Spaniards fought in the streets, while some fired from the
roofs and upper windows. So hot was the tussle that the
pirates had to fight from house to house. The townsmen
did not cease their fire, till the pirates were gathering wood
to burn the town, in despair of taking it.</p>

<div class="figcenter" style="width: 295px;">
<a name="img177" id="img177"></a>
<a href="https://brian.carnell.com/wiki/_media/etext:j:john-masefield-on-the-spanish-main-177.jpg"><img src="https://brian.carnell.com/wiki/_media/etext:j:john-masefield-on-the-spanish-main-177_th.jpg" width="295" height="400"
alt="The Towne of Puerto del Principe taken &amp; sackt; Part 2 Page 80."
title="PUERTO DEL PRINCIPE" /></a>
<span class="caption">PUERTO DEL PRINCIPE</span>
</div>

<p>As soon as the firing ceased, the townsfolk were driven<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_143" id="Page_143">[143]</a></span>
to the churches, and there imprisoned under sentinels.
Afterwards the pirates "searched the whole country
round about the town, bringing in day by day many goods
and prisoners, with much provision." The wine and spirits
of the townsfolk were set on tap, and "with this they fell
to banqueting among themselves, and making great cheer
after their customary way." They feasted so merrily that
they forgot their prisoners, "whereby the greatest part
perished." Those who did not perish were examined in
the Plaza, "to make them confess where they had hidden
their goods." Those who would not tell where they had
buried their gold were tortured very barbarously by burning
matches, twisted cords, or lighted palm leaves. Finally,
the starving wretches were ordered to find ransoms, "else
they should be all transported to Jamaica" to be sold as
slaves. The town was also laid under a heavy contribution,
without which, they said, "they would turn every
house into ashes."</p>

<p>It happened that, at this juncture, some buccaneers, who
were raiding in the woods, made prisoner a negro carrying
letters from the Governor of the Havana. The letters
were written to the citizens, telling them to delay the
payment of their ransoms as long as possible, for that he
was fitting out some soldiers to relieve them. The letters
warned Henry Morgan that he had better be away with
the treasure he had found. He gave order for the plunder
to be sent aboard in the carts of the townsfolk. He then
called up the prisoners, and told them very sharply that
their ransoms must be paid the next day, "forasmuch as
he would not wait one moment longer, but reduce the
whole town to ashes, in case they failed to perform the
sum he demanded." As it was plainly impossible for the
townsfolk to produce their ransoms at this short notice
he graciously relieved their misery by adding that he
would be contented with 500 beeves, "together with<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_144" id="Page_144">[144]</a></span>
sufficient salt wherewith to salt them." He insisted that
the cattle should be ready for him by the next morning,
and that the Spaniards should deliver them upon the
beach, where they could be shifted to the ships without
delay. Having made these terms, he marched his men
away towards the sea, taking with him six of the principal
prisoners "as pledges of what he intended." Early the
next morning the beach of Santa Maria bay was thronged
with cattle in charge of negroes and planters. Some of
the oxen had been yoked to carts to bring the necessary
salt. The Spaniards delivered the ransom, and demanded
the six hostages. Morgan was by this time in some anxiety
for his position. He was eager to set sail before the Havana
ships came round the headland, with their guns run out,
and matches lit, and all things ready for a fight. He
refused to release the prisoners until the vaqueros "had
helped his men to kill and salt the beeves." The work
of killing and salting was performed "in great haste," lest
the Havana ships should come upon them before the beef
was shipped. The hides were left upon the sands, there
being no time to dry them before sailing. A Spanish
cowboy can kill, skin, and cut up a steer in a few minutes.
The buccaneers were probably no whit less skilful. By
noon the work was done. The beach of Santa Maria was
strewn with mangled remnants, over which the seagulls
quarrelled. But before Morgan could proceed to sea, he
had to quell an uproar which was setting the French and
English by the ears. The parties had not come to blows,
but the French were clamouring for vengeance with drawn
weapons. A French sailor, who was working on the
beach, killing and pickling the meat, had been plundered
by an Englishman, who "took away the marrowbones he
had taken out of the ox." Marrow, "toute chaude," was a
favourite dish among these people. The Frenchman could
not brook an insult of a kind as hurtful to his dinner as to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_145" id="Page_145">[145]</a></span>
his sense of honour. He challenged the thief to single
combat: swords the weapon, the time then. The buccaneers
knocked off their butcher's work to see the fight.
As the poor Frenchman turned his back to make him
ready, his adversary stabbed him from behind, running
him quite through, so that "he suddenly fell dead upon
the place." Instantly the beach was in an uproar. The
Frenchmen pressed upon the English to attack the
murderer and to avenge the death of their fellow. There
had been bad blood between the parties ever since they
mustered at the quays before the raid began. The quarrel
now raging was an excuse to both sides. Morgan walked
between the angry groups, telling them to put up their
swords. At a word from him, the murderer was seized,
set in irons, and sent aboard an English ship. Morgan
then seems to have made a little speech to pacify the
rioters, telling the French that the man should be hanged
("hanged immediately," as they said of Admiral Byng)
as soon as the ships had anchored in Port Royal bay.
To the English, he said that the criminal was worthy of
punishment, "for although it was permitted him to challenge
his adversary, yet it was not lawful to kill him
treacherously, as he did." After a good deal of muttering,
the mutineers returned aboard their ships, carrying with
them the last of the newly salted beef. The hostages were
freed, a gun was fired from the admiral's ship, and the
fleet hove up their anchors, and sailed away from Cuba,
to some small sandy quay with a spring of water in it,
where the division of the plunder could be made. The
plunder was heaped together in a single pile. It was
valued by the captains, who knew by long experience
what such goods would fetch in the Jamaican towns.</p>

<p>To the "resentment and grief" of all the 700 men
these valuers could not bring the total up to 50,000
pieces of eight&mdash;say &pound;12,000&mdash;"in money and goods."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_146" id="Page_146">[146]</a></span>
All hands were disgusted at "such a small booty,
which was not sufficient to pay their debts at Jamaica."
Some cursed their fortune; others cursed their captain.
It does not seem to have occurred to them
to blame themselves for talking business before their
Spanish prisoners. Morgan told them to "think upon
some other enterprize," for the ships were fit to keep
the sea, and well provisioned. It would be an easy matter,
he told them, to attack some town upon the Main "before
they returned home," so that they should have a little
money for the taverns, to buy them rum with, at the end
of the cruise. But the French were still sore about the
murder of their man: they raised objections to every
scheme the English buccaneers proposed. Each proposition
was received contemptuously, with angry bickerings
and mutterings. At last the French captains intimated
that they desired to part company. Captain Morgan endeavoured
to dissuade them from this resolution by using
every flattery his adroit nature could suggest. Finding
that they would not listen to him, even though he
swore by his honour that the murderer, then in chains,
should be hanged as soon as they reached home, he
brought out wine and glasses, and drank to their good
fortune. The booty was then shared up among the adventurers.
The Frenchmen got their shares aboard, and
set sail for Tortuga to the sound of a salute of guns.
The English held on for Port Royal, in great "resentment
and grief." When they arrived there they caused the
murderer to be hanged upon a gallows, which, we are
told, "was all the satisfaction the French Pirates could
expect."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_147" id="Page_147">[147]</a></span></p>

<div class="blockquot"><p><i>Note.</i>&mdash;If we may believe Morgan's statement to Sir T. Modyford, then
Governor of Jamaica, he brought with him from Cuba reliable evidence
that the Spaniards were planning an attack upon that colony (see State
Papers: West Indies and Colonial Series). If the statements of his prisoners
were correct, the subsequent piratical raid upon the Main had some justification.
Had the Spaniards matured their plans, and pushed the attack home, it
is probable that we should have lost our West Indian possessions.</p>

<p><i>Authorities.</i>&mdash;A. O. Exquemeling: "Bucaniers of America," eds. 1684-5
and 1699. Cal. State Papers: "West Indies."</p></div>



<hr class="chapter" />
<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_148" id="Page_148">[148]</a></span></p>
<h2><a name="CHAPTER_X" id="CHAPTER_X"></a>CHAPTER X</h2>

<h3>THE SACK OF PORTO BELLO</h3>

<div class="blockquot"><p>The Gulf of Maracaibo&mdash;Morgan's escape from the Spaniards</p></div>


<p>It was a melancholy home-coming. The men had little
more than ten pounds apiece to spend in jollity. The
merchants who enjoyed their custom were of those kinds
least anxious to give credit. The ten pounds were but
sufficient to stimulate desire. They did not allow the
jolly mariner to enjoy himself with any thoroughness.
In a day or two, the buccaneers were at the end of their
gold, and had to haunt the street corners, within scent
of the rum casks, thinking sadly of the pleasant liquor
they could not afford to drink. Henry Morgan took
this occasion to recruit for a new enterprise. He went
ashore among the drinking-houses, telling all he met of
golden towns he meant to capture. He always "communicated
vigour with his words," for, being a Welshman,
he had a certain fervour of address, not necessarily sincere,
which touched his simplest phrase with passion. In a
day or two, after a little talk and a little treating, every
disconsolate drunkard in the town was "persuaded by
his reasons, that the sole execution of his orders, would
be a certain means of obtaining great riches." This persuasion,
the writer adds, "had such influence upon their
minds, that with inimitable courage they all resolved
to follow him." Even "a certain Pirate of Campeachy,"
a shipowner of considerable repute, resolved to follow
Morgan "to seek new fortunes and greater advantages
than he had found before." The French might hold aloof,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_149" id="Page_149">[149]</a></span>
they all declared, but an Englishman was still the equal
of a Spaniard; while after all a short life and a merry
one was better than work ashore or being a parson.
With this crude philosophy, they went aboard again to
the decks they had so lately left. The Campeachy pirate
brought in a ship or two, and some large canoas. In all
they had a fleet of nine sail, manned by "four hundred
and three score military men." With this force Captain
Morgan sailed for Costa Rica.</p>

<p>When they came within the sight of land, a council
was called, to which the captains of the vessels went.
Morgan told them that he meant to plunder Porto Bello
by a night attack, "being resolved" to sack the place,
"not the least corner escaping his diligence." He added
that the scheme had been held secret, so that "it would
not fail to succeed well." Besides, he thought it likely
that a city of such strength would be unprepared for
any sudden attack. The captains were staggered by
this resolution, for they thought themselves too weak
"to assault so strong and great a city." To this the
plucky Welshman answered: "If our number is small, our
hearts are great. And the fewer persons we are, the more
union and better shares we shall have in the spoil." This
answer, with the thought of "those vast riches they
promised themselves," convinced the captains that the
town could be attempted. It was a "dangerous voyage
and bold assault" but Morgan had been lucky in the past,
and the luck might still be with him. He knew the Porto
Bello country, having been there with a party (perhaps
Mansvelt's party) some years before. At any rate the
ships would be at hand in the event of a repulse.</p>

<p>It was something of a hazard, for the Spanish garrison
was formed of all the desperate criminals the colonial
police could catch. These men made excellent soldiers,
for after a battle they were given the plunder of the men<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_150" id="Page_150">[150]</a></span>
they had killed. Then Panama, with its great garrison, was
perilously near at hand, being barely sixty miles away, or
two days' journey. Lastly, the town was strongly fortified,
with castles guarding it at all points. The garrison was
comparatively small, mustering about three companies of
foot. To these, however, the buccaneers had to add 300
townsfolk capable of bearing arms. Following John Exquemeling's
plan, we add a brief description of this famous
town, to help the reader to form a mental picture of it.</p>

<p>Porto Bello stands on the south-eastern side of a fine
bay, "in the province of Costa Rica." At the time when
Morgan captured it (in June 1668) it was one of the
strongest cities in the possession of the King of Spain.
It was neglected until 1584, when a royal mandate caused
the traders of Nombre de Dios to migrate thither. It
then became the port of the galleons,<a name="FNanchor_16_16" id="FNanchor_16_16"></a><a href="#Footnote_16_16" class="fnanchor">[16]</a> where the treasures
of the south were shipped for Spain. The city which
Morgan sacked was built upon a strip of level ground
planted with fruit-trees, at a little distance from the sea,
but within a few yards of the bay. The westward half of
the town was very stately, being graced with fine stone
churches and the residence of the lieutenant-general.
Most of the merchants' dwellings (and of these there
may have been 100) were built of cedar wood. Some
were of stone, a thing unusual in the Indies, and some
were partly stone, with wooden upper storeys. There was
a fine stone convent peopled by Sisters of Mercy, and a
dirty, ruinous old hospital for "the sick men belonging to
the ships of war." On the shore there was a quay, backed
by a long stone custom-house. The main street ran along
the shore behind this custom-house, with cross-streets
leading to the two great squares. The eastward half of
the city, through which the road to Panama ran, was
called Guinea; for there the slaves and negroes used to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_151" id="Page_151">[151]</a></span>
live, in huts and cottages of sugar-cane and palm leaves.
There, too, was the slave mart, to which the cargoes of
the Guinea ships were brought. A little river of clear
water divided the two halves of the town. Another little
river, bridged in two places, ran between the town and
Castle Gloria. The place was strongly fortified. Ships
entering the bay had to pass close to the "Iron Castle,"
built upon the western point. Directly they stood away
towards the town they were exposed to the guns of Castle
Gloria and Fort Jeronimo&mdash;the latter a strong castle built
upon a sandbank off the Guinea town. The constant
population was not large, though probably 300 white
men lived there all the year round, in addition to
the Spanish garrison. The native quarter was generally
inhabited by several hundred negroes and mulattoes.
When the galleons arrived there, and for some weeks
before, the town was populous with merchants, who came
across from Panama to buy and sell. Tents were pitched
in the Grand Plaza, in front of the Governor's house, for
the protection of perishable goods, like Jesuits'-bark.
Gold and silver bars became as common to the sight as
pebbles. Droves of mules came daily in from Panama,
and ships arrived daily from all the seaports in the Indies.
As soon as the galleons sailed for Spain, the city emptied
as rapidly as it had filled. It was too unhealthy a
place for white folk, who continued there "no longer
than was needful to acquire a fortune."</p>

<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;">
<a name="img187" id="img187"></a>
<a href="https://brian.carnell.com/wiki/_media/etext:j:john-masefield-on-the-spanish-main-187.jpg"><img src="https://brian.carnell.com/wiki/_media/etext:j:john-masefield-on-the-spanish-main-187_th.jpg" width="500" height="271"
alt="PORTO BELLO; CIRCA 1740. SHOWING THE SITUATION AND DEFENCES OF THE CITY"
title="PORTO BELLO" /></a>
<span class="caption">PORTO BELLO<br />
CIRCA 1740. SHOWING THE SITUATION AND DEFENCES OF THE CITY</span>
</div>

<p>Indeed, Porto Bello was one of the most pestilential
cities ever built, "by reason of the unhealthiness of the
Air, occasioned by certain Vapours that exhale from the
Mountains." It was excessively hot, for it lay (as it still
lies) in a well, surrounded by hills, "without any intervals
to admit the refreshing gales." It was less marshy than
Nombre de Dios, but "the sea, when it ebbs, leaves a vast
quantity of black, stinking mud, from whence there exhales<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_152" id="Page_152">[152]</a></span>
an intolerable noisome vapour." At every fair-time "a
kind of pestilential fever" raged, so that at least 400
folk were buried there annually during the five or six
weeks of the market. The complaint may have been
yellow fever; (perhaps the cholera), perhaps pernicious
fever, aggravated by the dirty habits of the thousands
then packed within the town. The mortality was especially
heavy among the sailors who worked aboard the
galleons, hoisting in or out the bales of merchandise.
These mariners drank brandy very freely "to recruit
their spirits," and in other ways exposed themselves to
the infection. The drinking water of the place was "too
fine and active for the stomachs of the inhabitants," who
died of dysentery if they presumed to drink of it. The
town smoked in a continual steam of heat, unrelieved
even by the torrents of rain which fall there every day.
The woods are infested with poisonous snakes, and abound
in a sort of large toad or frog which crawls into the city
after rains. The tigers "often make incursions into the
street," as at Nombre de Dios, to carry off children and
domestic animals. There was good fishing in the bay,
and the land was fertile "beyond wonder," so that the
cost of living there, in the <i>tiempo muerto</i>, was very
small. There is a hill behind the town called the Capiro,
about which the streamers of the clouds wreathe whenever
rain is coming. The town was taken by Sir Francis
Drake in 1595, by Captain Parker in 1601, by Morgan in
1668, by Coxon in 1679, and by Admiral Vernon in 1740.</p>

<p>Having told his plans, the admiral bade his men make
ready. During the afternoon he held towards the west
of Porto Bello, at some distance from the land. The
coast up to the Chagres River, and for some miles beyond,
is low, so that there was not much risk of the ships being
sighted from the shore. As it grew darker, he edged into
the land, arriving "in the dusk of the evening" at a place<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_153" id="Page_153">[153]</a></span>
called Puerto de Naos, or Port of Ships, a bay midway
between Porto Bello and the Chagres, and about ten
leagues from either place.</p>

<p>They sailed westward up the coast for a little distance
to a place called Puerto Pontin, where they anchored.
Here the pirates got their boats out, and took to the oars,
"leaving in the ships only a few men to keep them, and
conduct them the next day to the port." By the light of
lamps and battle lanterns the boats rowed on through the
darkness, till at midnight they had came to a station
called Estera longa Lemos, a river-mouth a few miles
from Porto Bello, "where they all went on shore." After
priming their muskets, they set forth towards the city,
under the guidance of an English buccaneer, who had
been a prisoner at Porto Bello but a little while before.
When they were within a mile or two of the town, they
sent this Englishmen with three or four companions to
take a solitary sentry posted at the city outskirts. If
they could not take him, they were to kill him, but without
giving the alarm to the inhabitants. By creeping quietly
behind him, the party took the sentry, "with such cunning
that he had no time to give warning with his musket, or
make any other noise." A knife point pressing on his
spine, and a gag of wood across his tongue, warned him
to attempt no outcry. Some rope-yarn was passed about
his wrists, and in this condition he was dragged to Captain
Morgan. As soon as he was in the admiral's presence, he
was questioned as to the number of soldiers then in the
forts, "with many other circumstances." It must have
been a most uncomfortable trial, for "after every question,
they made him a thousand menaces to kill him, in case
he declared not the truth." When they had examined
him to their satisfaction, they recommenced their march,
"carrying always the said sentry bound before them."
Another mile brought them to an outlying fortress, which<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_154" id="Page_154">[154]</a></span>
was built apparently between Porto Bello and the sea,
to protect the coast road and a few outlying plantations.
It was not yet light, so the pirates crept about the fort
unseen, "so that no person could get either in or out."
When they had taken up
<ins class="correction" title="Transcriber's Note: original reads 'their, ground'">their ground,</ins>
Morgan bade the
captured sentry hail the garrison, charging them to
surrender on pain of being cut to pieces. The garrison
at once ran to their weapons, and opened a fierce fire on
the unseen enemy, thus giving warning to the city that
the pirates were attacking. Before they could reload, the
buccaneers, "the noble Sparks of Venus," stormed in
among them, taking them in their confusion, hardly
knowing what was toward. Morgan was furious that
the Spaniards had not surrendered at discretion on his
challenge. The pirates were flushed with the excitement
of the charge. Someone proposed that they "should be
as good as their words, in putting the Spaniards to the
sword, thereby to strike a terror into the rest of the city."
They hustled the Spanish soldiers "into one room,"
officers and men together. The cellars of the fort were
filled with powder barrels. Some ruffian took a handful
of the powder, and spilled a train along the ground,
telling his comrades to stand clear. His mates ran from
the building applauding his device. In another moment
the pirate blew upon his musket match to make the end
red, and fired the train he had laid, "and blew up the
whole castle into the air, with all the Spaniards that were
within." "Much the better way of the two," says one of
the chroniclers, who saw the explosion.</p>

<p>"This being done," says the calm historian, "they
pursued the course of their victory" into the town. By
this time, the streets were thronged with shrieking townsfolk.
Men ran hither and thither with their poor belongings.
Many flung their gold and jewels into wells and
cisterns, or stamped them underground, "to excuse their<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_155" id="Page_155">[155]</a></span>
being totally robbed." The bells were set clanging in the
belfries; while, to increase the confusion, the Governor
rode into the streets, calling on the citizens to rally and
stand firm. As the dreadful panic did not cease, he rode
out of the mob to one of the castles (Castle Gloria), where
the troops were under arms. It was now nearly daybreak,
or light enough for them to see their enemy. As the
pirates came in sight among the fruit-trees, the Governor
trained his heavy guns upon them, and opened a smart
fire. Some lesser castles, or the outlying works of Castle
Gloria, which formed the outer defences of the town,
followed his example; nor could the pirates silence them.
One party of buccaneers crept round the fortifications to
the town, where they attacked the monastery and the
convent, breaking into both with little trouble, and
capturing a number of monks and nuns. With these
they retired to the pirates' lines.</p>

<p>For several hours, the pirates got no farther, though the
fire did not slacken on either side. The pirates lay among
the scrub, hidden in the bushes, in little knots of two and
three. They watched the castle embrasures after each discharge
of cannon, for the Spaniards could not reload without
exposing themselves as they sponged or rammed.
Directly a Spaniard appeared, he was picked off from the
bushes with such precision that they lost "one or two men
every time they charged each gun anew." The losses
on the English side were fully as severe; for, sheltered
though they were, the buccaneers lost heavily. The lying
still under a hot sun was galling to the pirates' temper.
They made several attempts to storm, but failed in each
attempt owing to the extreme gallantry of the defence.
Towards noon they made a furious attack, carrying fireballs,
or cans filled with powder and resin, in their hands
"designing, if possible, to burn the doors of the castle."
As they came beneath the walls, the Spaniards rolled<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_156" id="Page_156">[156]</a></span>
down stones upon them, with "earthen pots full of powder"
and iron shells filled full of chain-shot, "which forced them
to desist from that attempt." Morgan's party was driven
back with heavy loss. It seemed to Morgan at this crisis
that the victory was with the Spanish. He wavered for
some minutes, uncertain whether to call off his men.
"Many faint and calm meditations came into his mind"
seeing so many of his best hands dead and the Spanish
fire still so furious. As he debated "he was suddenly
animated to continue the assault, by seeing the English
colours put forth at one of the lesser castles, then entered
by his men." A few minutes later the conquerors came
swaggering up to join him, "proclaiming victory with loud
shouts of joy."</p>

<p>Leaving his musketeers to fire at the Spanish gunners,
Morgan turned aside to reconnoitre. Making the capture
of the lesser fort his excuse, he sent a trumpet, with a
white flag, to summon the main castle, where the Governor
had flown the Spanish standard. While the herald was
gone upon his errand, Morgan set some buccaneers to
make a dozen scaling ladders, "so broad that three or
four men at once might ascend by them." By the time
they were finished, the trumpeter returned, bearing the
Governor's answer that "he would never surrender himself
alive." When the message had been given, Captain
Morgan formed his soldiers into companies, and bade
the monks and nuns whom he had taken, to place the
ladders against the walls of the chief castle. He thought
that the Spanish Governor would hardly shoot down these
religious persons, even though they bore the ladders for
the scaling parties. In this he was very much mistaken.
The Governor was there to hold the castle for his Catholic
Majesty, and, like "a brave and courageous soldier," he
"refused not to use his utmost endeavours to destroy whoever
came near the walls." As the wretched monks and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_157" id="Page_157">[157]</a></span>
nuns came tottering forward with the ladders, they begged
of him, "by all the Saints of Heaven," to haul his colours
down, to the saving of their lives. Behind them were
the pirates, pricking them forward with their pikes
and knives. In front of them were the cannon of their
friends, so near that they could see the matches burning
in the hands of the gunners. "They ceased not
to cry to him," says the narrative; but they could
not "prevail with the obstinacy and fierceness that
had possessed the Governor's mind"&mdash;"the Governor
valuing his honour before the lives of the Mass-mumblers."
As they drew near to the walls, they
quickened their steps, hoping, no doubt, to get below
the cannon muzzles out of range. When they were but a
few yards from the walls, the cannon fired at them, while
the soldiers pelted them with a fiery hail of hand-grenades.
"Many of the religious men and nuns were killed before
they could fix the ladders"; in fact, the poor folk were
butchered there in heaps, before the ladders caught
against the parapet. Directly the ladders held, the
pirates stormed up with a shout, in great swarms, like
a ship's crew going aloft to make the sails fast. They
had "fireballs in their hands and earthen pots full of
powder," which "they kindled and cast in among the
Spaniards" from the summits of the walls. In the midst
of the smoke and flame which filled the fort the Spanish
Governor stood fighting gallantly. His wife and child
were present in that house of death, among the blood
and smell, trying to urge him to surrender. The men
were running from their guns, and the hand-grenades
were bursting all about him, but this Spanish Governor
refused to leave his post. The buccaneers who came
about him called upon him to surrender, but he answered
that he would rather die like a brave soldier than be
hanged as a coward for deserting his command, "so<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_158" id="Page_158">[158]</a></span>
that they were enforc'd to kill him,
<ins class="correction" title="Transcriber's Note: so in original">nothwithstanding</ins> the
cries of his Wife and Daughter."</p>

<p>The sun was setting over Iron Castle before the firing
came to an end with the capture of the Castle Gloria.
The pirates used the last of the light for the securing of
their many prisoners. They drove them to some dungeon
in the castle, where they shut them up under a guard.
The wounded "were put into a certain apartment by
itself," without medicaments or doctors, "to the intent
their own complaints might be the cure of their diseases."
In the dungeons of the castle's lower battery they found
eleven English prisoners chained hand and foot. They
were the survivors of the garrison of Providence, which
the Spaniards treacherously took two years before. Their
backs were scarred with many floggings, for they had
been forced to work like slaves at the laying of the quay
piles in the hot sun, under Spanish overseers. They were
released at once, and tenderly treated, nor were they
denied a share of the plunder of the town.</p>

<p>"Having finish'd this Jobb" the pirates sought out the
"recreations of Heroick toil." "They fell to eating and
drinking" of the provisions stored within the city, "committing
in both these things all manner of debauchery
and excess." They tapped the casks of wine and brandy,
and "drank about" till they were roaring drunk. In this
condition they ran about the town, like cowboys on a
spree, "and never examined whether it were Adultery
or Fornication which they committed." By midnight
they were in such a state of drunken disorder that "if
there had been found only fifty courageous men, they
might easily have retaken the City, and killed the Pirats."
The next day they gathered plunder, partly by routing
through the houses, partly by torturing the townsfolk.
They seem to have been no less brutal here than they
had been in Cuba, though the Porto Bello houses yielded<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_159" id="Page_159">[159]</a></span>
a more golden spoil than had been won at Puerto Principe.
They racked one or two poor men until they died. Others
they slowly cut to pieces, or treated to the punishment
called "woolding," by which the eyes were forced from
their sockets under the pressure of a twisted cord. Some
were tortured with burning matches "and such like slight
torments." A woman was roasted to death "upon a
baking stone"&mdash;a sin for which one buccaneer ("as he lay
sick") was subsequently sorry.</p>

<p>While they were indulging these barbarities, they drank
and swaggered and laid waste. They stayed within the
town for fifteen days, sacking it utterly, to the last ryal.
They were too drunk and too greedy to care much about
the fever, which presently attacked them, and killed a
number, as they lay in drunken stupor in the kennels.
News of their riot being brought across the isthmus,
the Governor of Panama resolved to send a troop of
soldiers, to attempt to retake the city, but he had great
difficulty in equipping a sufficient force. Before his
men were fit to march, some messengers came in from
the imprisoned townsfolk, bringing word from Captain
Morgan that he wanted a ransom for the city, "or
else he would by fire consume it to ashes." The
pirate ships were by this time lying off the town, in
Porto Bello bay. They were taking in fresh victuals
for the passage home. The ransom asked was 100,000
pieces of eight, or &pound;25,000. If it had not been paid
the pirates could have put their threat in force
without the slightest trouble. Morgan made all ready
to ensure his retreat in the event of an attack from
Panama. He placed an outpost of 100 "well-arm'd"
men in a narrow part of the passage over the isthmus.
All the plunder of the town was sent on board the
ships. In this condition he awaited the answer of the
President.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_160" id="Page_160">[160]</a></span></p>

<p>As soon as that soldier had sufficient musketeers in
arms, he marched them across the isthmus to relieve the
city. They attempted the pass which Morgan had secured,
but lost very heavily in the attempt. The buccaneers
charged, and completely routed them, driving back the
entire company along the road to Panama. The President
had "to retire for that time," but he sent a blustering
note to Captain Morgan, threatening him and his with
death "when he should take them, as he hoped soon to
do." To this Morgan replied that he would not deliver
the castles till he had the money, and that if the money
did not come, the castles should be blown to pieces, with
the prisoners inside them. We are told that "the
Governor of Panama perceived by this answer that no
means would serve to mollify the hearts of the Pirates,
nor reduce them to reason." He decided to let the townsfolk
make what terms they could. In a few days more
these wretched folk contrived to scrape together the
required sum of money, which they paid over as their
ransom.</p>

<p>Before the expedition sailed away, a messenger arrived
from Panama with a letter from the Governor to Captain
Morgan. It made no attempt to mollify his heart nor
to reduce him to reason, but it expressed a wonder at
the pirates' success. He asked, as a special favour, that
Captain Morgan would send him "some small patterns"
of the arms with which the city had been taken. He
thought it passing marvellous that a town so strongly fortified
should have been won by men without great guns.
Morgan treated the messenger to a cup of drink, and gave
him a pistol and some leaden bullets "to carry back to
the President, his Master." "He desired him to accept
that pattern of the arms wherewith he had taken Porto
Bello." He requested him to keep them for a twelvemonth,
"after which time he promised to come to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_161" id="Page_161">[161]</a></span>
Panama and fetch them away." The Spaniard returned
the gift to Captain Morgan, "giving him thanks for lending
him such weapons as he needed not." He also sent a ring
of gold, with the warning "not to give himself the trouble
of coming to Panama," for "he should not speed so well
there" as he had sped at Porto Bello.</p>

<p>"After these transactions" Captain Morgan loosed his
top-sail, as a signal to unmoor. His ships were fully
victualled for the voyage, and the loot was safely under
hatches. As a precaution, he took with him the best
brass cannon from the fortress. The iron guns were
securely spiked with soft metal nails, which were snapped
off flush with the touch-holes. The anchors were weighed
to the music of the fiddlers, a salute of guns was fired,
and the fleet stood out of Porto Bello bay along the wet,
green coast, passing not very far from the fort which they
had blown to pieces. In a few days' time they raised the
Keys of Cuba, their favourite haven, where "with all quiet
and repose" they made their dividend. "They found in
ready money two hundred and fifty thousand pieces of
eight, besides all other merchandises, as cloth, linen, silks
and other goods." The spoil was amicably shared about
the mast before a course was shaped for their "common
rendezvous"&mdash;Port Royal.</p>

<p>A godly person in Jamaica, writing at this juncture in
some distress, expressed himself as follows:&mdash;"There is
not now resident upon this place ten men to every
[licensed] house that selleth strong liquors ... besides
sugar and rum works that sell without license." When
Captain Morgan's ships came flaunting into harbour, with
their colours fluttering and the guns thundering salutes,
there was a rustle and a stir in the heart of every publican.
"All the Tavern doors stood open, as they do at
London, on Sundays, in the afternoon." Within those
tavern doors, "in all sorts of vices and debauchery," the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_162" id="Page_162">[162]</a></span>
pirates spent their plunder "with huge prodigality," not
caring what might happen on the morrow.</p>

<p>Shortly after the return from Porto Bello, Morgan
organised another expedition with which he sailed into
the Gulf of Maracaibo. His ships could not proceed far
on account of the shallowness of the water, but by placing
his men in the canoas he penetrated to the end of the
Gulf. On the way he sacked Maracaibo, a town which
had been sacked on two previous occasions&mdash;the last time
by L'Ollonais only a couple of years before. Morgan's
men tortured the inhabitants, according to their custom,
either by "woolding" them or by placing burning matches
between their toes. They then set sail for Gibraltar, a
small town strongly fortified, at the south-east corner of
the Gulf. The town was empty, for the inhabitants had
fled into the hills with "all their goods and riches." But
the pirates sent out search parties, who brought in many
prisoners. These were examined, with the usual cruelties,
being racked, pressed, hung up by the heels, burnt with
palm leaves, tied to stakes, suspended by the thumbs and
toes, flogged with rattans, or roasted at the camp fires.
Some were crucified, and burnt between the fingers as they
hung on the crosses; "others had their feet put into the
fire."</p>

<p>When they had extracted the last ryal from the sufferers
they shipped themselves aboard some Spanish vessels
lying in the port. They were probably cedar-built ships,
of small tonnage, built at the Gibraltar yards. In these
they sailed towards Maracaibo, where they found "a poor
distressed old man, who was sick." This old man told
them that the Castle de la Barra, which guarded the
entrance to the Gulf, had been mounted with great guns
and manned by a strong garrison. Outside the channel
were three Spanish men-of-war with their guns run out
and decks cleared for battle.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_163" id="Page_163">[163]</a></span></p>

<p>The truth of these assertions was confirmed by a scouting
party the same day. In order to gain a little time
Morgan sent a Spaniard to the admiral of the men-of-war,
demanding a ransom "for not putting Maracaibo
to the flame." The answer reached him in a day or two,
warning him to surrender all his plunder, and telling him
that if he did not, he should be destroyed by the sword.
There was no immediate cause for haste, because the Spanish
admiral could not cross the sandbanks into the Gulf
until he had obtained flat-bottomed boats from Caracas.
Morgan read the letter to his men "in the market-place
of Maracaibo," "both in French and English," and then
asked them would they give up all their spoil, and pass
unharmed, or fight for its possession. They agreed with
one voice to fight, "to the very last drop of blood," rather
than surrender the booty they had risked their skins to
get. One of the men undertook to rig a fireship to
destroy the Spanish admiral's flagship. He proposed to
fill her decks with logs of wood "standing with hats and
Montera caps," like gunners standing at their guns. At
the port-holes they would place other wooden logs to
resemble cannon. The ship should then hang out the
English colours, the Jack or the red St George's cross, so
that the enemy should deem her "one of our best men of
war that goes to fight them." The scheme pleased everyone,
but there was yet much anxiety among the pirates.
Morgan sent another letter to the Spanish admiral,
offering to spare Maracaibo without ransom; to release his
prisoners, with one half of the captured slaves; and to
send home the hostages he brought away from Gibraltar,
if he might be granted leave to pass the entry. The
Spaniard rejected all these terms, with a curt intimation
that, if the pirates did not surrender within two more days,
they should be compelled to do so at the sword's point.</p>

<p>Morgan received the Spaniard's answer angrily, re<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_164" id="Page_164">[164]</a></span>solving
to attempt the passage "without surrendering
anything." He ordered his men to tie the slaves and
prisoners, so that there should be no chance of their
attempting to rise. They then rummaged Maracaibo for
brimstone, pitch, and tar, with which to make their fireship.
They strewed her deck with fireworks and with
dried palm leaves soaked in tar. They cut her outworks
down, so that the fire might more quickly spread to the
enemy's ship at the moment of explosion. They broke
open some new gun-ports, in which they placed small drums,
"of which the negroes make use." "Finally, the decks
were handsomely beset with many pieces of wood dressed
up in the shape of men with hats or monteras, and likewise
armed with swords, muskets, and bandoliers." The
plunder was then divided among the other vessels of the
squadron. A guard of musketeers was placed over the
prisoners, and the pirates then set sail towards the passage.
The fireship went in advance, with orders to fall foul of
the <i>Spanish Admiral</i>, a ship of forty guns.</p>

<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;">
<a name="img203" id="img203"></a>
<a href="https://brian.carnell.com/wiki/_media/etext:j:john-masefield-on-the-spanish-main-203.jpg"><img src="https://brian.carnell.com/wiki/_media/etext:j:john-masefield-on-the-spanish-main-203_th.jpg" width="400" height="255"
alt="THE FIRESHIP DESTROYING THE SPANISH ADMIRAL; CASTLE DE LA BARRA IN BACKGROUND"
title="THE FIRESHIP DESTROYING THE SPANISH ADMIRAL" /></a>
<span class="caption">THE FIRESHIP DESTROYING THE SPANISH ADMIRAL<br />
CASTLE DE LA BARRA IN BACKGROUND</span>
</div>

<p>When it grew dark they anchored for the night, with
sentinels on each ship keeping vigilant watch. They were
close to the entry, almost within shot of the Spaniards,
and they half expected to be boarded in the darkness.
At dawn they got their anchors, and set sail towards the
Spaniards, who at once unmoored, and beat to quarters.
In a few minutes the fireship ran into the man-of-war,
"and grappled to her sides" with kedges thrown into her
shrouds. The Spaniards left their guns, and strove to
thrust her away, but the fire spread so rapidly that they
could not do so. The flames caught the warship's sails,
and ran along her sides with such fury that her men had
hardly time to get away from her before she blew her
bows out, and went to the bottom. The second ship made
no attempt to engage: her crew ran her ashore, and
deserted, leaving her bilged in shallow water. As the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_165" id="Page_165">[165]</a></span>
pirates rowed towards the wreck some of the deserters
hurried back to fire her. The third ship struck her colours
without fighting.</p>

<p>Seeing their advantage a number of the pirates landed
to attack the castle, where the shipwrecked Spaniards
were rallying. A great skirmish followed, in which the
pirates lost more men than had been lost at Porto Bello.
They were driven off with heavy loss, though they continued
to annoy the fort with musket fire till the evening.
As it grew dark they returned to Maracaibo, leaving one
of their ships to watch the fortress and to recover treasure
from the sunken flagship. Morgan now wrote to the
Spanish admiral, demanding a ransom for the town.
The citizens were anxious to get rid of him at any cost,
so they compounded with him, seeing that the admiral
disdained to treat, for the sum of 20,000 pieces of
eight and 500 cattle. The gold was paid, and the
cattle duly counted over, killed, and salted; but
Morgan did not purpose to release his prisoners until
his ship was safely past the fort. He told the Maracaibo
citizens that they would not be sent ashore until the
danger of the passage was removed. With this word he
again set sail to attempt to pass the narrows. He found
his ship still anchored near the wreck, but in more prosperous
sort than he had left her. Her men had brought
up 15,000 pieces of eight, with a lot of gold and silver
plate, "as hilts of swords and other things," besides
"great quantity of pieces of eight" which had "melted
and run together" in the burning of the vessel.</p>

<p>Morgan now made a last appeal to the Spanish admiral,
telling him that he would hang his prisoners if the
fortress fired on him as he sailed past. The Spanish
admiral sent an answer to the prisoners, who had begged
him to relent, informing them that he would do his duty,
as he wished they had done theirs. Morgan heard the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_166" id="Page_166">[166]</a></span>
answer, and realised that he would have to use
some stratagem to escape the threatened danger. He
made a dividend of the plunder before he proceeded
farther, for he feared that some of the fleet might never
win to sea, and that the captains of those which escaped
might be tempted to run away with their ships.
The spoils amounted to 250,000 pieces of eight,
as at Porto Bello, though in addition to this gold
there were numbers of slaves and heaps of costly
merchandise.</p>

<p>When the booty had been shared he put in use his
stratagem. He embarked his men in the canoas, and
bade them row towards the shore "as if they designed
to land." When they reached the shore they hid under
the overhanging boughs "till they had laid themselves
down along in the boats." Then one or two men rowed
the boats back to the ships, with the crews concealed under
the thwarts. The Spaniards in the fortress watched the
going and returning of the boats. They could not see
the stratagem, for the boats were too far distant, but
they judged that the pirates were landing for a night
attack. The boats plied to and from the shore at intervals
during the day. The anxious Spaniards resolved to prepare
for the assault by placing their great guns on the
landward side of the fortress. They cleared away the
scrub on that side, in order to give their gunners a clear
view of the attacking force when the sun set. They
posted sentries, and stood to their arms, expecting to be
attacked.</p>

<p>As soon as night had fallen the buccaneers weighed
anchor. A bright moon was shining, and by the moonlight
the ships steered seaward under bare poles. As
they came abreast of the castle on the gentle current of
the ebb, they loosed their sails to a fair wind blowing
seaward. At the same moment, while the top-sails were<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_167" id="Page_167">[167]</a></span>
yet slatting, Captain Morgan fired seven great guns "with
bullets" as a last defiance. The Spaniards dragged their
cannon across the fortress, "and began to fire very
furiously," without much success. The wind freshened,
and as the ships drew clear of the narrows they felt its
force, and began to slip through the water. One or two
shots took effect upon them before they drew out of
range, but "the Pirates lost not many of their men, nor
received any considerable damage in their ships." They
hove to at a distance of a mile from the fort in order
to send a boat in with a number of the prisoners. They
then squared their yards, and stood away towards Jamaica,
where they arrived safely, after very heavy weather, a
few days later. Here they went ashore in their stolen
velvets and silks to spend their silver dollars in the Port
Royal rum shops. Some mates of theirs were ashore at
that time after an unlucky cruise. It was their pleasure
"to mock and jeer" these unsuccessful pirates, "often
telling them: Let us see what money you brought from
Comana, and if it be as good silver as that which we bring
from Maracaibo."</p>

<div class="blockquot"><p><i>Note.</i>&mdash;On his return from Maracaibo, Morgan gave out that he had met
with further information of an intended Spanish attack on Jamaica. He
may have made the claim to justify his actions on the Main, which were
considerably in excess of the commission Modyford had given him. On the
other hand, a Spanish attack may have been preparing, as he stated; but
the preparations could not have gone far, for had the Spaniards been prepared
for such an expedition Morgan's Panama raid could never have succeeded.</p>

<p><i>Authorities.</i>&mdash;Exquemeling's "History of The Bucaniers of America";
Exquemeling's "History" (the Malthus edition), 1684. Cal. State Papers:
West Indian and Colonial Series.</p>

<p>For my account of Porto Bello I am indebted to various brief accounts
in Hakluyt, and to a book entitled "A Description of the Spanish Islands,"
by a "Gentleman long resident in those parts." I have also consulted the
brief notices in Dampier's Voyages, Wafer's Voyages, various gazetteers,
and some maps and pamphlets relating to Admiral Vernon's attack in
1739-40. There is a capital description of the place as it was in its decadence,
<i>circa</i> 1820, in Michael Scott's "Tom Cringle's Log."</p></div>



<hr class="chapter" />
<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_168" id="Page_168">[168]</a></span></p>
<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XI" id="CHAPTER_XI"></a>CHAPTER XI</h2>

<h3>MORGAN'S GREAT RAID</h3>

<div class="blockquot"><p>Chagres castle&mdash;Across the isthmus&mdash;Sufferings of the buccaneers&mdash;Venta
Cruz&mdash;Old Panama</p></div>


<p>Some months later Henry Morgan found his pirates
in all the miseries of poverty. They had wasted all
their silver dollars, and longed for something "to expend
anew in wine" before they were sold as slaves to pay
their creditors. He thought that he would save them
from their misery by going a new cruise. There was
no need for him to drum up recruits in the rum shops,
for his name was glorious throughout the Indies. He
had but to mention that "he intended for the Main" to
get more men than he could ship. He "assigned the
south side of the Isle of Tortuga" for his rendezvous,
and he sent out letters to the "ancient and expert
Pirates" and to the planters and hunters in Hispaniola,
asking them, in the American general's phrase, "to come
and dip their spoons in a platter of glory." Long before
the appointed day the rendezvous was crowded, for ships,
canoas, and small boats came thronging to the anchorage
with all the ruffians of the Indies. Many marched to
the rendezvous across the breadth of Hispaniola "with
no small difficulties." The muster brought together a
grand variety of rascaldom, from Campeachy in the west
to Trinidad in the east. Hunters, planters, logwood
cutters, Indians, and half-breeds came flocking from their
huts and inns to go upon the grand account. Lastly,
Henry Morgan came in his fine Spanish ship, with the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_169" id="Page_169">[169]</a></span>
brass and iron guns. At the firing of a gun the assembled
captains came on board to him for a pirates' council, over
the punch-bowl, in the admiral's cabin.</p>

<p>It was decided at this council to send a large party
to the Main, to the de la Hacha River, "to assault a small
village" of the name of La Rancheria&mdash;the chief granary
in all the "Terra Firma." The pirates were to seize as
much maize there as they could find&mdash;enough, if possible,
to load the ships of the expedition. While they were
away their fellows at Tortuga were to clean and rig
the assembled ships to fit them for the coming cruise.
Another large party was detailed to hunt in the woods
for hogs and cattle.</p>

<p>In about five weeks' time the ships returned from Rio
de la Hacha, after much buffeting at sea. They brought
with them a grain ship they had taken in the port, and
several thousand sacks of corn which the Spaniards had
paid them as "a ransom for not burning the town."
They had also won a lot of silver, "with all other things
they could rob"&mdash;such as pearls from the local pearl beds.
The hunters had killed and salted an incredible quantity
of beef and pork, the ships were scraped and tallowed,
and nothing more was to be done save to divide the
victuals among all the buccaneers. This division did not
take much time. Within a couple of days the admiral
loosed his top-sail. The pirates fired off their guns and
hove their anchors up. They sailed out of Port Couillon
with a fair wind, in a great bravery of flags, towards the
rendezvous at Cape Tiburon, to the south-west of the
island Hispaniola. When they reached Cape Tiburon,
where there is a good anchorage, they brought aboard
a store of oranges, to save them from the scurvy. While
the men were busy in the orange groves Henry Morgan
"gave letters patent, or commissions," to all his captains,
"to act all manner of hostility against the Spanish<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_170" id="Page_170">[170]</a></span>
nation." For this act he had the sealed authority of
the Council of Jamaica. He was no longer a pirate
or buccaneer, but an admiral leading a national enterprise.
As we have said, he had heard, on the Main,
of an intended Spanish attack upon Jamaica; indeed,
it is probable that his capture of Porto Bello prevented
the ripening of the project. There is no need to whitewash
Morgan, but we may at least regard him at this
juncture as the saviour of our West Indian colonies.
After the serving out of these commissions, and their
due sealing, the captains were required to sign the
customary articles, allotting the shares of the prospective
plunder. The articles allotted very liberal compensation
to the wounded; they also expressly stated the reward
to be given for bravery in battle. Fifty pieces of eight
were allotted to him who should haul a Spanish colour
down and hoist the English flag in its place. Surgeons
received 200 pieces of eight "for their chests of medicaments."
Carpenters received one half of that sum.
Henry Morgan, the admiral of the fleet, was to receive
one-hundredth part of all the plunder taken. His vice-admiral's
share is not stated. As a stimulus to the
pirates, it was published through the fleet that any
captain and crew who ventured on, and took, a Spanish
ship should receive a tenth part of her value as a reward
to themselves for their bravery. When the contracts had
been signed Morgan asked his captains which town they
should attempt. They had thirty-seven ships, carrying at
least 500 cannon. They had 2000 musketeers, "besides
mariners and boys," while they possessed "great quantity
of ammunition, and fire balls, with other inventions of
powder." With such an armament, he said, they could
attack the proudest of the Spanish cities. They could
sack La Vera Cruz, where the gold from Manila was
put aboard the galleons, as they lay alongside the quays<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_171" id="Page_171">[171]</a></span>
moored to the iron ring-bolts; or they could go eastward
to the town of Cartagena to pillage our Lady's
golden altar in the church there; or they could row up
the Chagres River, and keep the promise Morgan had
made to the Governor of Panama. The captains pronounced
for Panama, but they added, as a rider, that it
would be well to go to Santa Katalina to obtain guides.
The Santa Katalina fort was still in the possession of
the Spaniards, who now used it as a convict settlement,
sending thither all the outlaws of the "Terra Firma." It
would be well, they said, to visit Santa Katalina to select
a few choice cut-throats to guide them over the isthmus.
With this resolution they set sail for Santa Katalina,
where they anchored on the fourth day, "before sunrise,"
in a bay called the Aguada Grande.</p>

<p>Some of the buccaneers had been there under Mansvelt,
and these now acted as guides to the men who went
ashore in the fighting party. A day of hard fighting
followed, rather to the advantage of the Spaniards, for
the pirates won none of the batteries, and had to sleep
in the open, very wet and hungry. The next day Morgan
threatened the garrison with death if they did not yield
"within few hours." The Governor was not a very gallant
man, like the Governor at Porto Bello. Perhaps he was
afraid of his soldiers, the convicts from the "Terra Firma."
At <ins class="correction" title="Transcriber's Note: so in original">anyrate</ins>
he consented to surrender, but he asked that
the pirates would have the kindness to pretend to attack
him, "for the saving of his honesty." Morgan agreed
very gladly to this proposition, for he saw little chance
of taking the fort by storm. When the night fell, he
followed the Governor's direction, and began a furious
bombardment, "but without bullets, or at least into the
air." The castles answered in the like manner, burning
a large quantity of powder. Then the pirates stormed
into the castles in a dramatic way; while the Spaniards<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_172" id="Page_172">[172]</a></span>
retreated to the church, and hung out the white
flag.</p>

<p>Early the next morning the pirates sacked the place,
and made great havoc in the poultry-yards and cattle-pens.
They pulled down a number of wooden houses
to supply their camp fires. The guns they nailed or
sent aboard. The powder they saved for their own use,
but some proportion of it went to the destruction of the
forts, which, with one exception, they blew up. For some
days they stayed there, doing nothing but "roast and
eat, and make good cheer," sending the Spaniards to
the fields to rout out fresh provisions. While they lay
there, Morgan asked "if any banditti were there from
Panama," as he had not yet found his guides. Three
scoundrels came before him, saying that they knew the
road across the isthmus, and that they would act as
guides if such action were made profitable. Morgan
promised them "equal shares in all they should pillage
and rob," and told them that they should come with him
to Jamaica at the end of the cruise. These terms suited
the three robbers very well. One of them, "a wicked
fellow," "the greatest rogue, thief and assassin among
them," who had deserved rather "to be broken alive
upon a wheel than punished with serving in a garrison,"
was the spokesman of the trio. He was the Dubosc of
that society, "and could domineer and command over
them," "they not daring to refuse obedience." This
truculent ruffian, with his oaths and his knives and his
black moustachios, was elected head guide.</p>

<p>After several days of ease upon the island Morgan sent
a squadron to the Main, with 400 men, four ships, and
a canoa, "to go and take the Castle of Chagre," at the
entrance to the Chagres River. He would not send a
larger company, though the fort was strong, for he feared
"lest the Spaniards should be jealous of his designs upon<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_173" id="Page_173">[173]</a></span>
Panama"&mdash;lest they should be warned, that is, by refugees
from Chagres before he tried to cross the isthmus.
Neither would he go himself, for he was still bent upon
establishing a settlement at Santa Katalina. He chose
out an old buccaneer, of the name of Brodely or Bradly,
who had sailed with Mansvelt, to command the expedition.
He was famous in his way this Captain Brodely,
for he had been in all the raids, and had smelt a quantity
of powder. He was as brave as a lion, resourceful as a
sailor, and, for a buccaneer, most prudent. Ordering his
men aboard, he sailed for the Chagres River, where, three
days later, he arrived. He stood in towards the river's
mouth; but the guns of the castle opened on him, making
that anchorage impossible. But about a league from the
castle there is a small bay, and here Captain Brodely
brought his ships to anchor, and sent his men to their
blankets, warning them to stand by for an early call.</p>

<div class="figcenter" style="width: 298px;">
<a name="img214" id="img214"></a>
<a href="https://brian.carnell.com/wiki/_media/etext:j:john-masefield-on-the-spanish-main-214.jpg"><img src="https://brian.carnell.com/wiki/_media/etext:j:john-masefield-on-the-spanish-main-214_th.jpg" width="298" height="400"
alt="PLAN of the Town, Road, and Harbour of CHAGRE."
title="CHAGRES" /></a>
<span class="caption">CHAGRES<br />
CIRCA 1739</span>
</div>

<p>The castle of San Lorenzo, which guarded the Chagres
River's mouth, was built on the right bank of that river, on
a high hill of great steepness. The hill has two peaks,
with a sort of natural ditch some thirty feet in depth
between them. The castle was built upon the seaward
peak, and a narrow drawbridge crossed the
<ins class="correction" title="Transcriber's Note: original reads 'gulley'">gully</ins> to the
other summit, which was barren and open to the sight.
The river swept round the northern side of the hill with
considerable force. To the south the hill was precipitous,
and of such "infinite asperity," that no man could climb
it. To the east was the bridged gully connecting the
garrison with the isthmus. To the west, in a crook of
the land, was the little port of Chagres, where ships
might anchor in seven or eight fathoms, "being very
fit for small vessels." Not far from the foot of the hill,
facing the river's mouth, there was a battery of eight great
guns commanding the approach. A little way beneath
were two more batteries, each with six great guns, to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_174" id="Page_174">[174]</a></span>
supplement the one above. A path led from these lower
batteries to the protected harbour. A steep flight of
stairs, "hewed out of the rock," allowed the soldiers
to pass from the water to the summit of the castle. The
defences at the top of the hill were reinforced with
palisadoes. The keep, or inner castle, was hedged about
with a double fence of plank&mdash;the fences being six or
seven feet apart, and the interstices filled in with earth,
like gabions. On one side of the castle were the storesheds
for merchandise and ammunition. On the other,
and within the palisadoes everywhere, were soldiers' huts,
built of mud and wattle, thatched with palm leaves, "after
the manner of the Indians." Lastly, as a sort of outer
defence, a great submerged rock prevented boats from
coming too near the seaward side.</p>

<p>Early in the morning Captain Bradly turned his hands
up by the boatswain's pipe, and bade them breakfast off
their beef and parched corn. Maize and charqui were
packed into knapsacks for the march, and the pirates
rowed ashore to open the campaign. The ruffians from
Santa Katalina took their stations at the head of the
leading company, with trusty pirates just behind them
ready to pistol them if they played false. In good spirits
they set forth from the beach, marching in the cool of the
morning before the sun had risen. The way led through
mangrove swamps, where the men sank to their knees in
rotting grasses or plunged to their waists in slime. Those
who have seen a tropical swamp will know how fierce the
toil was. They were marching in a dank world belonging
to an earlier age than ours. They were in the age of the
coal strata, among wet, green things, in a silence only
broken by the sound of dropping or by the bellow of an
alligator. They were there in the filth, in the heat haze,
in a mist of miasma and mosquitoes. In all probability
they were swearing at themselves for coming thither.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_175" id="Page_175">[175]</a></span></p>

<p>At two o'clock in the afternoon the buccaneers pushed
through a thicket of liane and green cane, and debouched
quite suddenly upon the barren hilltop facing San
Lorenzo Castle. As they formed up, they were met with
a thundering volley, which threw them into some confusion.
They retreated to the cover of the jungle to debate
a plan of battle, greatly fearing that a fort so strongly
placed would be impregnable without great guns to batter
it. However, they were a reckless company, careless of
their lives, and hot with the tramping through the swamp.
Give it up they could not, for fear of the mockery of their
mates. The desperate course was the one course open
to them. They lit the fireballs, or grenades, they had
carried through the marsh; they drew their swords, and
"Come on!" they cried. "Have at all!" And forward
they stormed, cursing as they ran. A company in reserve
remained behind in cover, firing over the storming party
with their muskets.</p>

<p>As the pirates threw themselves into the gully, the
walls of San Lorenzo burst into a flame of gun fire. The
Spaniards fought their cannon furiously&mdash;as fast as they
could fire and reload&mdash;while the musketeers picked off the
leaders from the loopholes. "Come on, ye English dogs!"
they cried. "Come on, ye heretics! ye cuckolds! Let
your skulking mates behind there come on too! You'll
not get to Panama this bout." "Come on" the pirates
did, with great gallantry. They flung themselves down
into the ditch, and stormed up the opposite slope to the
wooden palings. Here they made a desperate attempt to
scale, but the foothold was too precarious and the pales
too high. In a few roaring minutes the attack was at an
end: it had withered away before the Spanish fire. The
buccaneers were retreating in knots of one or two, leaving
some seventy of their number on the sun-bleached rocks of
the gully.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_176" id="Page_176">[176]</a></span></p>

<p>When they got back to the jungle they lay down to
rest, and slept there quietly while the daylight lasted,
though the Spaniards still sent shots in their direction.
As soon as it was dark, they made another furious assault,
flinging their fireballs against the palings in order to
burst the planks apart. While they were struggling in
the ditch, a pirate ran across the gully with his body bent,
as is natural to a running man. As he ran, an arrow took
him in the back, and pierced him through to the side.
He paused a moment, drew the arrow from the wound,
wrapped the shaft of it with cotton as a wad, and fired
it back over the paling with his musket. The cotton he
had used caught fire from the powder, and it chanced
that this blazing shaft drove home into a palm thatch.
In the hurry and confusion the flame was not noticed,
though it spread rapidly across the huts till it reached
some powder casks. There was a violent explosion just
within the palisadoes, and stones and blazing sticks came
rattling down about the Spaniards' ears. The inner castle
roared up in a blaze, calling the Spaniards from their
guns to quench the fire&mdash;no easy task so high above the
water. While the guns were deserted, the pirates ran
along the bottom of the ditch, thrusting their fireballs
under the palisadoes, which now began to burn in many
places. As the flames spread, the planking warped, and
fell. The outer planks inclined slightly outward, like
the futtocks of a ship, so that, when they weakened in the
fire, the inner weight of earth broke them through. The
pirates now stood back from the fort, in the long black
shadows, to avoid the showers of earth&mdash;"great heaps of
earth"&mdash;which were falling down into the ditch. Presently
the slope from the bottom of the gully was piled
with earth, so that the pirates could rush up to the
breaches, and hurl their firepots across the broken woodwork.
The San Lorenzo fort was now a spiring red flame<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_177" id="Page_177">[177]</a></span>
of fire&mdash;a beacon to the ships at sea. Before midnight
the wooden walls were burnt away to charcoal; the inner
fort was on fire in many places; yet the Spaniards still
held the earthen ramparts, casting down "many flaming
pots," and calling on the English dogs to attack them.
The pirates lay close in the shadows, picking off the
Spaniards as they moved in the red firelight, so that
many poor fellows came toppling into the gully from
the mounds.</p>

<p>When day dawned, the castle lay open to the pirates.
The walls were all burnt, and fallen down, but in the
breaches stood the Spanish soldiers, manning their guns
as though the walls still protected them. The fight
began as furiously as it had raged the day before. By
noon most of the Spanish gunners had been shot down
by the picked musketeers; while a storming party ran
across the ditch, and rushed a breach. As the pirates
gained the inside of the fort, the Spanish Governor charged
home upon them with twenty-five soldiers armed with
pikes, clubbed muskets, swords, or stones from the ruin.
For some minutes these men mixed in a last desperate
struggle; then the Spaniards were driven back by the
increasing numbers of the enemy. Fighting hard, they
retreated to the inner castle, cheered by their Governor,
who still called on them to keep their flag aloft. The
inner castle was a ruin, but the yellow flag still flew there,
guarded by some sorely wounded soldiers and a couple
of guns. Here the last stand was made, and here the
gallant captain was hit by a bullet, "which pierced his
skull into the brain." The little band of brave men now
went to pieces before the rush of pirates. Some of them
fell back, still fighting, to the wall, over which they flung
themselves "into the sea," dying thus honourably rather
than surrender. About thirty of them, "whereof scarce
ten were not wounded," surrendered in the ruins of the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_178" id="Page_178">[178]</a></span>
inner fortress. These thirty hurt and weary men were
the survivors of 314 who had stood to arms the day
before. All the rest were dead, save "eight or nine," who
had crept away by boat up the Chagres to take the news to
Panama. No officer remained alive, nor was any powder
left; the Spaniards were true soldiers. The pirates lost
"above one hundred killed" and over seventy wounded,
or rather more than half of the men engaged. While the
few remaining Spaniards dug trenches in the sand for
the burial of the many dead, the pirates questioned them
as to their knowledge of Morgan's enterprise. They knew
all about it, they said, for a deserter from the pirate ships
which raided the Rio de la Hacha (for grain) had spoken
of the scheme to the Governor at Cartagena. That
captain had reinforced the Chagres garrison, and had
sent a warning over the isthmus to the Governor at
Panama. The Chagres was now well lined with ambuscades.
Panama was full of soldiers, and the whole Spanish
population was ready to take up arms to drive the pirates
to their ships, so they knew what they might look to
get in case they persisted in their plan. This information
was sent to Henry Morgan at the Santa Katalina
fort, with news of the reduction of the Chagres
castle. Before he received it, Captain Joseph Bradly
died in the castle, of a wound he had received in the
fighting.</p>

<p>When Morgan received the news that San Lorenzo had
been stormed, he began to send aboard the meat, maize,
and cassava he had collected in Santa Katalina. He had
already blown the Spanish forts to pieces, with the one
exception of the fort of St Teresa. He now took all the
captured Spanish guns, and flung them into the sea, where
they lie still, among the scarlet coral sprays. The Spanish
town was then burnt, and the Spanish prisoners placed
aboard the ships. It was Morgan's intention to return to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_179" id="Page_179">[179]</a></span>
the island after sacking Panama, and to leave there a
strong garrison to hold it in the interests of the buccaneers.
When he had made these preparations he weighed his
anchors, and sailed for the Chagres River under the English
colours.</p>

<p>Eight days later they came sailing slowly up towards
the river's mouth. Their joy was so great "when they saw
the English colours upon the castle, that they minded not
their way into the river," being gathered at the rum cask
instead of at the lead, and calling healths instead of soundings.
As a consequence, four ships of the fleet, including
the admiral's flagship, ran foul of the ledge of rocks at the
river's entry. Several men were drowned, but the goods
and ships' stores were saved, though with some difficulty.
As they got out warps to bring the ships off, the north
wind freshened. In shallow water, such as that, a sea rises
very quickly. In a few hours a regular "norther" had set
in, and the ships beat to pieces on the ledge before the
end of the day.</p>

<p>As Morgan came ashore at the port, the guns were fired
in salute, and the pirates lined the quay and the castle
walls to give him a triumphant welcome. He examined
the castle, questioned the lieutenants, and at once took
steps to repair the damage done by the fire. The thirty
survivors of the garrison and all the prisoners from Santa
Katalina, were set to work to drive in new palisadoes in
the place of those burnt in the attack. The huts were
rethatched and the whole place reordered. There were
some Spanish ships in the port whose crews had been
pressed into the Spanish garrison at the time of the storm.
They were comparatively small, of the kind known as
chatas, or chatten, a sort of coast boat of slight draught,
used for river work and for the conveyance of goods from
the Chagres to the cities on the Main. They had iron and
brass guns aboard them, which were hoisted out, and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_180" id="Page_180">[180]</a></span>
mounted in the fort. Captain Morgan then picked a
garrison of 500 buccaneers to hold the fort, under a
buccaneer named Norman. He placed 150 more in the
ships in the anchorage, and embarked the remainder in
flat-bottomed boats for the voyage up the Chagres.</p>

<p>It was the dry season, so that the river, at times so
turbulent, was dwindled to a tenth of its volume. In order
that the hard work of hauling boats over shallows might
not be made still harder, Morgan gave orders that the
men should take but scanty stock of provisions. A few
maize cobs and a strip or two of charqui was all the
travelling store in the scrips his pilgrims carried. They
hoped that they would find fresh food in the Spanish
strongholds, or ambuscades, which guarded the passage
over the isthmus.</p>

<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;">
<a name="img223" id="img223"></a>
<a href="https://brian.carnell.com/wiki/_media/etext:j:john-masefield-on-the-spanish-main-223.jpg"><img src="https://brian.carnell.com/wiki/_media/etext:j:john-masefield-on-the-spanish-main-223_th.jpg" width="500" height="301"
alt="A Map of the Country and Citty of PANAMA. Part. 3. Page. 31."
title="THE ISTHMUS" /></a>
<span class="caption">THE ISTHMUS<br />
SHOWING MORGAN'S LINE OF ADVANCE</span>
</div>

<p>The company set sail from San Lorenzo on the morning
of the 12th (one says the 18th) of January 1671. They
numbered in all 1200 men, packed into thirty-two canoas
and the five chatas they had taken in the port. His
guides went on ahead in one of the chatas, with her
guns aboard her and the matches lit, and one Robert
Delander, a buccaneer captain, in command. The first
day's sailing against a gentle current was pleasant enough.
In spite of the heat and the overcrowding of the boats,
they made six leagues between dawn and sunset, and
anchored at a place called De los Bracos. Here a
number of the pirates went ashore to sleep "and stretch
their limbs, they being almost crippled with lying too
much crowded in the boats." They also foraged up and
down for food in the plantations; but the Spaniards had
fled with all their stores. It was the first day of the
journey over the isthmus, yet many of the men had already
come to an end of their provisions. "The greatest part
of them" ate nothing all day, nor enjoyed "any other
refreshment" than a pipe of tobacco. The next day,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_181" id="Page_181">[181]</a></span>
"very early in the morning," before the sun rose, they
shoved off from the mooring-place. They rowed all
day, suffering much from the mosquitoes, but made little
progress. The river was fallen very low, so that they
were rowing or poling over a series of pools joined by
shallow rapids. To each side of them were stretches of
black, alluvial mud, already springing green with shrubs
and water-plants. Every now and then, as they rowed
on, on the dim, sluggish, silent, steaming river, they butted
a sleeping alligator as he sunned in the shallows, or were
stopped by a fallen tree, brought by the summer floods
and left to rot there. At twilight, when the crying of
the birds became more intense and the monkeys gathered
to their screaming in the treetops, the boats drew up
to the bank at a planter's station, or wayside shrine, known
as Cruz de Juan Gallego. Here they went ashore to
sleep, still gnawed with famine, and faint with the hard
day's rowing. The guides told Henry Morgan that after
another two leagues they might leave the boats, and push
through the woods on foot.</p>

<p>Early the next morning the admiral decided to leave
the boats, for with his men so faint from hunger he
thought it dangerous to tax them with a labour so
severe as rowing. He left 160 men to protect the fleet,
giving them the strictest orders to remain aboard. "No
man," he commanded, "upon any pretext whatsoever,
should dare to leave the boats and go ashore." The
woods there were so dark and thick that a Spanish
garrison might have lain within 100 yards of the
fleet, and cut off any stragglers who landed. Having
given his orders, he chose out a gang of macheteros, or
men carrying the sharp sword-like machetes, to march
ahead of the main body, to cut a trackway in the pulpy
green stuff. They then set forward through the forest,
over their ankles in swampy mud, up to their knees some<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_182" id="Page_182">[182]</a></span>times
in rotting leaves, clambering over giant tree trunks,
wading through stagnant brooks, staggering and slipping
and swearing, faint with famine; a very desperate gang of
cut-throats. As they marched, the things called garapatadas,
or wood-ticks, of which some six sorts flourish
there, dropped down upon them in scores, to add their
burning bites to the venom of the mosquitoes. In a moist
atmosphere of at least 90&deg;, with heavy arms to carry, that
march must have been terrible. Even the buccaneers,
men hardened to the climate, could not endure it: they
straggled back to the boats, and re-embarked.</p>

<p>With a great deal of trouble the pirates dragged the
boats "to a place farther up the river, called Cedro Bueno,"
where they halted for the stragglers, who drifted in during
the evening. Here they went ashore to a wretched
bivouac, to lie about the camp fires, with their belts drawn
tight, chewing grass or aromatic leaves to allay their
hunger. After Cedro Bueno the river narrowed, so that
there was rather more water to float the canoas. The
land, too, was less densely wooded, and easier for the men
to march upon. On the fourth day "the greatest part
of the Pirates marched by land, being led by one of the
guides." Another guide led the rest of them in the
canoas; two boats going ahead of the main fleet, one on
each side of the river, to discover "the ambuscades of the
Spaniards." The Spaniards had lined the river-banks at
intervals with Indian spies, who were so "very dexterous"
that they brought intelligence of the coming of the
pirates "six hours at least before they came to any place."
About noon on this day, as the boats neared Torna
Cavallos, one of the guides cried out that he saw an
ambuscade. "His voice caused infinite joy to all the
Pirates," who made sure that the fastness would be well
provisioned, and that at last they might "afford something
to the ferment of their stomachs, which now was grown<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_183" id="Page_183">[183]</a></span>
so sharp that it did gnaw their very bowels." The place
was carried with a rush; but the
<ins class="correction" title="Transcriber's Note: original reads 'reboubt'">redoubt</ins>
was empty. The
Spaniards had all fled away some hours before, when
their spies had come in from down the river. There had
been 500 Spaniards there standing to arms behind the
barricade of tree trunks. They had marched away with
all their gear, save only a few leather bags, "all empty,"
and a few crusts and bread crumbs "upon the ground
where they had eaten." There were a few shelter huts,
thatched with palm leaves, within the barricade. These
the pirates tore to pieces in the fury of their disappointment.
They fell upon the leather bags like hungry dogs
quarrelling for a bone. They fought and wrangled for
the scraps of leather, and ate them greedily, "with frequent
gulps of water." Had they taken any Spaniards there
"they would certainly in that occasion [or want] have
roasted or boiled" them "to satisfy their famine."</p>

<p>Somewhat relieved by the scraps of leather, they
marched on along the river-bank to "another post called
Torna Munni." Here they found a second wall of tree
trunks, loopholed for musketry, "but as barren and
desert as the former." They sought about in the woods
for fruits or roots, but could find nothing&mdash;"the Spaniards
having been so provident as not to leave behind them
anywhere the least crumb of sustenance." There was
nothing for them but "those pieces of leather, so hard
and dry," a few of which had been saved "for supper"
by the more provident. He who had a little scrap of hide,
would slice it into strips, "and beat it between two stones,
and rub it, often dipping it in the water of the river, to
render it by these means supple and tender." Lastly, the
hair was scraped off, and the piece "roasted or broiled"
at the camp fire upon a spit of lance wood. "And being
thus cooked they cut it into small morsels, and eat it,"
chewing each bit for several minutes as though loth to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_184" id="Page_184">[184]</a></span>
lose it, and helping it down "with frequent gulps of water."
There was plenty of fish in the Chagres, but perhaps they
had no lines. It seems strange, however, that they made
no attempt to kill some of the myriads of birds and
monkeys in the trees, or the edible snakes which swarm
in the grass, or, as a last resource, the alligators in the
river.</p>

<p>Gaunt with hunger, they took the trail again after a
night of misery at Torna Munni. The going was slightly
better, but there was still the wood-ticks, the intense,
damp heat, and the lust for food to fight against. About
noon they staggered in to Barbacoas, now a station on the
Isthmian Railway. There were a few huts at Barbacoas,
for the place was of some small importance. A native
swinging bridge, made of bejuco cane, was slung across
the river there for the benefit of travellers going to
Porto Bello. An ambush had been laid at Barbacoas,
but the Spaniards had left the place, after sweeping it
as bare as Torna Munni. The land was in tillage near
the huts, but the plantations were barren. "They searched
very narrowly, but could not find any person, animal or
other thing that was capable of relieving their extreme
and ravenous hunger." After a long search they chanced
upon a sort of cupboard in the rocks, "in which they
found two sacks of meal, wheat, and like things, with two
great jars of wine, and certain fruits called Platanos,"
or large bananas. Morgan very firmly refused to allow
the buccaneers to use this food. He reserved it strictly
for those who were in greatest want, thereby saving a
number of lives. The dying men were given a little
meal and wine, and placed in the canoas, "and those
commanded to land that were in them before." They
then marched on "with greater courage than ever," till
late into the night, when they lay down in a plundered
bean patch.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_185" id="Page_185">[185]</a></span></p>

<p>"On the sixth day" they were nearly at the end of
their tether. They dragged along slowly, some in boats,
some in the woods, halting every now and then in despair
of going farther, and then staggering on again, careless
if they lived or died. Their lips were scummy with a
sort of green froth, caused by their eating grass and the
leaves of trees. In this condition they came at noon
to a plantation, "where they found a barn full of maize."
They beat the door in in a few minutes, "and fell to
eating of it dry," till they were gorged with it. There
was enough for all, and plenty left to take away, so they
distributed a great quantity, "giving to every man a good
allowance." With their knapsacks full of corn cobs they
marched on again, in happier case than they had been in
for several days. They soon came to "an ambuscade of
Indians," but no Indians stayed within it to impeach their
passage. On catching sight of the barricade many
buccaneers flung away their corn cobs, with the merry
improvidence of their kind, "with the sudden hopes they
conceived of finding all things in abundance." But the
larder was as bare as it had been in the other strongholds:
it contained "neither Indians, nor victuals, nor anything
else." On the other side of the river, however, there were
many Indians, "a troop of a hundred," armed with bows,
"who escaped away through the agility of their feet."
Some of the pirates "leapt into the river" to attack these
Indians, and to bring them into camp as prisoners. They
did not speed in their attempt, but two or three of them
were shot through the heart as they waded. Their corpses
drifted downstream, to catch in the oars of the canoas,
a horrible feast for the caymans. The others returned to
their comrades on the right or northern bank of the river
among the howls of the Indians: "Hey, you dogs, you,
go on to the savannah; go on to the savannah, to find
out what's in pickle for you."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_186" id="Page_186">[186]</a></span></p>

<p>They could go no farther towards the savannah for that
time, as they wished to cross the river, and did not care
to do so, in the presence of an enemy, without due rest.
They camped about big fires of wood, according to their
custom, but they slept badly, for the hunger and toil had
made them mutinous. The growling went up and down
the camp till it came to Morgan's ears. Most of the
pirates were disgusted with their admiral's "conduct," or
leadership, and urged a speedy return to Port Royal.
Others, no less disgusted, swore savagely that they would
see the job through. Some, who had eaten more burnt
leather than the others, "did laugh and joke at all their
discourses," and so laid a last straw upon their burden.
"In the meanwhile" the ruffian guide, "the rogue, thief,
and assassin," who had merited to die upon a wheel, was
a great comfort to them. "It would not be long," he kept
saying, "before they met with folk, when they would
come to their own, and forget these hungry times." So
the night passed, round the red wood logs in the clearing,
among the steaming jungle.</p>

<p>Early in the morning of the seventh day they cleaned
their arms, wiping away the rust and fungus which had
grown upon them. "Every one discharged his pistol or
musket, without bullet, to examine the security of their
firelocks." They then loaded with ball, and crossed the
river in the canoas. At midday they sighted Venta
Cruz, the village, or little town, which Drake had taken.
The smoke was going up to heaven from the Venta Cruz
chimneys&mdash;a sight very cheering to these pirates. They
had "great joy and hopes of finding people in the town
... and plenty of good cheer." They went on merrily,
"making several arguments to one another [like the gravediggers
in <i>Hamlet</i>] upon those external signs"&mdash;saying
that there could be no smoke without a fire, and no fire in
such a climate save to cook by, and that, therefore, Venta<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_187" id="Page_187">[187]</a></span>
Cruz would be full of roast and boiled by the time they
marched into its Plaza. Thus did they cheer the march and
the heavy labour at the oars as far as the Venta Cruz jetty.</p>

<p>As they entered Venta Cruz at the double, "all sweating
and panting" with the hurry of their advance, they found
the town deserted and in a blaze of fire. There was
nothing eatable there, for the place had been swept clean,
and then fired, by the retreating Spaniards. The only
houses not alight were "the store-houses and stables
belonging the King." These, being of stone, and Government
property, had not been kindled. The storehouses
and stables were, however, empty. Not a horse nor a
mule nor an ass was in its stall. "They had not left
behind them any beast whatsoever, either alive or dead."
Venta Cruz was as profitless a booty as all the other
stations. A few pariah dogs and cats were in the street,
as was perhaps natural, even at that date, in a Central-American
town. These were at once killed, and eaten
half raw, "with great appetite." Before they were despatched,
a pirate lighted on a treasure in a recess of the
King's stables. He found there a stock of wine, some
fifteen or sixteen jars, or demijohns, of good Peruvian
wine, "and a leather sack full of bread." "But no
sooner had they begun to drink of the said wine when
they fell sick, almost every man." Several hundreds had
had a cup or two of the drink, and these now judged
themselves poisoned, and "irrecoverably lost." They
were not poisoned, as it happened, but they had gone
hungry for several days, living on "manifold sorts of
trash." The sudden use of wine and bread caused a very
natural sickness, such as comes to all who eat or drink
greedily after a bout of starving. The sickness upset them
for the day, so that the force remained there, at bivouac in
the village, until the next morning. During the halt
Morgan landed all his men ("though never so weak")<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_188" id="Page_188">[188]</a></span>
from the canoas. He retained only one boat, which he
hid, for use as an advice boat, "to carry intelligence" to
those down the river. The rest of the canoas were sent
downstream to the anchorage at Bueno Cedro, where the
chatas lay moored under a guard. He gave strict orders
to the rest of the pirates that they were not to leave
the village save in companies of 100 together. "One
party of English soldiers stickled not to contravene these
commands, being tempted with the desire of finding victuals."
While they straggled in the tilled ground outside
Venta Cruz they were attacked "with great fury" by a
number of Spaniards and Indians, "who snatched up" one
of them, and carried him off. What was done to this one
so snatched up we are not told. Probably he was tortured
to give information of the pirates' strength, and then
hanged up to a tree.</p>

<p>On the eighth day, in the early morning, the sick
men being recovered, Morgan thought they might proceed.
He chose out an advance-guard of 200 of the
strongest of his men, and sent them forward, with their
matches lighted, to clear the road. The road was a very
narrow one, but paved with cobble stones, and easy to the
feet after the quagmires of the previous week. The men
went forward at a good pace, beating the thickets on each
side of the road. When they had marched some seven or
eight miles they were shot at from some Indian ambush.
A shower of arrows fell among them, but they could not
see a trace of the enemy, till the Indians, who had shot the
arrows, broke from cover and ran to a second fastness.
A few stood firm, about a chief or cacique, "with full
design to fight and defend themselves." They fought very
gallantly for a few moments; but the pirates stormed their
poor defence, and pistolled the cacique, losing eight men
killed and ten wounded before the Indians broke. Shortly
after this skirmish, the advance-guard left the wood,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_189" id="Page_189">[189]</a></span>
coming to open, green grass-land "full of variegated
meadows." On a hill at a little distance they saw a
number of Indians gathered, watching their advance.
They sent out a troop to capture some of these, but the
Indians escaped again, "through the agility of their feet,"
to reappear a little later with their howls of scorn: "Hey,
you dogs, you English dogs, you. Get on to the savannah,
you dogs, you cuckolds. On to the savannah, and see
what's coming to you." "While these things passed the
ten pirates that were wounded were dressed and plastered
up."</p>

<p>In a little while the pirates seized a hilltop facing a
ridge of hill which shut them from the sight of Panama.
In the valley between the two hills was a thick little wood,
where Morgan looked to find an ambush. He sent his
advance-guard of 200 men to search the thicket. As they
entered, some Spaniards and Indians entered from the
opposite side, but no powder was burnt, for the Spaniards
stole away by a bypath, "and were seen no more." That
night a drenching shower of rain fell, blotting out the
landscape in a roaring grey film. It sent the pirates running
hither and thither to find some shelter "to preserve
their arms from being wet." Nearly all the huts and
houses in the district had been fired by the Indians, but
the pirates found a few lonely shepherds' shealings, big
enough to hold all the weapons of the army and a few of
the men. Those who could not find a place among the
muskets were constrained to lie shivering in the open,
enduring much hardship, for the rain did not slacken till
dawn.</p>

<p>At daybreak Morgan ordered them to march "while
the fresh air of the morning lasted"; for they were now in
open country, on the green savannah, where they would
have no treetops to screen them from the terrible sun.
During their morning march they saw a troop of Spanish<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_190" id="Page_190">[190]</a></span>
horse, armed with spears, watching the advance at a safe
distance, and retiring as the pirates drew nearer. Shortly
after this they topped a steep rise, and lo! the smoke
of Panama, and the blue Pacific, with her sky-line
trembling gently, and a ship under sail, with five boats,
going towards some emerald specks of islands. The clouds
were being blown across the sky. The sun was glorious
over all that glorious picture, over all the pasture, so green
and fresh from the rain. There were the snowy Andes
in the distance, their peaks sharply notched on the clear
sky. Directly below them, in all her beauty, was the
royal city of Panama, only hidden from sight by a roll of
green savannah.</p>

<p>Just at the foot of the rise, in a wealth of fat pasture,
were numbers of grazing cattle, horses, and asses&mdash;the
droves of the citizens. The pirates crept down, and shot
a number of these, "chiefly asses," which they promptly
flayed, while some of their number gathered firewood.
As soon as the fires were lit the meat was blackened
in the flame, and then greedily swallowed in "convenient
pieces or gobbets." "They more resembled cannibals
than Europeans at this banquet," for the blood ran down
the beards of many, so hungry were they for meat after
the long agony of the march. What they could not eat
they packed in their satchels. After a long midday rest
they fell in again for the march, sending fifty men ahead
to take prisoners "if possibly they could," for in all the
nine days' tramp they had taken no one to give them
information of the Spaniards' strength. Towards sunset
they saw a troop of Spaniards spying on them, who
hallooed at them, but at such a distance that they could
not distinguish what was said. As the sun set "they
came the first time within sight of the highest steeple
of Panama."</p>

<p>This was a stirring cordial to the way-weary men<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_191" id="Page_191">[191]</a></span>
limping down the savannah. The sight of the sea was
not more cheering to the Greeks than the sight of the
great gilt weathercock, shifting on the spire, to these
haggard ruffians with the blood not yet dry upon their
beards. They flung their hats into the air, and danced
and shouted. All their trumpets shouted a levity, their
drums beat, and their colours were displayed. They
camped there, with songs and laughter, in sight of that
steeple, "waiting with impatience," like the French
knights in the play, for the slowly coming dawn. Their
drums and trumpets made a merry music to their singing,
and they caroused so noisily that a troop of horsemen
rode out from Panama to see what was the matter. "They
came almost within musket-shot of the army, being preceded
by a trumpet that sounded marvellously well."
They rode up "almost within musket-shot," but made
no attempt to draw the pirates' fire. They "hallooed
aloud to the Pirates, and threatened them," with "Hey,
ye dogs, we shall meet ye," in the manner of the Indians.
Seven or eight of them stayed "hovering thereabouts,"
riding along the camp until the day broke, to watch the
pirates' movements. As soon as their main body reached
the town, and reported what they had seen, the Governor
ordered the city guns to open on the pirates' camp. The
biggest guns at once began a heavy fire, from which one
or two spent balls rolled slowly to the outposts without
doing any damage. At the same time, a strong party
took up a position to the rear of the camp, as though
to cut off the retreat.</p>

<p>Morgan placed his sentries, and sent his men to supper.
They feasted merrily on their "pieces of bulls' and horses'
flesh," and then lay down on the grass to smoke a pipe
of tobacco before turning in. That last night's camp
was peaceful and beautiful: the men were fed and near
their quarry, the sun had dried their wet clothes; the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_192" id="Page_192">[192]</a></span>
night was fine, the stars shone, the Panama guns were
harmless. They slept "with great repose and huge
satisfaction," careless of the chance of battle, and anxious
for the fight to begin.</p>


<h3>PANAMA</h3>

<p>Old Panama, the chief Spanish city in South America,
with the one exception of Cartagena, was built along
the sea-beach, fronting the bay of Panama, between the
rivers Gallinero and Matasnillos. It was founded between
1518 and 1520 by Pedrarias Davila, a poor adventurer,
who came to the Spanish Indies to supersede Balboa,
having at that time "nothing but a sword and buckler."
Davila gave it the name of an Indian village then standing
on the site. The name means "abounding in fish." It
soon became the chief commercial city in those parts, for
all the gold and silver and precious merchandise of Peru
and Chili were collected there for transport to Porto
Bello. At the time of Morgan's attack upon it, it
contained some 7000 houses, with a number of huts
and hovels for the slaves. The population, counting
these latter, may have been as great as 30,000.
Many of the houses were of extreme beauty, being built
of an aromatic rose wood, or "native cedar," ingeniously
carved. Many were built of stone in a Moorish fashion,
with projecting upper storeys. It had several stone monasteries
and convents, and a great cathedral, dedicated to
St Anastasius, which was the most glorious building in
Spanish America. Its tower still stands as a landmark
to sailors, visible many miles to sea. The stones of it
are decorated with defaced carvings. Inside it, within the
ruined walls, are palm and cedar trees, green and beautiful,
over the roots of which swarm the scarlet-spotted coral
snakes. The old town was never properly fortified. The<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_193" id="Page_193">[193]</a></span>
isthmus was accounted a sufficient protection to it, and
the defences were consequently weak. It was a town
of merchants, who "thought only of becoming rich, and
cared little for the public good." They lived a very stately
life there, in houses hung with silk, stamped leather,
and Spanish paintings, drinking Peruvian wines out of
cups of gold and silver. The Genoese Company, a company
of slavers trading with Guinea, had a "stately house"
there, with a spacious slave market, where the blacks were
sold over the morning glass. The Spanish King had
some long stone stables in the town, tended by a number
of slaves. Here the horses and mules for the recuas were
stabled in long lines, like the stables of a cavalry barrack.
Near these were the royal storehouses, built of stone, for
the storage of the gold from the King's mines. There were
also 200 merchants' warehouses, built in one storey, round
which the slaves slept, under pent roofs.</p>

<p>Outside the city was the beautiful green savannah,
a rolling sea of grass, with islands of trees, cedar and
palm, thickly tangled with the many-coloured bindweeds.
To one side of it, an arm of the sea crept inland, to
a small salt lagoon, which rippled at high tide, at the
back of the city. The creek was bridged to allow the
Porto Bello carriers to enter the town, and a small
gatehouse or porter's lodge protected the way. The
bridge is a neat stone arch, still standing. The streets
ran east and west, "so that when the sun rises no one can
walk in any of the streets, because there is no shade
whatever; and this is felt very much as the heat is intense;
and the sun is so prejudicial to health, that if a
man is exposed to its rays for a few hours, he will be
attacked with a fatal illness [pernicious fever], and this has
happened to many." The port was bad for shipping,
because of the great rise and fall of the tides. The bay
is shallow, and ships could only come close in at high<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_194" id="Page_194">[194]</a></span>
water. At low water the town looked out upon a strip
of sand and a mile or more of very wet black mud. "At
full moon, the waves frequently reach the houses and enter
those on that side of the town." The roadstead afforded
safe anchorage for the great ships coming up from Lima.
Loading and unloading was performed by launches, at
high water, on days when the surf was moderate. Small
ships sailed close in at high tide, and beached themselves.</p>

<p>To landward there were many gardens and farms, where
the Spaniards had "planted many trees from Spain"&mdash;such
as oranges, lemons, and figs. There were also plantain
walks, and a great plenty of pines, guavas, onions, lettuces,
and "alligator pears." Over the savannah roamed herds
of fat cattle. On the seashore, "close to the houses of
the city," were "quantities of very small mussels." The
presence of these mussel beds determined the site of the
town, "because the Spaniards felt themselves safe from
hunger on account of these mussels."</p>

<p>The town is all gone now, saving the cathedral tower,
where the sweet Spanish bells once chimed, and the
little stone bridge, worn by so many mules' hoofs.
There is dense tropical forest over the site of it, though
the foundations of several houses may be traced, and
two or three walls still stand, with brilliant creepers
covering up the carved work. It is not an easy place
to reach, for it is some six miles from new Panama, and
the way lies through such a tangle of creepers, over such
swampy ground, poisonous with so many snakes, that
it is little visited. It can be reached by sea on a fine
day at high tide if the surf be not too boisterous. To
landward of the present Panama there is a fine hill, called
Mount An&ccedil;on. A little to the east of this there is a roll
of high land, now a fruitful market-garden, or farm of
orchards. This high land, some five or six miles from
the ruins, is known as Buccaneers' Hill. It was from the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_195" id="Page_195">[195]</a></span>
summit of this high land that the pirates first saw the
city steeple. Local tradition points out a few old Spanish
guns of small size, brass and iron, at the near-by village
of El Moro, as having been left by Morgan's men. At
the island of Taboga, in the bay of Panama, they point
with pride to a cave, the haunt of squid and crabs, as
the hiding-place of Spanish treasure. In the blackness
there, they say, are the golden sacramental vessels and
jewelled vestments of the great church of St Anastasius.
They were hidden there at the time of the raid,
so effectually that they could never be recovered. We
can learn of no other local tradition concerning the sack
and burning.</p>

<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;">
<a name="img240" id="img240"></a>
<a href="https://brian.carnell.com/wiki/_media/etext:j:john-masefield-on-the-spanish-main-240.jpg"><img src="https://brian.carnell.com/wiki/_media/etext:j:john-masefield-on-the-spanish-main-240_th.jpg" width="400" height="290"
alt="NEW PANAMA" title="NEW PANAMA" /></a>
<span class="caption">NEW PANAMA</span>
</div>

<p>What old Panama was like we do not know, for we
can trace no picture of it. It was said to be the peer of
Venice, "the painted city," at a time when Venice was
yet the "incomparable Queene." It could hardly have
been a second Venice, though its situation on that beautiful
blue bay, with the Andes snowy in the distance, and
the islands, like great green gems, to seaward, is lovely
beyond words. It was filled with glorious houses, carved
and scented, and beautiful with costly things. The merchants
lived a languorous, luxurious life there, waited
on by slaves, whom they could burn or torture at their
pleasure. It was "the greatest mart for gold and silver
in the whole world." There were pearl fisheries up and
down the bay, yielding the finest of pearls; and "golden
Potosi"&mdash;the tangible Eldorado, was not far off. The
merchants of old Panama were, perhaps, as stately fellows
and as sumptuous in their ways of life as any "on the
Rialto." Their city is now a tangle of weeds and a
heap of sun-cracked limestone; their market-place is
a swamp; their haven is a stretch of surf-shaken mud,
over which the pelicans go quarrelling for the bodies
of fish.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_196" id="Page_196">[196]</a></span></p>

<div class="blockquot"><p><i>Authorities.</i>&mdash;Exquemeling's "History"; "The Bucaniers of America."
Don Guzman's Account, printed in the "Voyages and Adventures of Captain
Bartholomew Sharp." Cal. State Papers: West Indies and Colonial Series.
"Present State of Jamaica," 1683. "New History of Jamaica," 1740.</p>

<p>For my account of Chagres I am indebted to friends long resident on
the isthmus, and to Dampier's and Wafer's Voyages.</p></div>



<hr class="chapter" />
<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_197" id="Page_197">[197]</a></span></p>
<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XII" id="CHAPTER_XII"></a>CHAPTER XII</h2>

<h3>THE SACK OF PANAMA</h3>

<div class="blockquot"><p>The burning of the city&mdash;Buccaneer excesses&mdash;An abortive mutiny&mdash;Home&mdash;Morgan's
defection</p></div>


<p>"On the tenth day, betimes in the morning," while the
black and white monkeys were at their dawn song,
or early screaming, the pirates fell in for the march, with
their red flags flying and the drums and trumpets making
a battle music. They set out gallantly towards the city
by the road they had followed from Venta Cruz. Before
they came under fire, one of the guides advised Morgan
to attack from another point. The Spaniards, he said,
had placed their heavy guns in position along the probable
line of their advance. Every clump of trees near
the trackway would be filled with Spanish sharpshooters,
while they might expect earth-works or trenches nearer
to the city. He advised Morgan to make a circuit, so
as to approach the city through the forest&mdash;over the
ground on which new Panama was built, a year or
two later. Morgan, therefore, turned rather to the west
of the highway, through some tropical woodland, where
the going was very irksome. As they left the woodland,
after a march of several hours, they again entered the
savannah, at a distance of about a mile and a half from
the town. The ground here was in sweeping folds, so
that they had a little hill to climb before the town lay
open to them, at the edge of the sea, to the eastward
of the salt lagoon. When they topped this rise they<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_198" id="Page_198">[198]</a></span>
saw before them "the forces of the people of Panama,
extended in battle array," between them and the quarry.</p>

<p>The Spanish strength on this occasion, according to
the narrative, was as follows:&mdash;400 horse, of the finest
horsemen in the world; twenty-four companies of foot,
each company mustering a full 100 men; and "sixty
Indians and some negroes." These last were "to drive
two thousand wild bulls and cause them to run over the
English camp, and thus, by breaking their files, put them
into a total disorder and confusion." Morgan gives the
numbers as 2100 foot and 600 horse, with "two Droves
of Cattel of 1500 apiece," one for each flank or for the
angles of the rear. The Spanish Governor, who had been
"lately blooded 3 times for an Erysipelas," had not done
as well as he could have wished in the preparation of
an army of defence. He says that he had brought together
1400 coloured men, armed with "Carbins, Harquebusses,
and Fowling Pieces," the muskets having been
lost at Chagres. He gives the number of cavalry as
200, "mounted on the same tired Horses which had
brought them thither." He admits that there were "50
cow-keepers" and an advance-guard of 300 foot. He had
also five field-guns "covered with leather." To these
forces may be added the townsfolk capable of bearing
arms. These were not very numerous, for most of the
inhabitants, as we have seen, "thought only of getting
rich and cared little for the public good." They were
now, however, in a cold sweat of fear at the sight of
the ragged battalion trooping down from the hilltop.
They had dug trenches for themselves within the city
and had raised batteries to sweep the important streets.
They had also mounted cannon on the little stone fort,
or watchman's lodge, at the town end of the bridge across
the creek.</p>

<p>The sight of so many troops drawn out in order "sur<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_199" id="Page_199">[199]</a></span>prised"
the pirates "with great fear." The droves of
"wild bulls" pasturing on the savannah grass were new
to their experience; the cavalry they had met before
in Cuba and did not fear, nor did they reckon themselves
much worse than the Spanish foot; but they saw that
the Spaniards outnumbered them by more than two to
one, and they recognised the advantage they had in
having a defensible city to fall back upon. The buccaneers
were worn with the long march, and in poor
case for fighting. They halted at this point, while Morgan
formed them into a tertia, or division of three battalions
or troops, of which he commanded the right wing. The
sight of so many Spaniards halted below them set them
grumbling in the ranks. "Yea few or none there were
but wished themselves at home, or at least free from
the obligation of that Engagement." There was, however,
nothing else for it. A "wavering condition of Mind" could
not help them. They had no alternative but "to fight
resolutely, or die." They might not look to get quarter
"from an Enemy against whom they had committed so
many Cruelties."</p>

<p>Morgan formed his men in order, and sent out skirmishers
to annoy the Spanish troops, and to draw them
from their position. A few shots were exchanged; but the
Spaniards were not to be tempted, nor was the ground
over which the skirmishers advanced at all suitable for
moving troops. Morgan, therefore, edged his men away
to the left, to a little hill beyond a dry gut or water-course&mdash;a
position which the Spaniards could not attack
from more than one side owing to the nature of the
ground, which was boggy. Before they could form upon
the lower slopes of the hill the Spanish horse rode softly
forward, shouting: "Viva el Rey!" ("Long live the King"),
with a great display of courage. "But the field being full
of quaggs, and very soft under foot, they could not ply<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_200" id="Page_200">[200]</a></span>
to and fro, and wheel about, as they desired." When
they had come to a little beyond musket-shot "one
Francisco Detarro," the colonel of the cavalry, called
out to his troopers to charge home upon the English
van. The horses at once broke into a gallop, and charged
in "so furiously" that Morgan had to strengthen his ranks
to receive them, "we having no Pikes" with which to gall
the horses. As the men galloped forward, the line of
buccaneers made ready to fire. Each musketeer put one
knee to the ground, and touched off his piece, blasting
the Spanish regiment almost out of action at the one
discharge. The charge had been pressed so nearly home
that the powder corns burnt the leading horses. Those
who survived the shock of the volley swung off to the
right to re-form, while the foot came on in their tracks
"to try their Fortunes." They were received with such
a terrible fire that they never came to handystrokes.
They disputed the point for some hours, gradually falling
into disorder as their losses became more and more heavy.
The cavalry re-formed, and charged a second and a third
time, with the result that after two hours' fighting "the
Spanish Horse was ruined, and almost all killed." During
the engagement of the foot, the Indians and negroes tried
their stratagem of the bulls. They drove the herds round
the flanking parties to the rear, and endeavoured to force
them through the English lines. "But the greatest part
of that wild cattle ran away, being frighted with the noise
of the Battle. And some few, that broke through the
English Companies, did no other harm than to tear the
Colours in pieces; whereas the Buccaneers shooting them
dead, left not one to Trouble them thereabouts."</p>

<div class="figcenter" style="width: 450px;">
<a name="img247" id="img247"></a>
<a href="https://brian.carnell.com/wiki/_media/etext:j:john-masefield-on-the-spanish-main-247.jpg"><img src="https://brian.carnell.com/wiki/_media/etext:j:john-masefield-on-the-spanish-main-247_th.jpg" width="450" height="263"
alt="The Battel Between the Spaniards and the pyrats or Buccaniers before the Citty of PANAMA. Part. 3 Page 54"
title="THE BATTLE OF PANAMA" /></a>
<span class="caption">THE BATTLE OF PANAMA</span>
</div>

<p>Seeing the Spanish foot in some disorder, with many
of their officers killed and few of the men firing, Morgan
plied them with shot and sent his left wing forward as
they fell back. The horse made one last gallant attempt<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_201" id="Page_201">[201]</a></span>
to break the English line, but the attempt caused their
complete destruction. At the same moment Morgan
stormed down upon the foot with all his strength. The
Spaniards fired "the Shot they had in their Muskets,"
and flung their weapons down, not caring to come to
handystrokes. They ran "everyone which way he could
run"&mdash;an utter rout of broken soldiers. The pirates were
too fatigued to follow, but they picked them off as they
ran till they were out of musket-shot.</p>

<p>The buccaneers apparently then cleared away the
stragglers, by pistolling them wherever they could find
them. In this employment they beat through the shrubs
by the sea, where many poor citizens had hidden themselves
after the final routing of the troops. Some monks
who were brought in to Captain Morgan were treated
in the same manner, "for he, being deaf to their Cries,
commanded them to be instantly pistolled," which order
was obeyed there and then. A captain or colonel of
troops was soon afterwards taken, and held to ransom
after a strict examination. He told Morgan that he
might look to have great trouble in winning the city,
for the streets were all dug about with trenches and
mounted with heavy brass guns. He added that the
main entrance to the place was strongly fortified, and
protected by a half company of fifty men with eight
brass demi-cannon.</p>

<p>Morgan now bade his men rest themselves and take
food before pushing on to the town. He held a review
of his army before he marched, and found that he had
lost heavily&mdash;perhaps 200 men&mdash;while the Spaniards
had lost about three times that number. "The Pirates,"
we read, "were nothing discouraged, seeing their number
so much diminished but rather filled with greater pride
than before." The comparative heaviness of the Spanish
loss must have been very comforting. After they had<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_202" id="Page_202">[202]</a></span>
rested and eaten they set out towards the town, "plighting
their Oaths to one another in general, they would fight
till never a man were left alive." A few prisoners, who
seemed rich enough to be held to ransom, were marched
with them under a guard of musketeers.</p>

<p>Long before they trod the streets of Panama, they were
under fire from the batteries, "some of which were charged
with small pieces of iron, and others with musket-bullets."</p>

<p>They lost men at every step; but their ranks kept
steady, and street by street the town was won. The main
agony of the fight took place between two and three
o'clock, in the heat of the day, when the last Spanish
gunners were cut to pieces at their guns. After the last
gun was taken, a few Spaniards fired from street corners
or from upper windows, but these were promptly pistolled
or knocked on the head. The town was in the hands of
the pirates by the time the bells chimed three that afternoon.</p>

<p>As Morgan rested with his captains in the Plaza, after
the heat of the battle, word was brought to him that the
city was on fire in several places. Many have supposed
that the town was fired by his orders, or by some careless
and drunken musketeer of his. It was not the buccaneer
custom to fire cities before they had sacked them, nor is it
in the least likely that Morgan would have burnt so
glorious a town before he had offered it to ransom. The
Spaniards have always charged Morgan with the crime,
but it seems more probable that the Spanish Governor was
the guilty one. It is yet more probable that the fire was
accidental. Most of the Spanish houses were of wood,
and at that season of the year the timber would have been
of extreme dryness, so that a lighted wad or match end
might have caused the conflagration. At the time when
the fire was first noticed, the pirates were raging through
the town in search of plunder. They may well have flung<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_203" id="Page_203">[203]</a></span>
away their lighted matches to gather up the spoils they
found, and thus set fire to the place unwittingly.</p>

<p>Hearing that the town was burning, Morgan caused his
trumpeters to sound the assembly in the Plaza. When
the pirates mustered, Morgan at once told off men to
quench the fire "by blowing up houses by gunpowder, and
pulling down others to stop its progress." He ordered
strong guards to patrol the streets and to stand sentry
without the city. Lastly, he forbade any member of the
army "to dare to drink or taste any wine," giving out that
it had all been poisoned beforehand by the Spaniards.
He feared that his men would get drunk unless he frightened
them by some such tale. With a drunken army
rolling in the streets he could hardly hope to hold the
town against an enemy so lightly beaten as the Spaniards.
He also sent some sailors down to the beach to seize "a
great boat which had stuck in the mud of the port."</p>

<p>For all that the pirates could do, the fire spread rapidly,
for the dry cedar beams burned furiously. The warehouses
full of merchandise, such as silks, velvets, and fine
linen, were not burned, but all the grand houses of the
merchants, where the life had been so stately, were utterly
gutted&mdash;all the Spanish pictures and coloured tapestries
going up in a blaze. The splendid house of the Genoese,
where so many black men had been bought and sold, was
burned to the ground. The chief streets were ruined
before midnight, and the fire was not wholly extinguished
a month later when the pirates marched away. It continued
to burn and smoulder long after they had gone.</p>

<p>Having checked the riot among his army, Morgan sent
a company of 150 men back to the garrison at the mouth
of the Chagres with news of his success. Two other companies,
of the same strength, he sent into the woods, "being
all very stout soldiers and well-armed," giving them orders
to bring in prisoners to hold to ransom. A third company<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_204" id="Page_204">[204]</a></span>
was sent to sea under a Captain Searles to capture a
Spanish galleon which had left the port, laden with gold
and silver and the jewels of the churches, a day or two
before. The rest of his men camped out of doors, in the
green fields without the city, ready for any attack the
Spaniards might make upon them. Search parties rummaged
all day among the burning ruins, "especially in
wells and cisterns," which yielded up many jewels and
fine gold plates. The warehouses were sacked, and many
pirates made themselves coats of silk and velvet to replace
the rags they came in. It is probable that they committed
many excesses in the heat of the first taking of the town,
but one who was there has testified to the comparative
gentleness of their comportment when "the heat of the
blood" had cooled. "As to their women," he writes, "I
know [not] or ever heard of anything offered beyond their
wills; something I know was cruelly executed by Captain
Collier [commander of one of the ships and one of the
chief officers of the army] in killing a Frier in the field
after quarter given; but for the Admiral he was noble
enough to the vanquished enemy." In fact, the</p>

<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
<span class="i18">"Want of rest and victual<br /></span>
<span class="i0">Had made them chaste&mdash;they ravished very little"<br /></span>
</div></div>

<p>&mdash;which matter must be laid to their credit.</p>

<p>A day or two was passed by the pirates in rummaging
among the ruins, eating and drinking, and watching the
Spaniards as they moved in the savannahs. Troops of
Spaniards prowled there under arms, looking at their
burning houses and the grey smoke ever going upward.
They did not attack the pirates; they did not even fire
at them from a distance. They were broken men without
a leader, only thankful to be allowed to watch their blazing
city. A number of them submitted to the armed men
sent out to bring in prisoners. A number lingered in the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_205" id="Page_205">[205]</a></span>
near-by forests in great misery, living on grass and
alligator eggs, the latter tasting "like half-rotten musk"&mdash;a
poor diet after "pheasants" and Peruvian wine.</p>

<p>Morgan soon received word from Chagres castle that
all was very well with the garrison. Captain Norman,
who had remained in charge, under oath to keep the
"bloody flag," or red pirates' banner, flying, "had sent forth
to sea two boats, to exercise piracy." These had hoisted
Spanish colours, and set to sea, meeting with a fine
Spanish merchantman that very same day. They chased
this ship into the Chagres River, where "the poor
Spaniards" were caught in a snare under the guns of the
fort. Her cargo "consisted in victuals and provisions,
that were all eatable things," unlike the victuals given
usually to sailors. Such a prize came very opportunely,
for the castle stores were running out, while the ship's
crew proved useful in the bitter work of earth carrying
then going on daily on the ramparts for the repairing of
the palisado. Hearing that the Chagres garrison was in
such good case, and so well able to exercise piracy without
further help, Admiral Morgan resolved to make a longer
stay in the ruins of old Panama. He arranged "to send forth
daily parties of two hundred men" to roam the countryside,
beating the thickets for prisoners, and the prisoners for
gold. These parties ranged the country very thoroughly,
gathering "in a short time, a huge quantity of riches, and
no less number of prisoners." These poor creatures were
shut up under a guard, to be brought out one by one for
examination. If they would not confess where they had
hidden their gold, nor where the gold of their neighbours
lay, the pirates used them as they had used their prisoners
at Porto Bello. "Woolding," burning with palm leaves,
and racking out the arm-joints, seem to have been the
most popular tortures. Many who had no gold were
brutally ill treated, and then thrust through with a lance.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_206" id="Page_206">[206]</a></span></p>

<p>Among these diversions Admiral Morgan fell in love
with a beautiful Spanish lady, who appears to have been
something of a paragon. The story is not worth repeating,
nor does it read quite sincerely, but it is very probably
true. John Exquemeling, who had no great love for
Morgan, declares that he was an eye-witness of the love-making,
"and could never have judged such constancy
of mind and virtuous chastity to be found in the world."
The fiery Welshman did not win the lady, but we gather
from the evidence that he could have had the satisfaction
of Matthew Arnold's American, who consoled himself, in
similar circumstances, with saying: "Well, I guess I
lowered her moral tone some."</p>

<p>During the first week of their stay in Panama, the ship
they had sent to sea returned with a booty of three small
coast boats. Captain Searles had sailed her over Panama
Bay to the beautiful island of Taboga, in order to fill fresh
water and rob the inhabitants. Here they took "the
boatswain and most of the crew"<a name="FNanchor_17_17" id="FNanchor_17_17"></a><a href="#Footnote_17_17" class="fnanchor">[17]</a> of the <i>Trinity</i>, a Spanish
galleon, "on board which were the Friers and Nuns, with
all the old gentlemen and Matrons of the Town, to the
number of 1500 souls, besides an immense Treasure in
Silver and Gold." This galleon had seven small guns
and ten or twelve muskets for her whole defence. She
was without provisions, and desperately short of water,
and she had "no more sails than the uppermost sails of
the mainmast." Her captain was "an old and stout
Spaniard, a native of Andalusia, in Spain, named Don
Francisco de Peralta." She was "very richly laden with
all the King's Plate and great quantity of riches of gold,
pearl, jewels, and other most precious goods, of all the
best and richest merchants of Panama. On board of this
galleon were also the religious women, belonging to the
nunnery of the said city, who had embarked with them all<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_207" id="Page_207">[207]</a></span>
the ornaments of their church, consisting in great quantity
of gold, plate, and other things of great value." This
most royal prize was even then slowly dipping past
Taboga, with her sea-sick holy folk praying heartily for
the return of the water casks. She could have made no
possible defence against the pirates had they gone at once
in pursuit of her. But this the pirates did not do. In
the village at Taboga there was a wealthy merchant's
summer-house, with a cellar full of "several sorts of rich
wines." A bird in the hand is worth two in the bush, or
as a bibulous wit once said to the present writer: "A
bottle now is worth a bath of it to-morrow." Captain
Searles and his men chose to drink a quiet bowl in the
cabin rather than go sail the blue seas after the golden
galleon. They made a rare brew of punch, of which they
drank "logwood-cutters' measure," or a gallon and a half
a man. After this they knocked out their tobacco pipes,
and slept very pleasantly till the morning. They woke
"repenting of their negligence" and "totally wearied of
the vices and debaucheries aforesaid." With eyes red
with drink they blinked at the empty punch-bowls. Then
with savage "morning-tempers" they damned each other
for a lot of lunkheads, and put to sea (in one of the Taboga
prizes) "to pursue the said galleon" with all speed. However,
by this time Don Peralta, a most gallant and resourceful
captain, had brought the golden <i>Trinity</i> to a
place of safety. Had she been taken, she would have
yielded a spoil hardly smaller than that taken by Cavendish
in the <i>Madre de Dios</i> or that which Anson won in the
Manila galleon. Several waggon loads of golden chalices
and candlesticks, with ropes of pearls, bags of emeralds
and bezoars, and bar upon bar of silver in the crude, were
thus bartered away for a sup of punch and a drunken
chorus in the cabin. Poor Captain Searles never prospered
after. He went logwood cutting a year or two later, and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_208" id="Page_208">[208]</a></span>
as a logwood cutter he arrived at the Rio Summasenta,
where he careened his ship at a sandy key, since known
as Searles Key. He was killed a few days afterwards, "in
the western lagune" there, "by one of his Company as
they were cutting Logwood together." That was the end
of Captain Searles.</p>

<p>Morgan was very angry when he heard of the escape
of the galleon. He at once remanned the four prizes, and
sent them out, with orders to scour the seas till they
found her. They cruised for more than a week, examining
every creek and inlet, beating up many a
sluggish river, under many leafy branches, but finding
no trace of the <i>Trinity</i>. They gave up the chase at
last, and rested at Taboga, where, perhaps, some "rich
wines" were still in bin. They found a Payta ship at
anchor at Taboga, "laden with cloth, soap, sugar and
biscuit, with twenty thousand pieces of eight in ready
money." She was "a reasonable good ship," but the
cargo, saving the money, was not much to their taste.
They took the best of it, and loaded it aboard her longboat,
making the Taboga negroes act as stevedores.
They then set the negroes aboard the prize, and carried
her home to Panama, "some thing better satisfied of their
voyage, yet withal much discontented they could not meet
with the galleon." It was at Taboga, it seems, that the
lady who so inflamed Sir Henry was made prisoner.</p>

<p>At the end of three weeks of "woolding" and rummaging,
Admiral Morgan began to prepare for the journey home.
He sent his men to look for mules and horses on which
to carry the plunder to the hidden canoas in the river.
He learned at this juncture that a number of the pirates
intended to leave him "by taking a ship that was in
the port," and going to "rob upon the South Sea." They
had made all things ready, it seems, having hidden "great
quantity of provisions," powder, bullets, and water casks,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_209" id="Page_209">[209]</a></span>
with which to store their ship. They had even packed
the good brass guns of the city, "where with they designed
not only to equip the said vessel but also to fortify themselves
and raise batteries in some island or other, which
might serve them for a place of refuge." The scheme
was fascinating, and a very golden life they would have
had of it, those lucky mutineers, had not some spoil-sport
come sneaking privily to Morgan with a tale of what
was toward. They might have seized Cocos Island or
Juan Fernandez, or "some other island," such as one of
the Enchanted, or Gallapagos, Islands, where the goddesses
were thought to dwell. That would have been a happier
life than cutting logwood, up to the knees in mud, in
some drowned savannah of Campeachy.</p>

<p>However, just as the wine-bowl spoiled the project of
the galleon, so did the treachery of a lickspittle, surely
one of the meanest of created things, put an end to the
mutiny. Morgan was not there to colonise Pacific Oceans,
but to sack Panama. He had no intention of losing half
his army for an imperial idea. He promptly discouraged
the scheme by burning all the boats in the roads. The
ship or chata, which would have been the flagship of the
mutineers, was dismasted, and the masts and rigging
were added to the general bonfire. All the brass cannon
they had taken were nailed and spiked. Wooden bars
were driven down their muzzles as firmly as possible, and
the wood was then watered to make it swell. There was
then no more talk of going a-cruising to found republics.</p>

<p>Morgan thought it wise to leave Panama as soon as
possible, before a second heresy arose among his merry
men. He had heard that the Governor of Panama was
busily laying ambuscades "in the way by which he ought
to pass at his return." He, therefore, picked out a strong
company of men, including many of the mutineers, and
sent them out into the woods to find out the truth of the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_210" id="Page_210">[210]</a></span>
matter. They found that the report was false, for a few
Spanish prisoners, whom they captured, were able to tell
them how the scheme had failed. The Governor, it was
true, had planned to make "some opposition by the way,"
but none of the men remaining with him would consent
to "undertake any such enterprize." With this news the
troops marched back to Panama. While they were away,
the poor prisoners made every effort to raise money for
their ransoms, but many were unable to raise enough to
satisfy their captors. Morgan had no wish to wait till
they could gather more, for by this time, no doubt, he
had satisfied himself that he had bled the country of all
the gold it contained. Nor did he care to wait till the
Spaniards had plucked up heart, and planted some
musketeers along the banks of the Chagres. He had
horses and mules enough to carry the enormous heaps of
plunder to the river. It was plainly foolish to stay longer,
for at any time a force might attack him (by sea) from
Lima or (by land) from Porto Bello. He, therefore, gave
the word for the army to prepare to march. He passed
his last evening in Panama (as we suppose) with the
female paragon from Taboga. The army had one last
debauch over the punch-bowls round the camp fires, and
then fell in to muster, thinking rapturously of the inns
and brothels which waited for their custom at Port Royal.</p>

<div class="figcenter" style="width: 316px;">
<a name="img259" id="img259"></a>
<a href="https://brian.carnell.com/wiki/_media/etext:j:john-masefield-on-the-spanish-main-259.jpg"><img src="https://brian.carnell.com/wiki/_media/etext:j:john-masefield-on-the-spanish-main-259_th.jpg" width="316" height="400"
alt="S^r. Hen: Morgan; Part 2. Chap 4." title="SIR HENRY MORGAN" /></a>
<span class="caption">SIR HENRY MORGAN</span>
</div>

<p>"On the 24th of February, of the year 1671, Captain
Morgan departed from the city of Panama, or rather from
the place where the said city of Panama did stand; of the
spoils whereof he carried with him one hundred and seventy-five
beasts of carriage, laden with silver, gold and other
precious things, besides six hundred prisoners more or less,
between men, women, children and slaves." Thus they
marched out of the ruined capital, over the green savannah,
towards the river, where a halt was called to order the army
for the march to Venta Cruz. A troop of picked marksmen<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_211" id="Page_211">[211]</a></span>
was sent ahead to act as a scouting party; the rest of the
company marched in hollow square, with the prisoners in
the hollow. In this array they set forward towards Venta
Cruz to the sound of drums and trumpets, amid "lamentations,
cries, shrieks and doleful sighs" from the wretched
women and children. Most of these poor creatures were
fainting with thirst and hunger, for it had been Morgan's
policy to starve them, in order "to excite them more
earnestly to seek for money wherewith to ransom themselves."
"Many of the women," says the narrative, "begged
of Captain Morgan upon their knees, with infinite sighs
and tears, he would permit them to return to Panama,
there to live in company of their dear husbands and
children, in little huts of straw which they would erect,
seeing they had no houses until the rebuilding of the
city. But his answer was: he came not thither to hear
lamentations and cries, but rather to seek money. Therefore
they ought to seek out for that in the first place,
wherever it were to be had, and bring it to him, otherwise
he would assuredly transport them all to such places
whither they cared not to go." With this answer they had
to remain content, as they lay in camp, under strict guard,
on the banks of the Rio Grande.</p>

<p>Early the next morning, "when the march began,"
"those lamentable cries and shrieks were renewed, in so
much as it would have caused compassion in the hardest
heart to hear them. But Captain Morgan, a man little
given to mercy, was not moved therewith in the least."
They marched in the same order as before, but on this
day, we read, the Spaniards "were punched and thrust
in their backs and sides, with the blunt end of [the pirates']
arms, to make them march the faster." The "beautiful
and virtuous lady" "was led prisoner by herself, between
two Pirates," both of whom, no doubt, wished the other dear
charmer away. She, poor lady, was crying out that she<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_212" id="Page_212">[212]</a></span>
had asked two monks to fetch her ransom from a certain
hiding-place. They had taken the money, she cried,
according to her instruction, but they had used it to
ransom certain "of their own and particular friends."
This evil deed "was discovered by a slave, who brought
a letter to the said lady." In time, her words were reported
to Captain Morgan, who held a court of inquiry
there and then, to probe into the truth of the matter.
The monks made no denial of the fact, "though under
some frivolous excuses, of having diverted the money but
for a day or two, within which time they expected more
sums to repay it." The reply angered Morgan into releasing
the poor woman, "detaining the said religious
men as prisoners in her place," and "using them according
to the deserts of their incompassionate intrigues."
Probably they were forced to run the gauntlet between
two rows of pirates armed with withes of bejuco.</p>

<p>A day's hard marching brought them to the ruins of
Venta Cruz, on the banks of the river, where the canoas
lay waiting for them under a merry boat guard. The
army rested at Venta Cruz for three days, while maize
and rice were collected for the victualling of the boats.
Many prisoners succeeded in raising their ransoms during
this three days' halt. Those who failed, were carried down
the river to San Lorenzo. On the 5th of March the
plunder was safely shipped, the army went aboard the
canoas, the prisoners (including some from Venta Cruz)
were thrust into the bottoms of the boats, and the homeward
voyage began. The two monks who had embezzled
the lady's money escaped translation at this time, being
ransomed by their friends before the sailing of the fleet.
The canoas dropped down the river swiftly, with songs
and cheers from the pirates, till they came to some opening
in the woods, half way across the isthmus, where the
banks were free enough from brush to allow them to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_213" id="Page_213">[213]</a></span>
camp. Here they mustered in order, as though for a
review, each man in his place with his sword and firelock.
Here Captain Morgan caused each man to raise his right
hand, and to swear solemnly that he had concealed nothing
privately, "even not so much as the value of sixpence."
Captain Morgan, a Welshman by birth, "having had some
experience that those lewd fellows would not much stickle
to swear falsely in points of interest, commanded every
one to be searched very strictly, both in their clothes and
satchels and everywhere it might be presumed they had
reserved anything. Yea, to the intent this order might
not be ill-taken by his companions, he permitted himself
to be searched, even to the very soles of his shoes." One
man out of each company was chosen to act as searcher
to his fellows, and a very strict search was made. "The
French Pirates were not well satisfied with this new
custom of searching," but there were not very many of
them, and "they were forced to submit to it." When
the search was over, they re-embarked, and soon afterwards
the current caught them, and spun them down
swiftly to the lion-like rock at the river's mouth. They
came safely to moorings below San Lorenzo on the
9th of March. They found that most of the wounded
they had left there had died of fever, but the rest of
the garrison was in good case, having "exercised piracy"
with profit all the time the army had been plundering.
There was "joy, and a full punch-bowl," in the castle
rooms that night.</p>

<p>Morgan now sent his Santa Katalina prisoners to Porto
Bello in "a great boat," demanding a ransom for Chagres
castle, "threatening otherwise" to blast it to pieces. "Those
of Porto Bello," who needed all their money to repair their
own walls, replied that "They would not give one farthing
towards the ransom of the said castle, and that the
English might do with it as they pleased"&mdash;a sufficiently<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_214" id="Page_214">[214]</a></span>
bold answer, which sealed the fate of San Lorenzo. When
the answer came, the men were again mustered, and "the
dividend was made of all the spoil they had purchased
in that voyage." Each man received his due share, "or
rather what part thereof Captain Morgan was pleased
to give." There was general dissatisfaction with "his
proceedings in this particular," and many shaggy ruffians
"feared not to tell him openly" that he had "reserved
the best jewels to himself." They "judged it
impossible" that the share per man should be but
a paltry 200 pieces of eight, or &pound;50, after "so many
valuable booties and robberies." Why, they said, it is
less than we won at Porto Bello. Many swore fiercely
that, if they had known how small the booty was
to prove, they would have seen Henry Morgan in gaol
before they 'listed. Why they did not tear him piecemeal,
and heave him into the sea, must remain a mystery.
They contented themselves with damning him to his face
for a rogue and a thief, at the same time praying that a
red-hot hell might be his everlasting portion. "But
Captain Morgan," says the narrative, "was deaf to all
these, and many other complaints of this kind, having
designed in his mind to cheat them of as much as he
could."</p>

<p>Deaf though he was, and callous, he had a fine regard
for his own skin. The oaths and curses which were shouted
after him as he walked in the castle made him "to fear
the consequence thereof." He "thought it unsafe to
remain any longer time at Chagre," so he planned a
master stroke to defeat his enemies. The castle guns
were dismounted, and hoisted aboard his flagship. The
castle walls were then blasted into pieces, the lower
batteries thrown down, and the houses burnt. When
these things had been done "he went secretly on board
his own ship, without giving any notice of his departure<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_215" id="Page_215">[215]</a></span>
to his companions, nor calling any council, as he used
to do. Thus he set sail, and put out to sea, not bidding
anybody adieu, being only followed by three
or four vessels of the fleet." The captains of these ships,
it was believed, had shared with him in the concealed
plunder.</p>

<p>There was great fury among the buccaneers when
Morgan's escape was known. The French pirates were
for putting to sea in pursuit, to blow his ships out of
the water, but Morgan had been sufficiently astute to
escape in the provision ships. The pirates left behind
had not food enough to stock their ships, and could not
put to sea till more had been gathered. While they
cursed and raged at Chagres, Morgan sailed slowly to
Port Royal, where he furled his sails, and dropped
anchor, after a highly profitable cruise. The Governor
received his percentage of the profits, and Morgan at
once began to levy recruits for the settling of Santa
Katalina.</p>

<p>As for his men, they stayed for some days in considerable
misery at San Lorenzo. They then set sail in
companies, some for one place, some for another, hoping
to find food enough to bring them home. Some went
to the eastward, raiding the coast for food, and snapping
up small coasting vessels. Some went to the bay of
Campeachy to cut logwood and to drink rum punch.
Others went along the Costa Rican coast to find turtle
to salt for victuals, and to careen their barnacled and
wormy ships. One strong company went to Cuba, where
they sacked the Town of the Keys, and won a good booty.
Most of them came home, in time, but to those who
returned that home-coming was bitter.</p>

<p>Shortly after Morgan's return to Jamaica, a new
Governor arrived from England with orders to suppress
the gangs of privateers. He had instructions to proclaim<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_216" id="Page_216">[216]</a></span>
a general pardon for all those buccaneers who cared to
take advantage of the proclamation within a given time.
Those who wished to leave "their naughty way of life"
were to be encouraged by grants of land (thirty-five acres
apiece), so that they might not starve when they forsook
piracy. But this generous offer was merely a lure or
bait to bring the buccaneers to port, in order that the
Governor might mulct them "the tenths and fifteenths
of their booty as the dues of the Crown for granting
them commissions." The news of the intended taxation
spread abroad among the pirates. They heard, too, that
in future they would find no rest in Port Royal; for this new
Governor was earnest and diligent in his governorship.
They, therefore, kept away from Port Royal, and made
Tortuga their rendezvous, gradually allying themselves
with the French buccaneers, who had their stronghold
there. Some of them, who returned to Port Royal, were
brought before the magistrate, and hanged as pirates.
Their old captain, Henry Morgan, left his former way
of life, and soon afterwards become Governor of Jamaica.
He was so very zealous in "discouraging" the buccaneers
that the profession gradually lost its standing. The
best of its members took to logwood cutting or to
planting; the worst kept the seas, like water-Ishmaelites,
plundering the ships of all nations save their own. They
haunted Tortuga, the keys of Cuba, the creeks and inlets
of the coast, and the bays at the western end of Jamaica.
They were able to do a great deal of mischief; for there
were many of them, and the English Colonial governors
could not spare many men-of-war to police the seas.
Often the pirates combined and made descents upon
the coast as in the past. Henry Morgan's defection did
but drive them from their own pleasant haunt, Port
Royal. The "free-trade" of buccaneering throve as it
had always thriven. But about the time of Morgan's<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_217" id="Page_217">[217]</a></span>
consulship we read of British men-of-war helping to
discourage the trade, and thenceforward the buccaneers
were without the support of the Colonial Government.
Those who sailed the seas after Morgan's time were
public enemies, sailing under the shadow of the gallows.</p>

<div class="blockquot"><p><i>Authorities.</i>&mdash;W. Nelson: "Five Years at Panama." P. Mimande:
"Souvenirs d'un Echapp&eacute; de Panama." A. Reclus: "Panama et Darien."
A. Radford: "Jottings on Panama." J. de Acosta: "Voyages." S. de
Champlain: "Narrative." Cie&ccedil;a de Leon: "Travels." Exquemeling:
"Bucaniers of America." Don Perez de la Guzman: "Account of the
Sack of Panama."</p>

<p>I am also indebted to friends long resident in the present city of Panama.</p></div>



<hr class="chapter" />
<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_218" id="Page_218">[218]</a></span></p>
<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XIII" id="CHAPTER_XIII"></a>CHAPTER XIII</h2>

<h3>CAPTAIN DAMPIER</h3>

<div class="blockquot"><p>Campeachy&mdash;Logwood cutting&mdash;The march to Santa Maria</p></div>


<p>William Dampier, a Somersetshire man, who
had a taste for roving, went to the West Indies
for the first time in 1674, about three years after the sack
of Panama. He was "then about twenty-two years old,"
with several years of sea-service behind him. He had
been to the north and to the east, and had smelt
powder in a King's ship during the Dutch wars. He
came to the West Indies to manage a plantation, working
his way "as a Seaman" aboard the ship of one Captain
Kent. Planting sugar or cocoa on Sixteen-Mile Walk
in an island so full of jolly sinners proved to be but dull
work. Dampier tried it for some weeks, and then slipped
away to sea with a Port Royal trader, who plied about
the coast, fetching the planters' goods to town, and
carrying European things, such as cloth, iron, powder,
or the like, to the planters' jetties along the coast. That
was a more pleasant life, for it took the young man all
round the island, to quiet plantings where old buccaneers
were at work. These were kindly fellows, always ready
for a yarn with the shipmen who brought their goods
from Port Royal. They treated the young man well,
giving him yams, plantains, and sweet potatoes, with
leave to wander through their houses. "But after six
or seven Months" Dampier "left that Employ," for he
had heard strange tales of the logwood cutters in
Campeachy Bay, and longed to see something of them.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_219" id="Page_219">[219]</a></span>
He, therefore, slipped aboard a small Jamaica vessel which
was going to the bay "to load logwood," with two other
ships in company. The cargo of his ship "was rum and
sugar; a very good Commodity for the Log-wood Cutters,
who were then about 250 Men, most English." When
they anchored off One Bush Key, by the oyster banks
and "low Mangrovy Land," these lumbermen came aboard
for drink, buying rum by the gallon or firkin, besides
some which had been brewed into punch. They stayed
aboard, drinking, till the casks gave out, firing off their
small-arms with every health, and making a dreadful
racket in that still lagoon, where the silence was seldom
so violently broken. The logwood began to come aboard
a day or two later; and Dampier sometimes went ashore
with the boat for it, on which occasions he visited the
huts of the woodmen, and ate some merry meals with
them, "with Pork and Pease, or Beef and Dough-boys,"
not to mention "Drams or Punch."</p>

<p>On the voyage home he was chased by Spaniards,
who "fired a Gun" at the ketch, but could not fetch
her alongside.</p>

<p>It was an easy life aboard that little ketch; for every
morning they fished for their suppers, and at no time
was any work done unless the ship was actually in peril
of wreck. While they were lazying slowly eastward,
"tumbling like an Egg-shell in the Sea," her captain
ran her on the Alcranes, a collection of sandy little
islands, where they stayed for some days before they
found a passage out to sea. They spent the days in
fishing, or flinging pebbles at the rats, or killing boobies,
and then set sail again, arriving after some days' sailing,
at the Isles of Pines.</p>

<p>Here they landed to fill fresh water at the brooks,
among the sprays of red mangrove, which grew thickly
at the water's edge. They also took ashore their "two<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_220" id="Page_220">[220]</a></span>
bad Fowling-pieces," with intent to kill a wild hog
or cow, being then in want of food, for the ship's
provisions had given out. They did not kill any meat
for all their hunting, nor did they catch much fish.
Their ill success tempted the sailors to make for the
Cuban keys, where they thought they would find great
abundance, "either Fish or Flesh." The Cuban keys
were favourite haunts of the buccaneers, but it was
dangerous for a small ship like the ketch to venture
in among them. On Cape Corientes there was a Spanish
garrison of forty soldiers, chiefly mulattoes and caribs,
who owned a swift periagua, fitted with oars and sails.
They kept sentinels always upon the Cape, and whenever
a ship hove in sight they would "launch out," and
seize her, and cut the throats of all on board, "for fear
of telling Tales." Fear of this garrison, and the prudent
suggestion of Dampier&mdash;that "it was as probable that
we might get as little Food in the South Keys, as we
did at Pines, where, though there was plenty of Beefs
and Hogs, yet we could not to tell how to get any&mdash;" at
last prevailed upon the seamen to try for Jamaica. They
were without food of any kind, save a little flour from
the bottoms of the casks, and two "Barrels of Beef,"
which they had taken west to sell, "but 'twas so bad
that none would buy it." On a porridge of this meat,
chopped up with mouldy flour, they contrived to keep
alive, "jogging on" towards the east till they made
Jamaica. They arrived off Blewfield's Point thirteen
weeks after leaving Campeachy, and, as Dampier says:
"I think never any vessel before nor since made such
Traverses ... as we did.... We got as much Experience
as if we had been sent out on a Design."
However, they dropped their anchor "at Nigrill" "about
three a Clock in the Afternoon," and sent in the boat
for fruit and poultry. One or two sea-captains, whose<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_221" id="Page_221">[221]</a></span>
ketches were at anchor there, came out to welcome the
new arrival. In the little "Cabbin," where the lamp
swung in gimbals, the sailors "were very busie, going
to drink a Bowl of Punch, ... after our long Fatigue
and Fasting." The thirsty sea-captains, bronzed by the
sun, came stumping down the ladder to bear a hand.
One captain, "Mr John Hooker," said that he was under
"Oath to drink but three Draughts of Strong Liquor
a Day." The bowl, which had not been touched, lay
with him, with six quarts of good rum punch inside
it. This Mr Hooker, "putting the Bowl to his Head,
turn'd it off at one Draught"&mdash;he being under oath,
and, doubtless, thirsty. "And so, making himself drunk,
disappointed us of our Expectations, till we made
another Bowl." Thus with good cheer did they recruit
themselves in that hot climate after long sailing of the
seas.</p>

<p>Dampier passed the next few weeks in Port Royal,
thinking of the jolly life at One Bush Key, and of the
little huts, so snugly thatched, and of the camp fires,
when the embers glowed so redly at night before the
moon rose. The thought of the logwood cutters passing
to and fro about those camp fires, to the brandy barrel
or the smoking barbecue, was pleasant to him. He felt
inclined "to spend some Time at the Logwood Trade,"
much as a young gentleman of that age would have
spent "some Time" on the grand tour with a tutor.
He had a little gold laid by, so that he was able to
lay in a stock of necessaries for the trade&mdash;such as
"Hatchets, Axes, Long Knives, Saws, Wedges, etc., a
Pavillion to sleep in, a Gun with Powder and Shot, etc."
When all was ready, he went aboard a New England
ship, and sailed for Campeachy, where he settled "in
the West Creek of the West Lagoon" with some old
logwood cutters who knew the trade.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_222" id="Page_222">[222]</a></span></p>

<p>Logwood cutting was then a very profitable business,
for the wood fetched from &pound;70 to &pound;100 a ton
in the European markets. The wood is very dense,
and so heavy that it sinks in water. The work of
cutting it, and bringing it to the ships, in the rough
Campeachy country, where there were no roads, was
very hard. The logwood cutters were, therefore, men of
muscle, fond of violent work. Nearly all of them in
Dampier's time were buccaneers who had lost their old
trade. They were "sturdy, strong Fellows," able to carry
"Burthens of three or four hundred Weight," and "contented
to labour very hard." Their hands and arms
were always dyed a fine scarlet with the continuous
rubbing of the wood, and their clothes always smelt
of the little yellow logwood flowers, which smell very
sweet and strong, at most seasons of the year. The life
lived by the lumbermen was wild, rough, and merry.
They had each of them a tent, or a strongly thatched
hut, to live in, and most of them had an Indian woman
or a negress to cook their food. Some of them had white
wives, which they bought at Jamaica for about thirty
pounds apiece, or five pounds more than the cost of a
black woman. As a rule, they lived close to the lips of
the creeks, "for the benefit of the Sea-Breezes," in little
villages of twenty or thirty together. They slept in
hammocks, or in Indian cots, raised some three or four
feet from the ground, to allow for any sudden flood which
the heavy rains might raise. They cooked their food
on a sort of barbecue strewn with earth. For chairs they
used logs of wood or stout rails supported on crutches.
On the Saturday in each week they left their saws and
axes and tramped out into the woods to kill beef for
the following week. In the wet seasons, when the
savannahs were flooded, they hunted the cattle in canoas
by rowing near to the higher grass-lands where the beasts<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_223" id="Page_223">[223]</a></span>
were at graze. Sometimes a wounded steer would charge
the canoa, and spill the huntsmen in the water, where the
alligators nipped them. In the dry months, the hunters
went on foot. When they killed a steer they cut the
body into four, flung away the bones, and cut a big hole
in each quarter. Each of the four men of the hunting
party then thrust his head through the hole in one of
the quarters, and put "it on like a Frock," and so trudged
home. If the sun were hot, and the beef heavy, the
wearer cut some off, and flung it away. This weekly
hunting was "a Diversion pleasant enough" after the five
days' hacking at the red wood near the lagoon-banks.
The meat, when brought to camp, was boucanned or
jerked&mdash;that is, dried crisp in the sun. A quarter of a
steer a man was the week's meat allowance. If a man
wanted fish or game, in addition, he had to obtain it for
himself. This diet was supplemented by the local fruits,
and by stores purchased from the ships&mdash;such as dried
pease, or flour to make doughboys.</p>

<p>Men who worked hard under a tropical sun, in woods
sometimes flooded to a depth of two feet, could hardly
be expected to take a pride in their personal appearance.
One little vanity they had, and apparently one only&mdash;they
were fond of perfumes. They used to kill the
alligator for his musk-sacs, which they thought "as good
civet as any in the world." Each logwood cutter carried
a musk-sac in his hat to diffuse scent about him, "sweet
as Arabian winds when fruits are ripe," wheresoever his
business led him.</p>

<p>The logwood cutters usually formed into little companies
of from four to twelve men each. The actual
"cutters" had less to do than the other members, for
they merely felled the trees. Others sawed and hacked
the tree trunks into logs. The boss, or chief man in the
gang, then chipped away the white sappy rind surround<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_224" id="Page_224">[224]</a></span>ing
the scarlet heart with its crystals of brilliant red.
If the tree were very big (and some were six feet round)
they split the bole by gunpowder. The red hearts alone
were exported, as it is the scarlet crystal (which dries to
a dull black after cutting) which gives the wood its value
in dyeing. When the timber had been properly cut and
trimmed it was dragged to the water's edge, and stacked
there ready for the merchants. The chips burnt very
well, "making a clear strong fire, and very lasting," in
which the rovers used to harden "the Steels of their
Fire Arms when they were faulty."</p>

<p>When a ship arrived at One Bush Key the logwood
cutters went aboard her for rum and sugar. It was the
custom for the ship's captain to give them free drinks on
the day of his arrival, "and every Man will pay honestly
for what he drinks afterwards." If the captain did not
set the rum punch flowing with sufficient liberality they
would "pay him with their worst Wood," and "commonly"
they "had a stock of such" ready for the niggard when he
came. Often, indeed, they would give such a one a load
of hollow logs "filled with dirt in the middle, and both
ends plugg'd up with a piece of the same." But if the
captain commanding were "true steel, an old bold blade,
one of the old buccaneers, a hearty brave toss-pot, a trump,
a true twopenny"&mdash;why, then, they would spend thirty or
forty pounds apiece in a drinking bout aboard his ship,
"carousing and firing of Guns three or four days together."
They were a careless company, concerned rather in "the
squandering of life away" than in its preservation. Drink
and song, and the firing of guns, and a week's work chipping
blood-wood, and then another drunkenness, was the
story of their life there. Any "sober men" who came
thither were soon "debauched" by "the old Standards,"
and took to "Wickedness" and "careless Rioting." Those
who found the work too hard used to go hunting in the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_225" id="Page_225">[225]</a></span>
woods. Often enough they marched to the woods in
companies, to sack the Indian villages, to bring away
women for their solace, and men slaves to sell at Jamaica.
They also robbed the Indians' huts of honey, cocoa, and
maize, but then the Indians were "very melancholy and
thoughtful" and plainly designed by God as game for
logwood cutters.</p>

<p>In the end the Spaniards fell upon the logwood men
and carried them away to Mexico and Vera Cruz, sending
some to the silver mines, and selling the others to tradesmen.
As slaves they passed the next few years, till they
escaped to the coast. One of those who escaped told how
he saw a Captain Buckenham, once a famous man at those
old drinking bouts, and owner of a sugar ship, working
as a slave in the city of Mexico. "He saw Captain Buckenham,
with a Log chained to his Leg, and a Basket
at his Back, crying Bread about the Streets for a Baker
his Master."</p>

<p>In this society of logwood cutters Dampier served a
brief apprenticeship. He must have heard many strange
tales, and jolly songs, around the camp fires of his mates,
but none of them, apparently, were fit to print. He went
hunting cattle, and got himself "bushed," or marooned&mdash;that
is, lost&mdash;and had a narrow escape from dying in the
woods. He helped at the cutting and trimming of the
red wood, and at the curing of the hides of the slaughtered
steers. When ships arrived he took his sup of rum, and
fired his pistol, with the best of them. Had he stayed
there any length of time he would have become a master
logwood merchant, and so "gotten an Estate"; but luck
was against him.</p>

<p>In June 1676, when he was recovering from a guinea-worm,
a creature which nests in one's ankle, and causes
great torment, a storm, or "South," reduced the logwood
cutters of those parts to misery. The South was "long<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_226" id="Page_226">[226]</a></span>
foretold," by the coming in of many sea-birds to the
shore's shelter, but the lumbermen "believed it was a
certain Token of the Arrival of Ships," and took no precautions
against tempest. Two days later the wind broke
upon them furiously, scattering their huts like scraps of
paper. The creek began to rise "faster than I ever saw
it do in the greatest Spring Tide," so that, by noon, the
poor wretches, huddled as they were in a hut, without fire,
were fain to make ready a canoa to save themselves from
drowning. The trees in the woods were torn up by the
roots, "and tumbled down strangely across each other."
The ships in the creek were blown from their anchors.
Two of them were driven off to sea, dipping their bows
clean under, and making shocking weather of it. One of
them was lost in the bay, being whelmed by a green sea.</p>

<p>The storm destroyed all the tools and provisions of the
lumbermen, and left Dampier destitute. His illness, with
the poisonous worm in his leg, had kept him from work for
some weeks, so that he had no cords of red wood ready cut,
"as the old Standards had," to buy him new tools and
new stores. Many of the men were in the same case, so
they agreed with the captains of two pirate ketches which
called at the creek at that time, to go a cruise to the west
to seek their fortunes. They cruised up and down the
bay "and made many Descents into the country," "where
we got Indian Corn to eat with the Beef, and other Flesh,
that we got by the way." They also attacked Alvarado, a
little, protected city on the river of that name, but they
lost heavily in the attack. Of the sixty pirates engaged,
ten or eleven were killed or desperately wounded. The
fort was not surrendered for four or five hours, by which
time the citizens had put their treasure into boats, and
rowed it upstream to safety. It was dark by the time
the pirates won the fort, so that pursuit was out of the
question. They rested there that night, and spent the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_227" id="Page_227">[227]</a></span>
next day foraging. They killed and salted a number of
beeves, and routed out much salt fish and Indian corn, "as
much as we could stow away." They also took a number
of poultry, which the Spaniards were fattening in coops;
and nearly a hundred tame parrots, "yellow and red,"
which "would prate very prettily." In short they heaped
their decks with hen-coops, parrot-cages, quarters of beef,
casks of salt fish, and baskets full of maize. In this state,
the ships lay at anchor, with their men loafing on deck
with their tobacco, bidding the "yellow and red" parrots
to say "Damn," or "Pretty Polly," or other ribaldry. But
before any parrot could have lost his Spanish accent, the
pirates were called from their lessons by the sight of seven
Spanish warships, under all sail, coming up to the river-bar
from La Vera Cruz. Their ports were up, and their guns
were run out, and they were not a mile away when the
pirates first saw them. As it happened, the River Alvarado
was full of water, so that these great vessels "could scarce
stem the current." This piece of luck saved the pirates,
for it gave them time to make sail, and to clear the bar
before the Spaniards entered the river. As they dropped
down the stream, they hove the clutter from the decks.
Many a Pretty Polly there quenched her blasphemy in
water, and many a lump of beef went to the mud to gorge
the alligators. The litter was all overboard, and the men
stripped to fight the guns, by the time the tide had swept
them over the bar. At this moment they came within
range of the Spanish flagship, the <i>Toro</i>, of ten guns and
100 men. She was to windward of them, and perilously
close aboard, and her guns sent some cannon-balls into
them, without doing any serious harm. Dampier was in
the leading ship, which stood to the eastward, followed by
her consort, as soon as she was over the bar. After her
came the <i>Toro</i>, followed by a ship of four guns, and by five
smaller vessels manned with musketeers, "and the Vessels<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_228" id="Page_228">[228]</a></span>
barricadoed round with Bull-hides Breast high." The <i>Toro</i>
ranged up on the quarter of Dampier's ship, "designing to
board" her. The pirates dragged their cannon aft, and
fired at her repeatedly, "in hopes to have lamed either
Mast or Yard." As they failed to carry away her spars,
they waited till "she was shearing aboard," when they
rammed the helm hard up, "gave her a good Volley," and
wore ship. As soon as she was round on the other tack,
she stood to the westward, passing down the Spanish line
under a heavy fire. The <i>Toro</i> held to her course, after the
second pirate ship, with the six ships of the fleet following
in her wake. The second pirate ship was much galled
by the fleet's fire, and ran great risk of being taken.
Dampier's ship held to the westward, till she was about
a mile to windward of the other ships. She then tacked,
and ran down to assist her consort, "who was hard put to
it." As she ran down, she opened fire on the <i>Toro</i>, "who
fell off, and shook her ears," edging in to the shore, to
escape, with her fleet after her. They made no fight of it,
but tacked and hauled to the wind "and stood away for
Alvarado." The pirates were very glad to see the last of
them; "and we, glad of the Deliverance, went away to the
Eastward." On the way, they visited all the sandy bays
of the coast to look for "munjack," "a sort of Pitch or
Bitumen which we find in Lumps." When corrected with
oil or tallow this natural pitch served very well for the
paying of the seams "both of Ships and Canoas."</p>

<p>After this adventure, Dampier returned to the lumber
camp, and passed about a year there, cutting wood. Then,
for some reason, he determined to leave the Indies, and to
visit England; and though he had planned to return to
Campeachy, after he had been home, he never did so. It
seems that he was afraid of living in that undefended
place, among those drunken mates of his. They were at
all times at the mercy of a Spanish man-of-war, and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_229" id="Page_229">[229]</a></span>
Dampier "always feared" that a Spanish prison would be
his lot if he stayed there. It was the lot of his imprudent
mates, "the old Standards," a few months after he had
sailed for the Thames.</p>

<p>After a short stay in England, Dampier sailed for
Jamaica, with a general cargo. He sold his goods at Port
Royal, but did not follow his original plan of buying rum
and sugar, and going west as a logwood merchant. About
Christmas 1679 he bought a small estate in Dorsetshire,
"of one whose Title to it" he was "well assured of." He
was ready to sail for England, to take charge of this estate,
and to settle down as a farmer, when he met "one Mr
Hobby," at a tavern, who asked him to go "a short
trading voyage to the Country of the Moskito's." Dampier,
who was a little short of gold at the moment, was very
willing to fill his purse before sailing north. He therefore
consented to go with Mr Hobby, whose ship was then
ready for the sea. He "went on board Mr Hobby," and a
fair wind blew them clear of Port Royal. A day or two
of easy sailing brought them to Negril Bay, "at the West
End of Jamaica," where Dampier had anchored before,
when the valorous captain drained the punch-bowl. The
bay was full of shipping, for Captains Coxon, Sawkins,
Sharp, and other buccaneers, were lying there filling their
water casks. They had the red wheft flying, for they
were bound on the account, to raid the Main. The boats
alongside them were full of meat and barrels. Mr
Hobby's men did not wait to learn more than the fact
that the ships were going cruising. They dumped their
chests into the dinghy, and rowed aboard of them, and
'listed themselves among the sunburnt ruffians who were
hoisting out the water breakers. Dampier and Mr Hobby
were left alone on their ship, within hearing of the
buccaneers, who sang, and danced to the fiddle, and clinked
the cannikin, till the moon had set. For three or four<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_230" id="Page_230">[230]</a></span>
days they stayed there, hearing the merriment of the
rovers, but at the end of the fourth day Dampier wearied
of Mr Hobby, and joined the buccaneers, who were glad to
have him.</p>

<p>A day or two after Christmas 1679 they got their
anchors and set sail. They shaped their course for Porto
Bello, which had recovered something of its old wealth and
beauty, in the years of peace it had enjoyed since Morgan
sacked it. They landed 200 men to the eastward of
the town, "at such a distance" that the march "occupied
them three nights." During the day they lay in ambush
in the woods. As they "came to the town" a negro saw
them, and ran to set the bells ringing, to call out the
troops. The buccaneers followed him so closely that
the town was theirs before the troops could muster. They
stayed there forty-eight hours gathering plunder, and then
marched back to their ships staggering under a great weight
of gold. They shared thirty or forty pounds a man from
this raid. Afterwards they harried the coast, east and
west, and made many rich captures. Sawkins, it seems,
was particularly lucky, for he made a haul of 1000 chests
of indigo. Warrants were out for all these pirates, and
had they been taken they would most surely have been
hanged.</p>

<p>After these adventures, the squadron made for "a place
called Boco del Toro," "an opening between two islands
between Chagres and Veragua," where "the general
rendezvous of the fleet" had been arranged. The ships
anchored here, with one or two new-comers, including a
French ship commanded by a Captain Bournano, who
had been raiding on the isthmus, "near the South Sea,"
but a few days before. At the council aboard Captain
Sawkins' ship, it was given out, to all the assembled
buccaneers, that the Spaniards had made peace with the
Darien Indians. This was bad news; but Captain<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_231" id="Page_231">[231]</a></span>
Bournano was able to assure the company "that since
the conclusion of the said peace, they had been already
tried, and found very faithful"; for they had been of
service to him in his late foray. He added that they had
offered to guide him "to a great and very rich place
called Tocamora," and that he had promised to come to
them "with more ships and men," in three months' time.
The buccaneers thought that Tocamora, apart from the
beauty of the name, appeared to promise gold, so they
decided to go thither as soon as they had careened and
refitted. Boca del Toro, the anchorage in which they lay,
was full of "green tortoise" for ships short of food. There
were handy creeks, among the islands, for the ships to
careen in, when their hulls were foul. The pirates hauled
their ships into the creeks, and there hove them down,
while their Moskito allies speared the tortoise, and the
manatee, along the coast, and afterwards salted the flesh
for sea-provision.</p>

<p>As soon as the squadron was ready, they mustered at
Water Key, and set sail for Golden Island, where they
meant to hold a final council. On the way to the eastward
they put in at the Samballoes, or islands of San
Blas, to fill fresh water, and to buy fruit from the Indians.
When the anchors held, the Indians came aboard with
fruit, venison, and native cloth, to exchange for edged iron
tools, and red and green beads. They were tall men,
smeared with black paint (the women used red, much as
in Europe), and each Indian's nose was hung with a plate
of gold or silver. Among the women were a few albinos,
who were said to see better in the dark than in the light.
"These Indians misliked our design for Tocamora,"
because the way thither was mountainous and barren and
certain to be uninhabited. A force going thither would
be sure to starve on the road, they said, but it would be an
easy matter to march to Panama, as Drake had marched.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_232" id="Page_232">[232]</a></span>
New Panama was already a rich city, so that they would
not "fail of making a good voyage by going thither."
This advice of the Indians impressed the buccaneers.
They determined to abandon the Tocamora project as too
dangerous. Most of them were in favour of going to sack
Panama. But Captain Bournano, and Captain Row, who
commanded about a hundred Frenchmen between them,
refused to take their men on "a long march by land."
Perhaps they remembered how Morgan had treated the
French buccaneers after his Panama raid, nine years before.
They therefore remained at anchor when the squadron
parted company. An Indian chief, Captain Andreas,
came aboard the English flagship. The bloody colours
were hoisted, and a gun fired in farewell. The English
ships then loosed their top-sails and stood away for Golden
Island, to an anchorage they knew of, where a final muster
could be held. They dropped anchor there, "being in all
seven sail," on 3rd April 1680.</p>

<p>Their strength at the Samballoes had been as follows:&mdash;</p>


<div class='center'>
<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary="ships at the Samballoes">
<tr><td></td><td></td><td class="center">Tons</td><td class="center">Guns</td><td class="center">Men</td></tr>
<tr><td align='left' colspan="2">Captain Coxon in a ship of</td><td class="right">80</td><td class="right">8</td><td class="right">97</td></tr>
<tr><td>Captain Harris</td><td>"</td><td class="right">150</td><td class="right">25</td><td class="right">107</td></tr>
<tr><td>Captain Sawkins</td><td>"</td><td class="right">16</td><td class="right">1</td><td class="right">35</td></tr>
<tr><td>Captain Sharp</td><td>"</td><td class="right">25</td><td class="right">2</td><td class="right">40</td></tr>
<tr><td>Captain Cook</td><td>"</td><td class="right">35</td><td class="right">0</td><td class="right">43</td></tr>
<tr><td>Captain Alleston</td><td>"</td><td class="right">18</td><td class="right">0</td><td class="right">24</td></tr>
<tr><td>Captain Macket</td><td>"</td><td class="right">14</td><td class="right">0</td><td class="right">20</td></tr>
</table></div>

<p>but of these 366 buccaneers a few had remained behind
with the Frenchmen.</p>

<p>While they lay at Golden Island, the Indians brought
them word of "a town called Santa Maria," on the Rio
Santa Maria, near the Gulf of San Miguel, on the Pacific
coast. It was a garrison town, with four companies of
musketeers in its fort, for there were gold mines in the hills
behind it. The gold caravans went from it, once a month<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_233" id="Page_233">[233]</a></span>
in the dry seasons, to Panama. If the place failed to yield
them a booty, the buccaneers were determined to attack
new Panama. Had they done so they would probably
have destroyed the place, for though the new city was
something stronger than the old, the garrison was in the
interior fighting the Indians. The design on Santa Maria
was popular. On the matter being put to the vote it was
carried without protest. The buccaneers passed the 4th of
April in arranging details, and picking a party to protect
the ships during their absence. They arranged that
Captains Alleston and Macket, with about twenty-five or
thirty seamen, should remain in the anchorage as a ship's
guard. The remainder of the buccaneers, numbering 331
able-bodied men (seven of whom were French), were to
march with the colours the next morning.</p>

<p>On the 5th of April 1680, these 331 adventurers dropped
across the channel from Golden Island, and landed on the
isthmus, somewhere near Drake's old anchorage. Captain
Bartholomew Sharp, of "the dangerous voyage and bold
assaults," came first, with some Indian guides, one of whom
helped the Captain, who was sick and faint with a fever.
This vanguard "had a red flag, with a bunch of white and
green ribbons." The second company, or main battle, was
led by the admiral, Richard Sawkins, who "had a red
flag striped with yellow." The third and fourth companies,
which were under one captain (Captain Peter
Harris), had two green flags. The fifth and sixth companies,
under Captain John Coxon, "had each of them a
red flag." A few of Alleston's and Macket's men carried
arms under Coxon in these companies. The rear-guard
was led by Captain Edmund Cook, "with red colours
striped with yellow, with a hand and sword for his device."
"All or most" of the men who landed, "were armed with
a French fuzee" (or musket), a pistol and hanger, with two
pounds of powder and "proportionable bullet." Each of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_234" id="Page_234">[234]</a></span>
them carried a scrip or satchel containing "three or four
cakes of bread," or doughboys, weighing half-a-pound
apiece, with some modicum of turtle flesh. "For drink
the rivers afforded enough."</p>

<p>Among the men who went ashore in that company were
William Dampier, the author of the best books of voyages
in the language; Lionel Wafer, the chirurgeon of the
party, who wrote a description of the isthmus; Mr Basil
Ringrose, who kept an intimate record of the foray; and
Captain Bartholomew Sharp, who also kept a journal, but
whose writings are less reliable than those of the other
three. It is not often that three historians of such supreme
merit as Dampier, Wafer, and Ringrose, are associated in
a collaboration so charming, as a piratical raid. Wafer
had been a surgeon in Port Royal, but Edmund Cook had
shown him the delights of roving, and the cruise he had
made to Cartagena had confirmed him in that way of life.
Basil Ringrose had but lately arrived at the Indies, and it
is not known what induced him to go buccaneering. He
was a good cartographer, and had as strong a bent towards
the description of natural phenomena, as Dampier had.
He probably followed the pirates in order to see the world,
and to get some money, and to extend his knowledge.
Sharp had been a pirate for some years, and there was a
warrant out for him at Jamaica for his share in the sack
of Porto Bello. With Dampier's history the reader has
been made acquainted.</p>

<p>The Indians, under Captain Andreas, led the buccaneers
from the landing-place "through a small skirt of wood,"
beyond which was a league of sandy beach. "After that,
we went two leagues directly up a woody valley, where we
saw here and there an old plantation, and had a very good
path to march in." By dusk they had arrived at a river-bank,
beneath which the water lay in pools, joined by
trickles and little runlets, which babbled over sun-bleached<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_235" id="Page_235">[235]</a></span>
pebbles. They built themselves huts in this place, about
a great Indian hut which stood upon the river-bank. They
slept there that night, "having nothing but the cold Earth
for their Beds," in much discouragement "with the going
back of some of the Men." The buccaneers who had been
some weeks at sea, were not in marching trim, and it
seems that the long day's tramp in the sun had sickened
many of them. While they rested in their lodges, an
Indian king, whom they called "Captain Antonio," came
in to see them. He said that he had sent word to one of
his tributaries, farther to the south, to prepare food and
lodgings for the buccaneers "against their Arrival." As
for himself, he wished very much that he could come with
them to lead their guides, but unfortunately "his child lay
very sick." However, it comforted him to think that the
child would be dead by the next day, at latest, "and then
he would most certainly follow and overtake" them. He
warned the company not to lie in the grass, "for fear of
monstrous adders"; and so bowed himself out of camp,
and returned home. The kingly prayers seem to have
been effectual, for Captain Antonio was in camp again by
sunrise next morning, with no family tie to keep him from
marching.</p>

<p>As the men sluiced themselves in the river before taking
to the road, they noticed that the pebbles shone "with
sparks of gold" when broken across. They did not stay
to wash the river-mud, for gold dust and golden pellets,
but fell in for the march, and climbed from dawn till
nearly dusk. They went over "a steep Mountain" which
was parched and burnt and waterless. Four of the
buccaneers refused to go farther than the foot of this hill,
so they returned to the ships. The others, under the
guidance of Antonio, contrived to cross the mountain "to
an Hollow of Water," at which they drank very greedily.
Six miles farther on they halted for the night, beside a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_236" id="Page_236">[236]</a></span>
stream. They slept there, "under the Canopy of Heaven,"
suffering much discomfort from some drenching showers.
After some days of climbing, wading, and suffering, the army
reached the house of King Golden Cap, an Indian king.
The King came out to meet them in his robes, with a
little reed crown on his head, lined with red silk, and
covered with a thin plate of gold. He had a golden ring
in his nose, and a white cotton frock over his shoulders.
His queen wore a red blanket, and a blouse "like our old-fashioned
striped hangings." This royal couple bade the
army welcome, and ordered food to be brought for them.
The buccaneers passed a couple of days in King Golden
Cap's city, trading their coloured beads, and scraps of iron,
for fresh fruit and meat. They found the Indians "very
cunning" in bargaining, which means, we suppose, that
they thought a twopenny whittle a poor return for a hog
or a sack of maize.</p>

<p>When the men had rested themselves, and had dried
their muddy clothes, they set out again, with Captain
Sawkins in the vanguard. As they marched out of the
town "the King ordered us each man to have three
plantains, with sugar-canes to suck, by way of a present."
They breakfasted on these fruits, as they marched. The
road led them "along a very bad Path" continually intersected
by a river, which they had to wade some fifty or
sixty times, to their great misery. They passed a few
Indian huts on the way, and at each hut door stood an
Indian to give "as we passed by, to every one of us, a
ripe plantain, or some sweet cassava-root." Some of the
Indians counted the army "by dropping a grain of corn
for each man that passed before them," for without
counters they could not reckon beyond twenty. The
army had by this time been swelled by an Indian contingent,
of about 150 men, "armed with Bows, Arrows and
Lances." The Indians dropping their corn grains must<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_237" id="Page_237">[237]</a></span>
have dropped nearly 500 before the last man passed them.
That night, which was clear and fine, they rested in three
large Indian huts, where King Golden Cap's men had
stored up food and drink, and a number of canoas, for the
voyage south. The river went brawling past their bivouac
at a little distance, and some of the men caught fish, and
broiled them in the coals for their suppers.</p>

<p>At daylight next morning, while they were getting the
canoas to the water, Captain Coxon had "some Words"
with Captain Harris (of the green flags). The words ran
into oaths, for the two men were surly with the discomforts
of turning out. Coxon whipped up a gun and fired
at Peter Harris, "which he was [naturally] ready to
return." Sharp knocked his gun up before he could fire,
"and brought him to be quiet; so that we proceeded on
our Journey." They had no further opportunities for
fighting, for Sawkins gave the word a moment later for
seventy of the buccaneers to embark in the canoas. There
were fourteen of these boats, all of them of small size.
Sharp, Coxon, and Cook were placed in charge of them.
Captain Harris was told off to travel with the land party,
with Sawkins, King Golden Cap, and the other men.
Don Andreas, with twenty-eight other Indians (two to a
canoa) acted as boatmen, or pilots, to the flotilla.</p>

<p>Basil Ringrose, who was one of the boat party, has told
us of the miseries of the "glide down the stream." The
river was low, and full of rotting tree trunks, so that "at
the distance of almost every stone's cast," they had to
leave the boats "and haul them over either sands or rocks,
and at other times over trees." Sharp, who was of tougher
fibre, merely says that they "paddled all Day down the
Falls and Currents of the River, and at Night took up our
Quarters upon a Green Bank by the Riverside, where we
had Wild Fowl and Plantanes for Supper: But our Beds
were made upon the cold Earth, and our Coverings were<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_238" id="Page_238">[238]</a></span>
the Heavens, and green Trees we found there." The next
day they went downstream again, over many more snags
and shallows, which set them wading in the mud till their
boots rotted off their feet. Ringrose was too tired to
make a note in his journal, save that, that night, "a tiger"
came out and looked at them as they sat round the camp
fires. Sharp says that the labour "was a Pleasure," because
"of that great Unity there was then amongst us,"
and because the men were eager "to see the fair South
Sea." They lodged that night "upon a green Bank of
the River," and ate "a good sort of a Wild Beast like
unto our English Hog." The third day, according to
Ringrose, was the worst day of all. The river was as full
of snags as it had been higher up, but the last reach of it
was clear water, so that they gained the rendezvous "about
Four in the Afternoon." To their very great alarm they
found that the land party had not arrived. They at once
suspected that the Indians had set upon them treacherously,
and cut them off in the woods. But Don Andreas
sent out scouts "in Search of them," who returned "about
an Hour before Sun-set," with "some of their Number,"
and a message that the rest would join company in the
morning.</p>

<p>A little after daybreak the land force marched in, and
pitched their huts near the river, "at a beachy point of
land," perhaps the very one where Oxenham's pinnace
had been beached. They passed the whole day there
resting, and cleaning weapons, for they were now but "a
Day and a Night's Journey" from the town they had
planned to attack. Many more Indians joined them at
this last camp of theirs, so that the army had little
difficulty in obtaining enough canoas to carry them to
Santa Maria. They set out early the next morning, in
sixty-eight canoas, being in all "327 of us Englishmen,
and 50 Indians." Until that day the canoas had been<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_239" id="Page_239">[239]</a></span>
"poled" as a punt is poled, but now they cut oars and
paddles "to make what speed we could." All that day
they rowed, and late into the night, rowing "with all haste
imaginable," and snapping up one or two passing Indian
boats which were laden with plantains. It was after midnight,
and about "Two Hours before Day Light," when
they ran into a mud bank, about a mile from the town,
and stepped ashore, upon a causeway of oars and paddles.
They had to cut themselves a path through jungle, as soon
as they had crossed the mud, for the town was walled
about with tropical forest. They "lay still in the Woods,
till the Light appeared," when they "heard the Spaniard
discharge his Watch at his Fort by Beat of Drum, and a
Volley of Shot." It was the Spanish way of changing
guard, at daybreak. It was also the signal for the "Forlorn"
of the buccaneers to march to the battle, under
Sawkins. This company consisted of seventy buccaneers.
As they debouched from the forest, upon open ground, the
Spaniards caught sight of them and beat to arms. The
men in the fort at once opened fire "very briskly," but
the advance-guard ran in upon them, tore down some of
the stockade, and "entered the fort incontinently." A
moment or two of wild firing passed inside the palisades,
and then the Spanish colours were dowsed. The buccaneers
in this storm lost two men wounded, of the fifty
who attacked. The Spanish loss was twenty-six killed,
and sixteen wounded, out of 300 under arms. About
fifty more, of the Spanish prisoners, were promptly killed
by the Indians, who took them into the woods and stabbed
them "to death" with their lances. It seems that one
of that garrison, a man named Josef Gabriele, had raped
King Golden Cap's daughter who was then with child
by him. (Gabriele, as it chanced, was not speared, but
saved to pilot the pirates to Panama.) This was the sole
action of the Indians in that engagement. During the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_240" id="Page_240">[240]</a></span>
battle they lay "in a small hollow," "in great consternation"
at "the noise of the guns."</p>

<p>Though the buccaneers had taken the place easily, they
had little cause for rejoicing. The town was "a little
pitiful Place," with a few thatched huts, or "wild houses
made of Cane," and "but one Church in it." The fort
"was only Stockadoes," designed merely as a frontier
post "to keep in subjection the Indians" or as a lodging
for men employed in the gold mines. There was no more
provision in store there than would serve their turn for
a week. As for the gold, they had missed it by three
days. Three hundredweight of gold had been sent to
Panama while they were struggling downstream. News
of their coming had been brought to the fort in time,
and "all their treasure of gold," "that huge booty of gold"
they had expected to win, had been shipped westward.
Nor had they any prisoners to hold to ransom. The
Governor, the town priest, and the chief citizens, had slipped
out of the town in boats, and were now some miles away.
Richard Sawkins manned a canoa, and went in chase of
them, but they got clear off, to give advice to Panama
that pirates were come across the isthmus. The only
pillage they could find, after torturing their prisoners
"severely," amounted to "twenty pounds' weight of gold,
and a small quantity of silver." To this may be added a
few personal belongings, such as weapons or trinkets, from
the chests of the garrison.</p>

<p>When the booty, such as it was, had been gathered, the
captains held a meeting "to discuss what were best to
be done." Some were for going to the South Sea, to
cruise; but John Coxon, who had taken Porto Bello, and
hated to be second to Sawkins, was for going back to the
ships. The general vote was for going to Panama, "that
city being the receptacle of all the plate, jewels, and gold
that is dug out of the mines of all Potosi and Peru."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_241" id="Page_241">[241]</a></span>
However, they could not venture on Panama without
Coxon, and Coxon's company; so they made Coxon their
admiral, "Coxon seeming to be well satisfied." Before
starting, they sent their booty back to Golden Island, under
a guard of twelve men. Most of the Indians fell off at this
time, for they had "got from us what knives, scissors, axes,
needles and beads they could." Old King Golden Cap,
and his son, were less mercenary, and stayed with the
colours, being "resolved to go to Panama, out of the desire
they had to see that place taken and sacked." They may
have followed the buccaneers in order to kill the Spaniard
who had raped the princess, for that worthy was still alive,
under guard. He had promised to lead the pirates "even
to the very bed-chamber door of the governor of Panama."</p>

<p>With the vision of this bed-chamber door before them,
the pirates embarked at Santa Maria "in thirty-five
canoes" and a ship they had found at anchor in the
river. As they "sailed, or rather rowed" downstream,
with the ebb, the Spanish prisoners prayed to be taken
aboard, lest the Indians should take them and torture
them all to death. "We had much ado to find a sufficient
number of boats for ourselves," says Ringrose, for the
Indians had carried many of the canoas away. Yet the
terror of their situation so wrought upon the Spaniards
that they climbed on to logs, or crude rafts, or into old
canoas, "and by that means shifted so ... as to come
along with us." The island Chepillo, off the mouth of
the Cheapo River, had been named as the general rendezvous,
but most of the buccaneers were to spend several
miserable days before they anchored there. One canoa
containing ten Frenchmen, was capsized, to the great
peril of the Frenchmen, who lost all their weapons.
Ringrose was separated from the company, drenched to
the skin, half starved, and very nearly lynched by some
Spaniards. His 19th of April was sufficiently stirring<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_242" id="Page_242">[242]</a></span>
to have tired him of going a-roving till his death. He
put out "wet and cold," at dawn; was shipwrecked at
ten; saved the lives of five Spaniards at noon; "took
a survey," or drew a sketch of the coast, an hour later;
set sail again by four, was taken by the Spaniards and
condemned to death at nine; was pardoned at ten; sent
away "in God's name," "vaya ustad con Dios," at eleven;
and was at sea again "wet and cold," by midnight.
Sharp's party was the most fortunate, for as they entered
the bay of Panama they came to an island "a very
pleasant green Place," off which a barque of thirty tons
came to anchor, "not long before it was dark." The
island had a high hummock of land upon it with a
little hut, and a stack for a bonfire, at the top. A watchman,
an old man, lived in this hut, looking out over the
sea for pirates, with orders to fire his beacon, to warn
the men on the Main if a strange sail appeared. The
pirates caught this watchman before the fire was lit.
They learned from him that those at Panama had not
yet heard of their coming. Shortly after they had
captured the watchman, the little barque aforesaid, came
to anchor, and furled her sails. Two of Sharp's canoas
crept out, "under the shore," and laid her aboard "just
as it began to be duskish." She proved to be a Panama
boat, in use as a troop transport. She had just landed
some soldiers on the Main, to quell some Indians, who
had been raiding on the frontier. Her crew were negroes,
Indians, and mulattoes. Most of the buccaneers, especially
those in the small canoas, "endeavoured to get into"
this ship, to stretch their legs, and to have the advantage
of a shelter. More than 130 contrived to stow themselves
in her 'tween decks, under "that sea-artist, and
valiant commander" (the words are probably his own)
"Captain Bartholomew Sharp." They put to sea in her
the next day, followed by the canoas. During the morn<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_243" id="Page_243">[243]</a></span>ing
they took another small barque, in which Captain Harris
placed thirty men, and hoisted the green flag. The wind
fell calm after the skirmish, but the canoas rowed on to
Chepillo, to the rendezvous, where they found provisions
such as "two fat hogs," and some plantains, and a spring
of water.</p>

<p>A little after dawn, on the day following, while the ships
were trying to make the anchorage, Captain Coxon, and
Captain Sawkins, rowed out from Chepillo to board a
barque which was going past the island under a press of
sail. The wind was so light that the canoas overhauled
her, but before they could hook to her chains "a young
breeze, freshening at that instant," swept her clear of
danger. Her men fired a volley into Coxon's boat,
which the pirates returned. "They had for their Breakfast
a small fight," says Sharp. One of the pirates&mdash;a
Mr Bull&mdash;was killed with an iron slug. The Spaniards
got clear away without any loss, "for the Wind blew
both fresh and fair" for them. Three or four pirates
were grazed with shot, and some bullets went through
the canoas. The worst of the matter was that the
Spaniards got safely to Panama, "to give intelligence
of our coming."</p>

<p>As they could no longer hope to take the city by surprise,
"while the Governor was in his bed-chamber," they
determined to give the citizens as little time for preparation
as was possible. They were still twenty miles from
Panama, but the canoas could pass those twenty miles
in a few hours' easy rowing. They set out at four o'clock
in the evening, after they had delivered their Spanish
prisoners "for certain reasons" (which Ringrose "could
not dive into") into the hands of the Indians. This act
of barbarity was accompanied with the order that the
Indians were "to fight, or rather to murder and slay
the said prisoners upon the shore, and that in view of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_244" id="Page_244">[244]</a></span>
the whole fleet." However, the Spaniards rushed the
Indians, broke through them, and got away to the woods
with the loss of but one soldier.</p>

<p>After they had watched the scuffle, the pirates rowed
away merrily towards Panama, "though many showers
of rain ceased not to fall." Sharp's vessel, with her
crew of more than 130 men, made off for the Pearl
Islands, ostensibly to fill fresh water, but really, no
doubt, to rob the pearl fisheries. He found a woman
(who was "very young and handsome"), and "a Case
or two of Wines," at these islands, together with some
poultry. He made a feast there, and stayed at anchor
that night, and did not set sail again till noon of the
day following, by which time the battle of Panama had
been fought and won.</p>

<div class="blockquot"><p><i>Authorities.</i>&mdash;Dampier's Voyages. Wafer's Voyages. Ringrose's
Journal. "The Dangerous Voyage and Bold Assaults of Captain Bartholomew
Sharp"; "The Voyages and Adventures of Captain Bartholomew
Sharp" (four or five different editions). Ringrose's MSS., Sharp's MSS.,
in the Sloane MSS.</p></div>



<hr class="chapter" />
<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_245" id="Page_245">[245]</a></span></p>
<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XIV" id="CHAPTER_XIV"></a>CHAPTER XIV</h2>

<h3>THE BATTLE OF PERICO</h3>

<div class="blockquot"><p>Arica&mdash;The South Sea cruise</p></div>


<p>On 23rd April 1680, "that day being dedicated to St
George, our Patron of England," the canoas arrived
off Panama. "We came," says Ringrose, "before sunrise
within view of the city of Panama, which makes a pleasant
show to the vessels that are at sea." They were within
sight of the old cathedral church, "the beautiful building
whereof" made a landmark for them, reminding one of
the buccaneers "of St Paul's in London," a church at that
time little more than a ruin. The new city was not quite
finished, but the walls of it were built, and there were
several splendid churches, with scaffolding about
<ins class="correction" title="Transcriber's Note: , not visible in original">them,</ins>
rising high, here and there, over the roofs of the
<ins class="correction" title="Transcriber's Note: . not visible in original">houses.</ins>
The townspeople were in a state of panic at the news
of the pirates' coming. Many of them had fled into the
savannahs; for it chanced that, at that time, many of
the troops in garrison, were up the country, at war with
a tribe of Indians. The best of the citizens, under Don
Jacinto de Baronha, the admiral of those seas, had
manned the ships in the bay. Old Don Peralta, who
had saved the golden galleon ten years before, had 'listed
a number of negroes, and manned one or two barques with
them. With the troops still in barracks, and these
volunteers and pressed men, they had manned, in all
"five great ships, and three pretty big barks." Their
force may have numbered 280 men. One account gives
the number, definitely, as 228. The buccaneer force<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_246" id="Page_246">[246]</a></span>
has been variously stated, but it appears certain that
the canoas, and periaguas, which took part in the fight,
contained only sixty-eight of their company. Sharp, as
we have seen, had gone with his company to the Pearl Islands.
The remaining 117 men were probably becalmed,
in their barques and canoas, some miles from the vanguard.</p>

<p>When the buccaneers caught sight of Panama, they
were probably between that city and the islands of
Perico and Tobagilla. They were in great disorder, and
the men were utterly weary with the long night of rowing
in the rain, with the wind ahead. They were strung out
over several miles of sea, with five light canoas, containing
six or seven men apiece, a mile or two in advance.
After these came two lumbering periaguas, with sixteen
men in each. King Golden Cap was in one of these
latter. Dampier and Wafer were probably not engaged
in this action. Ringrose was in the vanguard, in a small
canoa.</p>

<p>A few minutes after they had sighted the roofs of
Panama, they made out the ships at anchor off the Isle
of Perico. There were "five great ships and three pretty
big barks," manned, as we have said, by soldiers, negroes,
and citizens. The men aboard this fleet were in the rigging
of their ships, keeping a strict lookout. As they
caught sight of the pirates the three barques "instantly
weighed anchor," and bore down to engage, under all
the sail they could crowd. The great ships had not
sufficient men to fight their guns. They remained at
anchor; but their crews went aboard the barques, so that
the decks of the three men-of-war must have been inconveniently
crowded. The Spaniards were dead to
<ins class="correction" title="Transcriber's Note: so in original; typo for windward?">windwind</ins>
of the pirates, so that they merely squared their
yards, and ran down the wind "designedly to show their
valour." They had intended to run down the canoas,
and to sail over them, for their captains had orders to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_247" id="Page_247">[247]</a></span>
give no quarter to the pirates, but to kill them, every
man. "Such bloody commands as these," adds Ringrose
piously, "do seldom or never prosper."</p>

<p>It was now a little after sunrise. The wind was light
but steady; the sea calm. As the Spaniards drew within
range, the pirates rowed up into the wind's eye, and got
to windward of them. Their pistols and muskets had
not been wetted in the rain, for each buccaneer had provided
himself with an oiled cover for his firearms, the
mouth of which he stopped with wax whenever it rained.
The Spanish ships ran past the three leading canoas, exchanging
volleys at long range. They were formed in line
of battle ahead, with a ship manned by mulattoes, or
"Tawnymores," in the van. This ship ran between the
fourth canoa, in which Ringrose was, and the fifth (to
leeward of her) commanded by Sawkins. As she ran
between the boats she fired two thundering broadsides,
one from each battery, which wounded five buccaneers.
"But he paid dear for his passage"; because the buccaneers
gave her a volley which killed half her sail
trimmers, so that she was long in wearing round to
repeat her fire. At this moment the two periaguas came
into action, and got to windward with the rest of the
pirates' fleet.</p>

<p>While Ringrose's company were ramming the bullets
down their gun muzzles, the Spanish admiral (in the
second ship) engaged, "scarce giving us time to charge."
She was a fleet ship, and had a good way on her, and her
design was to pass between two canoas, and give to each
a roaring hot broadside. As she ran down, so near that
the buccaneers could look right into her, one of the pirates
fired his musket at her helmsman, and shot him through
the heart as he steered. The ship at once "broached-to,"
and lay with her sails flat aback, stopped dead. The five
canoas, and one of the periaguas, got under her stern, and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_248" id="Page_248">[248]</a></span>
so plied her with shot that her decks were like shambles,
running with blood and brains, five minutes after she came
to the wind. Meanwhile Richard Sawkins ran his canoa&mdash;which
was a mere sieve of cedar wood, owing to the broadside&mdash;alongside
the second periagua, and took her steering
oar. He ordered his men to give way heartily, for the
third Spanish ship, under old Don Peralta, was now bearing
down to relieve the admiral. Before she got near
enough to blow the canoas out of water, Captain Sawkins
ran her on board, and so swept her decks with shot that
she went no farther. But "between him and Captain
Sawkins, the dispute, or fight, was very hot, lying board
on board together, and both giving and receiving death
unto each other as fast as they could charge." Indeed,
the fight, at this juncture, was extremely fierce. The two
Spanish ships in action were surrounded with smoke and
fire, the men "giving and receiving death" most gallantly.
The third ship, with her sail trimmers dead, was to leeward,
trying to get upon the other tack.</p>

<p>After a time her sailors got her round, and reached to
windward, to help the admiral, who was now being sorely
battered. Ringrose, and Captain Springer, a famous
pirate, "stood off to meet him," in two canoas, as "he
made up directly towards the Admiral." Don Jacinto,
they noticed, as they shoved off from his flagship, was
standing on his quarter-deck, waving "with a handkerchief,"
to the captain of the Tawnymores' ship. He was
signalling him to scatter the canoas astern of the flagship.
It was a dangerous moment, and Ringrose plainly saw
"how hard it would go with us if we should be beaten
from the Admiral's stern." With the two canoas he ran
down to engage, pouring in such fearful volleys of bullets
that they covered the Spaniard's decks with corpses and
dying men. "We killed so many of them, that the vessel
had scarce men enough left alive, or unwounded, to carry<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_249" id="Page_249">[249]</a></span>
her off. Had he not given us the helm, and made away
from us, we had certainly been on board him." Her decks
were littered with corpses, and she was literally running
blood. The wind was now blowing fresh, and she contrived
to put before it, and so ran out of action, a terrible
sight for the Panama women.</p>

<p>Having thus put the Tawnymores out of action, Ringrose
and Springer hauled to the wind, and "came about
again upon the Admiral, and all together gave a loud
halloo." The cheer was answered by Sawkins' men, from
the periagua, as they fired into the frigate's ports. Ringrose
ran alongside the admiral, and crept "so close"
under the vessel's stern, "that we wedged up the rudder."
The admiral was shot, and killed, a moment later, as he
brought aft a few musketeers to fire out of the stern ports.
The ship's pilot, or sailing master, was killed by the same
volley. As for the crew, the "stout Biscayners," "they
were almost quite disabled and disheartened likewise,
seeing what a bloody massacre we had made among
them with our shot." Two-thirds of the crew were killed,
"and many others wounded." The survivors cried out for
quarter, which had been offered to them several times
before, "and as stoutly denied until then." Captain
Coxon thereupon swarmed up her sides, with a gang of
pirates, helping up after him the valorous Peter Harris
"who had been shot through both his legs, as he boldly
adventured up along the side of the ship." The Biscayners
were driven from their guns, disarmed, and thrust down
on to the ballast, under a guard. All the wounded pirates
were helped up to the deck and made comfortable. Then,
in all haste, the unhurt men manned two canoas, and
rowed off to help Captain Sawkins, "who now had been
three times beaten from on board by Peralta."</p>

<p>A very obstinate and bloody fight had been raging
round the third man-of-war. Her sides were splintered<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_250" id="Page_250">[250]</a></span>
with musket-balls. She was oozing blood from her
scuppers, yet "the old and stout Spaniard" in command,
was cheerily giving shot for shot. "Indeed, to give our
enemies their due, no men in the world did ever act more
bravely than these Spaniards."</p>

<p>Ringrose's canoa was the first to second Captain
Sawkins. She ran close in, "under Peralta's side," and
poured in a blasting full volley through her after gun-ports.
A scrap of blazing wad fell among the red-clay
powder jars in the after magazine. Before she could fire
a shot in answer, she blew up abaft. Ringrose from the
canoa "saw his men blown up, that were abaft the mast,
some of them falling on the deck, and others into the sea."
But even this disaster did not daunt old Peralta. Like a
gallant sea-captain, he slung a bowline round his waist, and
went over the side, burnt as he was, to pick up the men
who had been blown overboard. The pirates fired at him
in the water, but the bullets missed him. He regained
his ship, and the fight went on. While the old man was
cheering the wounded to their guns, "another jar of
powder took fire forward," blowing the gun's crews
which were on the fo'c's'le into the sea. The forward
half of the ship caught fire, and poured forth a volume
of black smoke, in the midst of which Richard Sawkins
boarded, and "took the ship." A few minutes later, Basil
Ringrose went on board, to give what aid he could to the
hurt. "And indeed," he says, "such a miserable sight I
never saw in my life, for not one man there was found,
but was either killed, desperately wounded, or horribly
burnt with powder, insomuch that their black skins [the
ship was manned with negroes] were turned white in
several places, the powder having torn it from their flesh
and bones." But if Peralta's ship was a charnel-house,
the admiral's flagship was a reeking slaughter-pen. Of
her eighty-six sailors, sixty-one had been killed. Of the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_251" id="Page_251">[251]</a></span>
remaining twenty-five, "only eight were able to bear
arms, all the rest being desperately wounded, and by their
wounds totally disabled to make any resistance, or defend
themselves. Their blood ran down the decks in whole
streams, and scarce one place in the ship was found that
was free from blood." The loss on the Tawnymores' ship
was never known, but there had been such "bloody
massacre" aboard her, that two other barques, in Panama
Roads, had been too scared to join battle, though they
had got under sail to engage. According to Ringrose,
the pirates lost eighteen men killed, and twenty-two men
wounded, several of them severely. Sharp, who was not
in the fight, gives the numbers as eleven killed, and thirty-four
wounded. The battle began "about half an hour
after sunrise." The last of the Spanish fire ceased a little
before noon.</p>

<p>Having taken the men-of-war, Captain Sawkins asked
his prisoners how many men were aboard the galleons, in
the Perico anchorage. Don Peralta, who was on deck,
"much burnt in both his hands," and "sadly scalded," at
once replied that "in the biggest alone there were three
hundred and fifty men," while the others were manned in
proportion to their tonnage. But one of his men "who
lay a-dying upon the deck, contradicted him as he was
speaking, and told Captain Sawkins there was not one
man on board any of those ships that were in view."
"This relation" was believed, "as proceeding from a
dying man," and a few moments later it was proved to
be true. The greatest of the galleons, "the Most Blessed
<i>Trinity</i>," perhaps the very ship in which Peralta had saved
the treasures of the cathedral church, was found to be
empty. Her lading of "wine, sugar, and sweetmeats,
skins and soap" (or hides and tallow) was still in the hold,
but the Spaniards had deserted her, after they had set her
on fire, "made a hole in her, and loosened [perhaps cut<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_252" id="Page_252">[252]</a></span>
adrift] her foresail." The pirates quenched the fire,
stopped the leak, and placed their wounded men aboard
her, "and thus constituted her for the time being our
hospital." They lay at anchor, at Perico, for the rest
of that day. On the 24th of April they seem to have
been joined by a large company of those who had been
to leeward at the time of the battle. Reinforced by these,
to the strength of nearly 200 men, they weighed their
anchors, set two of the prize galleons on fire with their
freights of flour and iron, and removed their fleet to the
roads of Panama. They anchored near the city, just
out of heavy gunshot, in plain view of the citizens. They
could see the famous stone walls, which had cost so much
gold that the Spanish King, in his palace at Madrid, had
asked his minister whether they could be seen from the
palace windows. They marked the stately, great churches
which were building. They saw the tower of St Anastasius
in the distance, white and stately, like a blossom above
the greenwood. They may even have seen the terrified
people in the streets, following the banners of the church,
and the priests in their black robes, to celebrate a solemn
Mass and invocation. Very far away, in the green savannahs,
they saw the herds of cattle straying between the
clumps of trees.</p>

<p>Late that night, long after it was dark, Captain Bartholomew
Sharp joined company. He had been to
Chepillo to look for them, and had found their fire "not
yet out," and a few dead Spaniards, whom the Indians
had killed, lying about the embers. He had been much
concerned for the safety of the expedition, and was therefore
very pleased to find that "through the Divine Assistance"
the buccaneers had triumphed. At supper that
night he talked with Don Peralta, who told him of some
comets, "two strange Comets," which had perplexed the
Quito merchants the year before. There was "good<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_253" id="Page_253">[253]</a></span>
Store of Wine" aboard the <i>Trinity</i> galleon, with which
all hands "cheered up their Hearts for a While." Then,
having set sentinels, they turned in for the night.</p>

<p>The next day they buried Captain Peter Harris, "a
brave and stout Soldier, and a valiant Englishman, born
in the county of Kent, whose death [from gunshot wounds]
we very much lamented." With him they buried another
buccaneer who had been hurt in the fight. The other
wounded men recovered. They would probably have
landed to sack the town on this day, had not a quarrel
broken out between some of the company and Captain
Coxon. The question had been brought forward, whether
the buccaneers should go cruising in the South Sea, in
their prizes, or return, overland, to their ships at Golden
Island. It was probably suggested, as another alternative,
that they should land to sack the town. All the captains
with one exception were for staying in the Pacific "to try
their Fortunes." Captain Coxon, however, was for returning
to Golden Island. He had been dissatisfied ever since
the fight at Santa Maria. He had not distinguished himself
particularly in the fight off Perico, and no doubt he
felt jealous that the honours of that battle should have
been won by Sawkins. Sawkins' men taunted him with
"backwardness" in that engagement, and "stickled not to
defame, or brand him with the note of cowardice." To
this he answered that he would be very glad to leave that
association, and that he would take one of the prizes, a
ship of fifty tons, and a periagua, to carry his men up the
Santa Maria River. Those who stayed, he added, might
heal his wounded. That night he drew off his company,
with several other men, in all about seventy hands. With
them he carried "the best of our Doctors and Medicines,"
and the hearty ill will of the other buccaneers. Old King
Golden Cap accompanied these deserters, leaving behind
him his son and a nephew, desiring them to be "not less<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_254" id="Page_254">[254]</a></span>
vigorous" than he had been in harrying the Spanish.
Just before Coxon set sail, he asked Bartholomew Sharp
to accompany him. But that proven soul "could not hear
of so dirty and inhuman an Action without detestation."
So Coxon sailed without ally, "which will not much
redound to his Honour," leaving all his wounded on the
deck of the captured galleon. The fleet, it may be added,
had by this time returned to the anchorage at Perico.</p>

<p>They lay there ten days in all, "debating what were
best to be done." In that time they took a frigate laden
with fowls. They took the poultry for their own use, and
dismissed some of "the meanest of the prisoners" in the
empty ship. They then shifted their anchorage to the
island of Taboga, where there were a few houses, which
some drunken pirates set on fire. While they lay at this
island the merchants of Panama came off to them "and
sold us what commodities we needed, buying also of us
much of the goods we had taken in their own vessels."
The pirates also sold them a number of negroes they had
captured, receiving "two hundred pieces of eight for each
negro we could spare." "And here we took likewise
several barks that were laden with fowls." After Coxon's
defection, Richard Sawkins was re-elected admiral, and
continued in that command till his death some days later.</p>

<p>Before they left Taboga, Captain Sharp went cruising
to an island some miles distant to pick up some straggling
drunkards who belonged to his ship. While he lay at
anchor, in a dead calm, waiting for a breeze to blow, a
great Spanish merchant ship hove in sight, bound from
Lima (or Truxillo) to Panama. Sharp ran his canoas
alongside, and bade her dowse her colours, at the same
time sending a gang of pirates over her rail, to throw the
crew under hatches. "He had no Arms to defend himself
with, save only Rapiers," so her captain made no battle,
but struck incontinently. She proved to be a very splendid<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_255" id="Page_255">[255]</a></span>
prize, for in her hold were nearly 2000 jars of wine and
brandy, 100 jars of good vinegar, and a quantity of powder
and shot, "which came very luckily." In addition to these
goods there were 51,000 pieces of eight, "247 pieces of
eight a man," a pile of silver sent to pay the Panama
soldiery; and a store of sweetmeats, such as Peru is still
famous for. And there were "other Things," says Sharp,
"that were very grateful to our dis-satisfied Minds."
Some of the wine and brandy were sold to the Panama
merchants a few days later, "to the value of three thousand
Pieces of Eight." A day or two after this they snapped up
two flour ships, from Paita. One of these was a pretty
ship of a fine model, of about 100 tons. Sharp fitted her
for himself, "for I liked her very well." The other flour
ship was taken very gallantly, under a furious gunfire
from Panama Castle. The buccaneers rowed in, with
the cannon-balls flying over their heads. They got
close alongside "under her Guns," and then towed her
out of cannon-shot.</p>

<p>They continued several days at Taboga, waiting for a
Lima treasure ship, aboard which, the Spaniards told
them, were &pound;2500 in silver dollars. While they waited
for this ship the Governor at Panama wrote to ask them
why they had come into those seas. Captain Sawkins
answered that they had come to help King Golden Cap,
the King of Darien, the true lord of those lands, and
that, since they had come so far, "there was no reason
but that they should have some satisfaction." If the
Governor would send them 500 pieces of eight for each
man, and double that sum for each captain, and, further,
undertake "not any farther to annoy the Indians," why,
then, the pirates would leave those seas, "and go away
peaceably. If the Governor would not agree to these
terms, he might look to suffer." A day or two later,
Sawkins heard that the Bishop of Panama had been<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_256" id="Page_256">[256]</a></span>
Bishop at Santa Martha (a little city on the Main), some
years before, when he (Sawkins) helped to sack the place.
He remembered the cleric favourably, and sent him "two
loaves of sugar," as a sort of keepsake, or love-offering.
"For a retaliation," the Bishop sent him a gold ring;
which was very Christian in the Bishop, who must have
lost on the exchange. The bearer of the gold ring, brought
also an answer from the Governor, who desired to know
who had signed the pirates' commissions. To this message
Captain Sawkins sent back for answer: "That as yet all
his company were not come together, but that when they
were come up, we would come and visit him at Panama,
and bring our commissions on the muzzles of our guns,
at which time he should read them as plain as the flame
of gunpowder could make them."</p>

<p>With this thrasonical challenge the pirates set sail for
Otoque, another of the islands in the bay; for Taboga,
though it was "an exceeding pleasant island," was by
this time bare of meat. Before they left the place a
Frenchman deserted from them, and gave a detailed
account of their plans to the Spanish Governor. It blew
very hard while they were at sea, and two barques parted
company in the storm. One of them drove away to the
eastward, and overtook John Coxon's company. The
other was taken by the Spaniards.</p>

<p>About the 20th or 21st of May, after several days
of coasting, the ships dropped anchor on the north coast
of the island of Quibo. From here some sixty men,
under Captain Sawkins, set sail in Edmund Cook's ship,
to attack Pueblo Nuevo, the New Town, situated on the
banks of a river. At the river's mouth, which was broad,
with sandy beaches, they embarked in canoas, and rowed
upstream, under the pilotage of a negro, from dark till
dawn. The French deserter had told the Spaniards of
the intended attack, so that the canoas found great<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_257" id="Page_257">[257]</a></span>
difficulty in getting upstream. Trees had been felled so
as to fall across the river, and Indian spies had been
placed here and there along the river-bank to warn the
townsmen of the approach of the boats. A mile below
the town the river had been made impassable, so here
the pirates went ashore to wait till daybreak. When it
grew light they marched forward, to attack the strong
wooden breastworks which the Spaniards had built.
Captain Sawkins was in advance, with about a dozen
pirates. Captain Sharp followed at a little distance with
some thirty more. As soon as Sawkins saw the stockades
he fired his gun, and ran forward gallantly, to take
the place by storm, in the face of a fierce fire. "Being a
man that nothing upon Earth could terrifie" he actually
reached the breastwork, and was shot dead there, as he
hacked at the pales. Two other pirates were killed at
his side, and five of the brave forlorn were badly hurt.
"The remainder drew off, still skirmishing," and contrived
to reach the canoas "in pretty good order," though they
were followed by Spanish sharpshooters for some distance.
Sharp took command of the boats and brought them off
safely to the river's mouth, where they took a barque full
of maize, before they arrived at their ship.</p>

<p>Sawkins was "as valiant and courageous as any could
be," "a valiant and generous-spirited man, and beloved
above any other we ever had among us, which he well
deserved." His death left the company without a captain,
and many of the buccaneers, who had truly loved Richard
Sawkins, were averse to serving under another commander.
They were particularly averse to serving under Sharp,
who took the chief command from the moment of Sawkins'
death. At Quibo, where they lay at anchor, "their
Mutiny" grew very high, nor did they stick at mere
mutiny. They clamoured for a tarpaulin muster, or "full
Councel," at which the question of "who should be chief"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_258" id="Page_258">[258]</a></span>
might be put to the vote. At the council, Sharp was
elected "by a few hands," but many of the pirates refused
to follow him on the cruise. He swore, indeed, that he
would take them such a voyage as should bring them
&pound;1000 a man; but the oaths of Sharp were not good
security, and the mutiny was not abated. Many of the
buccaneers would have gone home with Coxon had it
not been for Sawkins. These now clamoured to go so
vehemently that Sharp was constrained to give them a
ship with as much provision "as would serve for treble
the number." The mutineers who left on this occasion
were in number sixty-three. Twelve Indians, the last
who remained among the pirates, went with them, to
guide them over the isthmus. 146 men remained with
Sharp. It is probable that many of these would have
returned at this time, had it not been that "the Rains were
now already up, and it would be hard passing so many
Gullies, which of necessity would then be full of water."
Ringrose, Wafer and Dampier remained among the
faithful, but rather on this account, than for any love
they bore their leader. The mutineers had hardly set
sail, before Captain Cook came "a-Board" Sharp's flagship,
finding "himselfe a-grieved." His company had kicked
him out of his ship, swearing that they would not sail
with such a one, so that he had determined "to rule
over such unruly folk no longer." Sharp gave his command
to a pirate named Cox, a New Englander, "who
forced kindred, as was thought, upon Captain Sharp, out
of old acquaintance, in this conjuncture of time, only to
advance himself." Cox took with him Don Peralta, the
stout old Andalusian, for the pirates were plying the
captain "of the Money-Ship we took," to induce him to
pilot them to Guayaquil "where we might lay down our
Silver, and lade our vessels with Gold." They feared that
an honest man, such as Peralta, "would hinder the en<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_259" id="Page_259">[259]</a></span>deavours"
of this Captain Juan, and corrupt his kindly
disposition.</p>

<p>With these mutinies, quarrels, intrigues, and cabals did
the buccaneers beguile their time. They stayed at Quibo
until 6th June, filling their water casks, quarrelling, cutting
wood, and eating turtle and red deer. They also ate
huge oysters, so large "that we were forced to cut them
into four pieces, each quarter being a large mouthful."</p>

<p>On the 6th of June they set sail for the isle of Gorgona,
off what is now Columbia, where they careened the <i>Trinity</i>,
and took "down our Round House Coach and all the high
carved work belonging to the stern of the ship; for when
we took her from the Spaniards she was high as any
Third Rate Ship in England." While they were at work
upon her, Sharp changed his design of going for Guayaquil,
as one of their prisoners, an old Moor, "who had long
time sailed among the Spaniards," told him that there
was gold at Arica, in such plenty that they would get
there "&pound;2000 a man." He did not hurry to leave his
careenage, though he must have known that each day
he stayed there lessened his chance of booty. It was
nearly August when he left Gorgona, and "from this
Time forward to the 17th of October there was Nothing
occurr'd but bare Sailing." Now and then they ran short
of water, or of food. One or two of their men died of
fever, or of rum, or of sunstroke. Two or three were
killed in capturing a small Spanish ship. The only other
events recorded, are the falls of rain, the direction of the
wind, the sight of "watersnakes of divers colours," and
the joyful meeting with Captain Cox, whom they had lost
sight of, while close in shore one evening. They called
at "Sir Francis Drake's isle" to strike a few tortoises,
and to shoot some goats. Captain Sharp we read, here
"showed himself very ingenious" in spearing turtle, "he
performing it as well as the tortoise strikers themselves."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_260" id="Page_260">[260]</a></span></p>

<p>It was very hot at this little island. Many years before
Drake had gone ashore there to make a dividend, and had
emptied bowls of gold coins into the hats of his men,
after the capture of the <i>Cacafuego</i>. Some of the pirates
sounded the little anchorage with a greasy lead, in the
hopes of bringing up the golden pieces which Drake had
been unable to carry home, and had hove into the sea
there. They got no gold, but the sun shone "so hot that
it burnt the skin off the necks of our men," as they craned
over the rail at their fishery.</p>

<p>At the end of October they landed at the town of Hilo
to fill fresh water. They took the town, and sacked its
sugar refineries, which they burnt. They pillaged its
pleasant orange groves, and carried away many sacks of
limes and green figs "with many other fruits agreeable to
the palate." Fruit, sugar, and excellent olive oil were
the goods which Hilo yielded. They tried to force the
Spaniards to bring them beef, but as the beef did not
come, they wrecked the oil and sugar works, and set them
blazing, and so marched down to their ships, skirmishing
with the Spanish horse as they fell back. Among the
spoil was the carcass of a mule (which made "a very good
meal"), and a box of chocolate "so that now we had
each morning a dish of that pleasant liquor," such as the
grand English ladies drank.</p>

<p>The next town attacked was La Serena, a town five
miles from the present Coquimbo. They took the town,
and found a little silver, but the citizens had had time
to hide their gold. The pirates made a great feast of
strawberries "as big as walnuts," in the "orchards of
fruit" at this place, so that one of their company wrote
that "'tis very delightful Living here." They could not
get a ransom for the town, so they set it on fire. The
Spaniards, in revenge, sent out an Indian, on an inflated
horse hide, to the pirates' ship the <i>Trinity</i>. This Indian<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_261" id="Page_261">[261]</a></span>
thrust some oakum and brimstone between the rudder
and the sternpost, and "fired it with a match." The
sternpost caught fire and sent up a prodigious black
smoke, which warned the pirates that their ship was
ablaze. They did not discover the trick for a few minutes,
but by good fortune they found it out in time to save
the vessel. They landed their prisoners shortly after
the fire had been quenched "because we feared lest by
the example of this stratagem they should plot our
destruction in earnest." Old Don Peralta, who had lately
been "very frantic," "through too much hardship and
melancholy," was there set on shore, after his long captivity.
Don Juan, the captain of the "Money-Ship," was
landed with him. Perhaps the two fought together, on
the point of honour, as soon as they had returned to
swords and civilisation.</p>

<p>From Coquimbo the pirates sailed for Juan Fernandez.
On the way thither they buried William Cammock, one
of their men, who had drunk too hard at La Serena
"which produced in him a calenture or malignant fever,
and a hiccough." "In the evening when the pale Magellan
Clouds were showing we buried him in the sea, according
to the usual custom of mariners, giving him three French
vollies for his funeral."</p>

<p>On Christmas Day they were beating up to moorings,
with boats ahead, sounding out a channel for the ship.
They did not neglect to keep the day holy, for "we gave
in the morning early three vollies of shot for solemnization
of that great festival." At dusk they anchored "in a
stately bay that we found there," a bay of intensely blue
water, through which the whiskered seals swam. The
pirates filled fresh water, and killed a number of goats,
with which the island swarmed. They also captured
many goats alive, and tethered them about the decks of
the <i>Trinity</i>, to the annoyance of all hands, a day or two<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_262" id="Page_262">[262]</a></span>
later, when some flurries of wind drove them to sea, to
search out a new anchorage.</p>

<p>Shortly after New Year's Day 1681, "our unhappy
Divisions, which had been long on Foot, began now to
come to an Head to some Purpose." The men had been
working at the caulking of their ship, with design to take
her through the Straits of Magellan, and so home to the
Indies. Many of the men wished to cruise the South
Seas a little longer, while nearly all were averse to plying
caulking irons, under a burning sun, for several hours a
day. There was also a good deal of bitterness against
Captain Sharp, who had made but a poor successor to
brave Richard Sawkins. He had brought them none of the
gold and silver he had promised them, and few of the
men were "satisfied, either with his Courage or Behaviour."
On the 6th January a gang of pirates "got privately
ashoar together," and held a fo'c's'le council under the
greenwood. They "held a Consult," says Sharp, "about
turning me presently out, and put another in my Room."
John Cox, the "true-hearted dissembling New-England
Man," whom Sharp "meerly for old Acquaintance-sake"
had promoted to be captain, was "the Main Promoter
of their Design." When the consult was over, the
pirates came on board, clapped Mr Sharp in irons,
put him down on the ballast, and voted an old
pirate named John Watling, "a stout seaman," to
be captain in his stead. One buccaneer says that
"the true occasion of the grudge against Sharp was,
that he had got by these adventures almost a thousand
pounds, whereas many of our men were not worth a groat,"
having "lost all their money to their fellow Buccaneers
at dice."</p>

<p>Captain Edmund Cook, who had been turned out of
his ship by his men, was this day put in irons on the
confession of a shameless servant. The curious will find<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_263" id="Page_263">[263]</a></span>
the details of the case on page 121, of the 1684 edition
of Ringrose's journal.</p>

<p>John Watling began his captaincy in very godly sort,
by ordering his disciples to keep holy the Sabbath day.
Sunday, "January the ninth, was the first Sunday that
ever we kept by command and common consent, since
the loss and death of our valiant Commander Captain
Sawkins." Sawkins had been strict in religious matters,
and had once thrown the ship's dice overboard "finding
them in use on the said day." Since Sawkins' death
the company had grown notoriously lax, but it is pleasant
to notice how soon they returned to their natural piety,
under a godly leader. With Edmund Cook down on
the ballast in irons, and William Cook talking of salvation
in the galley, and old John Watling expounding the
Gospel in the cabin, the galleon, "the Most Holy <i>Trinity</i>"
must have seemed a foretaste of the New Jerusalem.
The fiddler ceased such "prophane strophes" as "Abel
Brown," "The Red-haired Man's Wife," and "Valentinian."
He tuned his devout strings to songs of Zion. Nay
the very boatswain could not pipe the cutter up but to
a phrase of the Psalms.</p>

<p>In this blessed state they washed their clothes in the
brooks, hunted goats across the island, and burnt and
tallowed their ship the <i>Trinity</i>. But on the 12th of
January, one of their boats, which had been along the
coast with some hunters, came rowing furiously into the
harbour, "firing of Guns." They had espied three Spanish
men-of-war some three or four miles to leeward, beating
up to the island under a press of sail. The pirates were
in great confusion, for most of them were ashore, "washing
their clothes," or felling timber. Those on board,
hove up one of their anchors, fired guns to call the rest
aboard, hoisted their boats in, and slipped their second
cable. They then stood to sea, hauling as close to the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_264" id="Page_264">[264]</a></span>
wind as she would lie. One of the Mosquito Indians, "one
William," was left behind on the island, "at this sudden
departure," and remained hidden there, living on fish and
fruit, for many weary days. He was not the first man
to be marooned there; nor was he to be the last.</p>

<p>The three Spanish men-of-war were ships of good size,
mounting some thirty guns among them. As the pirate
ship beat out of the harbour, sheeting home her topgallant-sails,
they "put out their bloody flags," which the
pirates imitated, "to shew them that we were not as yet
daunted." They kept too close together for the pirates
to run them aboard, but towards sunset their flagship had
drawn ahead of the squadron. The pirates at once tacked
about so as to engage her, intending to sweep her decks
with bullets, and carry her by boarding. John Watling
was not very willing to come to handystrokes, nor were
the Spaniards anxious to give him the opportunity. No
guns were fired, for the Spanish admiral wore ship, and
so sailed away to the island, when he brought his squadron
to anchor. The pirates called a council, and decided to
give them the slip, having "outbraved them," and done
as much as honour called for. They were not very
pleased with John Watling, and many were clamouring
for the cruise to end. It was decided that they should
not attack the Spanish ships, but go off for the Main,
to sack the town of Arica, where there was gold enough,
so they had heard, to buy them each "a coach and
horses." They therefore hauled to the wind again, and
stood to the east, in very angry and mutinous spirit,
until the 26th of January.</p>

<p>On that day they landed at Yqueque, a mud-flat, or
guano island, off a line of yellow sand-hills. They found
a few Indian huts there, with scaffolds for the drying
of fish, and many split and rotting mackerel waiting to
be carried inland. There was a dirty stone chapel in<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_265" id="Page_265">[265]</a></span>
the place, "stuck full of hides and sealskins." There was
a great surf, green and mighty, bursting about the island
with a continual roaring. There were pelicans fishing
there, and a few Indians curing fish, and an abominable
smell, and a boat, with a cask in her bows, which brought
fresh water thither from thirty miles to the north. The
teeth of the Indians were dyed a bright green by their
chewing of the coca leaf, the drug which made their
"beast-like" lives endurable. There was a silver mine
on the mainland, near this fishing village, but the pirates
did not land to plunder it. They merely took a few
old Indian men, and some Spaniards, and carried them
aboard the <i>Trinity</i>, where the godly John Watling examined
them.</p>

<p>The next day the examination continued; and the
answers of one of the old men, "a Mestizo Indian," were
judged to be false. "Finding him in many lies, as we
thought, concerning Arica, our commander ordered him
to be shot to death, which was accordingly done." This
cold-blooded murder was committed much against the
will of Captain Sharp, who "opposed it as much as he
could." Indeed, when he found that his protests were
useless, he took a basin of water (of which the ship was
in sore need) and washed his hands, like a modern Pilate.
"Gentlemen," he said, "I am clear of the blood of this
old man; and I will warrant you a hot day for this
piece of cruelty, whenever we come to fight at Arica."
This proved to be "a true and certain prophesy." Sharp
was an astrologer, and a believer in portents; but he
does not tell us whether he had "erected any Figure,"
to discover what was to chance in the Arica raid.</p>

<hr class="small" />

<p>Arica, the most northern port in Chile, has still a
considerable importance. It is a pleasant town, fairly
well watered, and therefore more green and cheerful than<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_266" id="Page_266">[266]</a></span>
the nitrate ports. It is built at the foot of a hill (a
famous battlefield) called the Morro. Low, yellow sand-hills
ring it in, shutting it from the vast blue crags of
the Andes, which rise up, splintered and snowy, to the
east. The air there is of an intense clearness, and those
who live there can see the Tacna churches, forty miles
away. It is no longer the port it was, but it does a
fair trade in salt and sulphur, and supplies the nitrate
towns with fruit. When the pirates landed there it was
a rich and prosperous city. It had a strong fort, mounting
twelve brass guns, defended by four companies of
troops from Lima. The city had a town guard of 300
soldiers. There was also an arsenal full of firearms for
the use of householders in the event of an attack. It
was not exactly a walled town, like new Panama, but
a light wooden palisade ran round it, while other palisades
crossed each street. These defences had been thrown up
when news had arrived of the pirates being in those seas.
All the "plate, gold and jewels" of the townsfolk had
been carefully hidden, and the place was in such a state
of military vigilance and readiness that the pirates had
no possible chance of taking it, or at least of holding
it. When the pirates came upon it there were several
ships in the bay, laden with commodities from the south
of Chile.</p>

<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;">
<a name="img317" id="img317"></a>
<a href="https://brian.carnell.com/wiki/_media/etext:j:john-masefield-on-the-spanish-main-317.jpg"><img src="https://brian.carnell.com/wiki/_media/etext:j:john-masefield-on-the-spanish-main-317_th.jpg" width="500" height="187"
alt="A description of Arica"
title="A description of Arica" /></a>
<span class="caption"><i>A description of</i> Arica</span>
</div>

<p>On the 28th of January, John Watling picked 100
men, and put off for the shore in boats and canoas, to
attack the town. By the next day they had got close
in shore, under the rocks by the San Vitor River's mouth.
There they lay concealed till the night. At dawn of the
30th January 1681, "the Martyrdom of our glorious
King Charles the First," they were dipping off some rocks
four miles to the south of Arica. Here ninety-two of
the buccaneers landed, leaving a small boat guard, with
strict instructions how to act. They were told that if<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_267" id="Page_267">[267]</a></span>
the main body "made one smoke from the town," as
by firing a heap of powder, one canoa was to put in to
Arica; but that, if two smokes were fired, all the boats
were to put in at once. Basil Ringrose was one of those
who landed to take part in the fight. Dampier, it is
almost certain, remained on board the <i>Trinity</i>, becalmed
some miles from the shore. Wafer was in the canoas,
with the boat guard, preparing salves for those wounded
in the fight. The day seems to have been hot and sunny&mdash;it
could scarcely have been otherwise&mdash;but those out
at sea, on the galleon, could see the streamers of cloud
wreathing about the Andes.</p>

<p>At sunrise the buccaneers got ashore, amongst the
rocks, and scrambled up a hill which gave them a sight
of the city. From the summit they could look right
down upon the streets, little more than a mile from them.
It was too early for folk to be stirring, and the streets
were deserted, save for the yellow pariahs, and one or
two carrion birds. It was so still, in that little town,
that the pirates thought they would surprise the place,
as Drake had surprised Nombre de Dios. But while
they were marching downhill, they saw three horsemen
watching them from a lookout place, and presently the
horsemen galloped off to raise the inhabitants. As
they galloped away, John Watling chose out forty of
the ninety-two, to attack the fort or castle which defended
the city. This band of forty, among whom were Sharp
and Ringrose, carried ten hand-grenades, in addition to
their pistols and guns. The fort was on a hill above the
town, and thither the storming party marched, while
Watling's company pressed on into the streets. The
action began a few minutes later with the guns of the
fort firing on the storming party. Down in the town,
almost at the same moment, the musketry opened in a
long roaring roll which never slackened. Ringrose's<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_268" id="Page_268">[268]</a></span>
party waited for no further signal, but at once engaged,
running in under the guns and hurling their firepots
through the embrasures. The grenades were damp, or
badly filled, or had been too long charged. They did
not burst or burn as they should have done, while the
garrison inside the fort kept up so hot a fire, at close
range, that nothing could be done there. The storming
party fell back, without loss, and rallied for a fresh attack.
They noticed then that Watling's men were getting no
farther towards the town. They were halted in line, with
their knees on the ground, firing on the breastworks, and
receiving a terrible fire from the Spaniards. Five of the
fifty-two men were down (three of them killed) and the
case was growing serious. The storming party left
the fort, and doubled downhill into the firing line, where
they poured in volley after blasting volley, killing a
Spaniard at each shot, making "a very desperate battle"
of it, "our rage increasing with our wounds." No troops
could stand such file-firing. The battle became "mere
bloody massacre," and the Spaniards were beaten from
their posts. Volley after volley shook them, for the
pirates "filled every street in the city with dead bodies";
and at last ran in upon them, and clubbed them and
cut them down, and penned them in as prisoners. But
as the Spaniards under arms were at least twenty times
as many as the pirates, there was no taking the city
from them. They were beaten from post to post fighting
like devils, but the pirates no sooner left a post they
had taken, "than they came another way, and manned
it again, with new forces and fresh men." The streets
were heaped with corpses, yet the Spaniards came on,
and came on again, till the sand of the roads was like
red mud. At last they were fairly beaten from the
chief parts of the town, and numbers of them were
penned up as prisoners; more, in fact, than the pirates<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_269" id="Page_269">[269]</a></span>
could guard. The battle paused for a while at this stage,
and the pirates took advantage of the lull to get their
wounded (perhaps a dozen men), into one of the churches
to have their wounds dressed. As the doctors of the
party began their work, John Watling sent a message
to the fort, charging the garrison to surrender. The
soldiers returned no answer, but continued to load their
guns, being helped by the armed townsfolk, who now
flocked to them in scores. The fort was full of musketeers
when the pirates made their second attack a little after
noon.</p>

<p>At the second attack, John Watling took 100 of his
prisoners, placed them in front of his storming party, and
forced them forward, as a screen to his men, when he
made his charge. The garrison shot down friend and
foe indiscriminately, and repulsed the attack, and repulsed
a second attack which followed a few minutes later.
There was no taking the fort by storm, and the pirates
had no great guns with which to batter it. They found,
however, that one of the flat-roofed houses in the town,
near the fort's outworks, commanded the interior. "We
got upon the top of the house," says Ringrose, "and from
there fired down into the fort, killing many of their men
and wounding them at our ease and pleasure." While
they were doing this, a number of the Lima soldiers joined
the citizens, and fell, with great fury, upon the prisoners'
guards in the town. They easily beat back the few
guards, and retook the city. As soon as they had taken
the town, they came swarming out to cut off the pirates
from their retreat, and to hem them in between the fort
and the sea. They were in such numbers that they were
able to surround the pirates, who now began to lose men
at every volley, and to look about them a little anxiously
as they bit their cartridges. From every street in the
town came Spanish musketeers at the double, swarm after<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_270" id="Page_270">[270]</a></span>
swarm of them, perhaps a couple of thousand. The
pirates left the fort, and turned to the main army, at the
same time edging away towards the south, to the hospital,
or church, where their wounded men were being dressed.
As they moved away from the battlefield, firing as they
retreated, old John Watling was shot in the liver with
a bullet, and fell dead there, to go buccaneering no more.
A moment later "both our quartermasters" fell, with
half-a-dozen others, including the boatswain. All this
time the cannon of the fort were pounding over them,
and the round-shot were striking the ground all about,
flinging the sand into their faces. What with the dust
and the heat and the trouble of helping the many hurt,
their condition was desperate. "So that now the enemy
rallying against us, and beating us from place to place,
we were in a very distracted condition, and in more likelihood
to perish every man than escape the bloodiness of
that day. Now we found the words of Captain Sharp
to bear a true prophecy, being all very sensible that we
had had a day too hot for us, after that cruel heat in
killing and murdering in cold blood the old Mestizo
Indian whom we had taken prisoner at Yqueque." In
fact they were beaten and broken, and the fear of death
was on them, and the Spaniards were ringing them round,
and the firing was roaring from every point. They were
a bloody, dusty, choking gang of desperates, "in great
disorder," black with powder, their tongues hanging out
with thirst. As they stood grouped together, cursing and
firing, some of them asked Captain Sharp to take command,
and get them out of that, seeing that Watling
was dead, and no one there could give an order. To
this request Sharp at last consented, and a retreat was
begun, under cover of a fighting rear-guard, "and I hope,"
says Sharp, "it will not be esteemed a Vanity in me to
say, that I was mighty Helpful to facilitate this Retreat."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_271" id="Page_271">[271]</a></span>
In the midst of a fearful racket of musketry, he fought
the pirates through the soldiers to the church where the
wounded lay. There was no time, nor was there any
conveyance, for the wounded, and they were left lying
there, all desperately hurt. The two surgeons could have
been saved "but that they had been drinking while we
assaulted the fort, and thus would not come with us
when they were called." There was no time for a second
call, for the Spaniards were closing in on them, and the
firing was as fierce as ever. The men were so faint with
hunger and thirst, the heat of battle, and the long day's
marching, that Sharp feared he would never get them
to the boats. A fierce rush of Spaniards beat them away
from the hospital, and drove them out of the town "into
the Savannas or open fields." The Spaniards gave a
cheer and charged in to end the battle, but the pirates
were a dogged lot, and not yet at the end of their strength.
They got into a clump or cluster, with a few wounded men
in the centre, to load the muskets, "resolving to die one
by another" rather than to run. They stood firm, cursing
and damning the Spaniards, telling them to come on, and
calling them a lot of cowards. There were not fifty buccaneers
fit to carry a musket, but the forty odd, unhurt
men stood steadily, and poured in such withering volleys
of shot, with such terrible precision, that the Spanish
charge went to pieces. As the charge broke, the pirates
plied them again, and made a "bloody massacre" of
them, so that they ran to shelter like so many frightened
rabbits. The forty-seven had beaten off twenty or thirty
times their number, and had won themselves a passage
home.</p>

<p>There was no question of trying to retake the town.
The men were in such misery that the march back to
the boats taxed their strength to the breaking point. They
set off over the savannah, in as good order as they could,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_272" id="Page_272">[272]</a></span>
with a wounded man, or two, in every rank of them. As
they set forward, a company of horsemen rode out, and
got upon their flanks "and fired at us all the way, though
they would not come within reach of our guns; for their
own reached farther than ours, and out-shot us more than
one third." There was great danger of these horsemen
cutting in, and destroying them, on the long open rolls
of savannah, so Sharp gave the word, and the force
shogged westward to the seashore, along which they
trudged to the boats. The beach to the south of Arica
runs along the coast, in a narrow strip, under cliffs and
rocky ground, for several miles. The sand is strewn with
boulders, so that the horsemen, though they followed the
pirates, could make no concerted charge upon them. Some
of them rode ahead of them and got above them on the
cliff tops, from which they rolled down "great stones and
whole rocks to destroy us." None of these stones did any
harm to the pirates, for the cliffs were so rough and broken
that the skipping boulders always flew wide of the mark.
But though the pirates "escaped their malice for that
time," they were yet to run a terrible danger before getting
clear away to sea. The Spaniards had been examining,
or torturing, the wounded pirates, and the two drunken
surgeons, left behind in the town. "These gave them
our signs that we had left to our boats [<i>i.e.</i> revealed the
signals by which the boats were to be called] so that
they immediately blew up two smokes, which were perceived
by the canoas." Had the pirates "not come at
the instant" to the seaside, within hail of the boats, they
would have been gone. Indeed they were already under
sail, and beating slowly up to the northward, in answer
to the signal. Thus, by a lucky chance, the whole company
escaped destruction. They lost no time in putting
from the shore, where they had met with "so very bad
Entertainment." They "got on board about ten a Clock<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_273" id="Page_273">[273]</a></span>
at night; having been involved in a continual and bloody
fight ... all that day long." Of the ninety-two, who had
landed that morning, twenty-eight had been left ashore,
either dead, or as prisoners. Of the sixty-four who got
to the canoas, eighteen were desperately wounded, and
barely able to walk. Most of the others were slightly
hurt, while all were too weary to do anything, save sleep
or drink. Of the men left behind in the hospital the
Spaniards spared the doctors only; "they being able to
do them good service in that country." "But as to the
wounded men," says Ringrose, "they were all knocked
on the head," and so ended their roving, and came to
port where drunken doctors could torture them no longer.
The Ylo men denied this; and said that the seven pirates
who did not die of their wounds were kept as slaves.
The Spanish loss is not known, but it was certainly
terrible. The Hilo, or Ylo people, some weeks later,
said that seventy Spaniards had been killed and about
200 wounded.</p>

<p>All the next day the pirates "plied to and fro in sight
of the port," hoping that the Spaniards would man the
ships in the bay, and come out to fight. They reinstated
Sharp in his command, for they had now "recollected a
better Temper," though none of them, it seems, wished
for any longer stay in the South Sea. The Arica fight
had sickened them of the South Sea, while several of
them (including Ringrose) became very ill from the exposure
and toil of the battle. They beat to windward,
cruising, when they found that the Spaniards would not
put to sea to fight them. They met with dirty weather
when they had reached the thirtieth parallel, and the foul
weather, and their bad fortune made them resolve to leave
those seas. At a
<ins class="correction" title="Transcriber's Note: original reads fo'c's'cle">fo'c's'le</ins>
council held on the 3rd of March,
they determined to put the helm up, and to return to
the North Sea. They were short of water and short<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_274" id="Page_274">[274]</a></span>
of food, "having only one cake of bread a day," or
perhaps half-a-pound of "doughboy," for their "whack"
or allowance. After a few days' running before the wind
they came to "the port of Guasco," now Huasco, between
Coquimbo and Caldera, a little town of sixty or eighty
houses, with copper smeltries, a church, a river, and some
sheep-runs. Sixty of the buccaneers went ashore here,
that same evening, to get provisions, "and anything else
that we could purchase." They passed the night in the
church, or "in a churchyard," and in the morning took
"120 sheep and fourscore goats," about 200 bushels of
corn "ready ground," some fowls, a fat hog, any quantity
of fruit, peas, beans, etc., and a small stock of wine.
These goods they conveyed aboard as being "fit for
our Turn." The inhabitants had removed their gold and
silver while the ship came to her anchor, "so that our
booty here, besides provisions, was inconsiderable." They
found the fat hog "very like our English pork," thereby
illustrating the futility of travel; and so sailed away
again "to seek greater matters." Before they left, they
contrived to fill their water jars in the river, a piece of
work which they found troublesome, owing to the height
of the banks.</p>

<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;">
<a name="img327" id="img327"></a>
<a href="https://brian.carnell.com/wiki/_media/etext:j:john-masefield-on-the-spanish-main-327.jpg"><img src="https://brian.carnell.com/wiki/_media/etext:j:john-masefield-on-the-spanish-main-327_th.jpg" width="500" height="274"
alt="A Description of Hilo"
title="A Description of Hilo" /></a>
<span class="caption"><i>A Description of</i> Hilo</span>
</div>

<p>From Huasco, where the famous white raisins grow,
they sailed to Ylo, where they heard of their mates at
Arica, and secured some wine, figs, sugar, and molasses,
and some "fruits just ripe and fit for eating," including
"extraordinary good Oranges of the China sort" They
then coasted slowly northward, till by Saturday, 16th
April, they arrived off the island of Plate. Here their
old bickerings broke out again, for many of the pirates
were disgusted with Sharp, and eager to go home. Many
of the others had recovered their spirits since the affair
at Arica, and wished to stay in the South Seas, to cruise
a little longer. Those who had fought at Arica would<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_275" id="Page_275">[275]</a></span>
not allow Sharp to be deposed a second time, while those
who had been shipkeepers on that occasion, were angry
that he should have been re-elected. The two parties
refused to be reconciled. They quarrelled angrily whenever
they came on deck together, and the party spirit ran
so high that the company of shipkeepers, the anti-Sharp
faction, "the abler and more experienced men," at last
refused to cruise any longer under Sharp's command. The
fo'c's'le council decided that a poll should be taken, and
"that which party soever, upon polling, should be found
to have the majority, should keep the ship." The other
party was to take the long boat and the canoas. The
division was made, and "Captain Sharp's Party carried
it." The night was spent in preparing the long boat and
the canoas, and the next morning the boats set sail.</p>



<hr class="chapter" />
<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_276" id="Page_276">[276]</a></span></p>
<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XV" id="CHAPTER_XV"></a>CHAPTER XV</h2>

<h3>ACROSS THE ISTHMUS</h3>

<div class="blockquot"><p>The way home&mdash;Sufferings and adventures</p></div>


<p>At "about Ten a Clock" in the morning of 17th April
1681, the mutineers went over the side into their
"Lanch and Canoas, designing for the River Santa
Maria, in the Gulf of St Michael." "We were in number,"
says Dampier, who was of the party, "44 white Men
who bore Arms, a <i>Spanish Indian</i>, who bore Arms also;
and two <i>Moskito Indians</i>," who carried pistols and fish
spears. Lionel Wafer "was of Mr Dampier's Side in
that Matter," and acted as surgeon to the forty-seven,
until he met with his accident. They embarked in the
ship's launch or long boat, one canoa "and another Canoa
which had been sawn asunder in the middle, in order to
have made Bumkins, or Vessels for carrying water, if we
had not separated from our Ship." This old canoa they
contrived to patch together. For provisions they brought
with them "so much Flower as we could well carry";
which "Flower" "we" had been industriously grinding
for the last three days. In addition to the "Flower" they
had "rubbed up 20 or 30 pound of Chocolate with Sugar
to sweeten it." And so provided, they hoisted their little
sails and stood in for the shore. "The Sea Breeze came
in strong" before they reached the land, so that they had
to cut up an old dry hide to make a close-fight round
the launch "to keep the Water out." They took a small
timber barque the next morning, and went aboard her,
and sailed her over to Gorgona, where they scrubbed her<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_277" id="Page_277">[277]</a></span>
bottom. They learned from their prisoners that the
Spaniards were on the alert, eagerly expecting them, and
cruising the seas with fast advice boats to get a sight of
them. Three warships lay at Panama, ready to hunt them
whenever the cruisers brought news of their whereabouts.
A day or two later, the pirates saw "two great ships,"
with many guns in their ports, slowly beating to the
southward in search of their company. The heavy rain
which was falling kept the small timber barque hidden,
while the pirates took the precautions of striking sail, and
rowing close in shore. "If they had seen and chased us,"
the pirates would have landed, trusting to the local
Indians to make good their escape over the isthmus.</p>

<p>After twelve days of sailing they anchored about twenty
miles from the San Miguel Gulf, in order to clean their
arms, and dry their clothes and powder, before proceeding
up the river, by the way they had come. The next morning
they set sail into the Gulf, and anchored off an island,
intending to search the river's mouth for Spaniards before
adventuring farther. As they had feared, a large Spanish
man-of-war lay anchored at the river's mouth, "close by
the shore," with her guns commanding the entrance.
Some of her men could be seen upon the beach, by the
door of a large tent, made of the ship's lower canvas.
"When the Canoas came aboard with this News," says
Dampier, "some of our Men were a little dis-heartned;
but it was no more than I ever expected." An hour or
two later they took one of the Spaniards from the ship
and learned from him that the ship carried twelve great
guns, and that three companies of men, with small arms,
would join her during the next twenty-four hours. They
learned also that the Indians of that district were friendly
to the Spaniards. Plainly the pirates were in a dangerous
position. "It was not convenient to stay longer there,"
says Dampier. They got aboard their ship without loss<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_278" id="Page_278">[278]</a></span>
of time, and ran out of the river "with the Tide of Ebb,"
resolved to get ashore at the first handy creek they
came to.</p>

<p>Early the next morning they ran into "a small Creek
within two Keys, or little Islands, and rowed up to the
Head of the Creek, being about a Mile up, and there we
landed May 1, 1681." The men flung their food and clothes
ashore, and scuttled their little ship, so that she sank at
her moorings. While they packed their "Snap-sacks"
with flour, chocolate, canisters of powder, beads, and
whittles for the Indians, their slaves "struck a plentiful
Dish of Fish" for them, which they presently broiled, and
ate for their breakfasts. Some of the men scouted on
ahead for a mile or two, and then returned with the
news that there were no immediate dangers in front of
them. Some of the pirates were weak and sick, and
"not well able to march." "We," therefore, "gave out,
that if any Man faultred in the Journey over Land he
must expect to be shot to death; for we knew that the
Spaniards would soon be after us, and one Man falling
into their hands might be the ruin of us all, by giving
an account of our strength and condition: yet this would
not deter 'em from going with us."</p>

<p>At three that afternoon they set out into the jungle,
steering a N.E. course "by our Pocket Compasses." The
rain beat upon them all the rest of that day, and all the
night long, a drenching and steady downpour, which
swamped the "small Hutts" they contrived to patch
together. In the morning they struck an old Indian
trail, no broader than a horse-girth, running somewhat
to the east. They followed it through the forest till they
came to an Indian town, where the squaws gave them
some corn-drink or miscelaw, and sold them a few fowls
and "a sort of wild Hogs." They hired a guide at this
village, "to guide us a day's march into the Countrey."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_279" id="Page_279">[279]</a></span>
"He was to have for his pains a Hatchet, and his Bargain
was to bring us to a certain Indians habitation, who could
speak Spanish." They paid faithfully for the food the
Indians gave them, and shared "all sorts of our Provisions
in common, because none should live better than others,"
and so stand a better chance of crossing the isthmus.
When they started out, after a night's rest, one of the
pirates, being already sick of the march, slipped away
into the jungle, and was seen no more.</p>

<p>They found the Spanish-speaking Indian in a bad
mood. He swore that he knew no road to the North
Sea, but that he could take them to Cheapo, or to Santa
Maria, "which we knew to be Spanish Garrisons: either
of them at least 20 miles out of our way." He was plainly
unwilling to have any truck with them, for "his discourse,"
was in an angry tone, and he "gave very impertinent
answers" to the questions put to him. "However we
were forced to make a virtue of necessity, and humour
him, for it was neither time nor place to be angry with
the Indians; all our lives lying in their hand." The
pirates were at their wits' end, for they lay but a few
miles from the guard ship, and this surly chief could
very well set the Spaniards on them. They tempted
him with green and blue beads, with gold and silver,
both in the crude and in coin, with beautiful steel axe
heads, with machetes, "or long knives"; "but nothing
would work on him." The pirates were beginning to
despair, when one of them produced "a Sky-coloured
Petticoat," and placed it about the person of the chief's
favourite wife. How he had become possessed of such
a thing, and whether it came from a Hilo beauty, and
whether she gave it as a love token, on the ship's sailing,
cannot now be known. It may have been an article
brought expressly from Jamaica for the fascination of the
Indians. But <i>honi soit qui mal y pense</i>. The truth of the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_280" id="Page_280">[280]</a></span>
matter will never be learned. It is sufficient that the
man produced it in the very nick of time, and laid the
blue tissue over the copper-coloured lady. She was so
much pleased with it "that she immediately began to
chatter to her Husband, and soon brought him into a
better Humour." He relented at once, and said that he
knew the trail to the North Sea, and that he would gladly
guide them thither were a cut upon his foot healed. As
he could not go himself he persuaded another Indian to
guide them "2 Days march further for another Hatchet."
He tried hard to induce the party to stay with him for
the rest of the day as the rain was pouring down in
torrents. "But our business required more haste, our
Enemies lying so near us, for he told us that he could
go from his house aboard the Guard-Ship in a Tides time;
and this was the 4th day since they saw us. So we
marched 3 Miles further and then built Hutts, where we
stayed all Night," with the thatch dripping water on to
them in a steady trickle.</p>

<p>On taking to the road again, wet and starving as they
were, they found themselves in a network of rivers, some
thirty of which they had to wade, during the day's march.
The heavy rain drenched them as they clambered along
across the jungle. They had but a little handful of fire that
night, so that they could not dry nor warm themselves.
They crouched about the "funk of green-wood," shivering
in the smoke, chewing bullets to alleviate their hunger.
They slept there in great misery, careless of what happened
to them. "The Spaniards were but seldom in our
thoughts," says Dampier, for the pirates thought only of
guides and food, and feared their own Indian servants
more than the enemy. A watch of two pirates kept a
guard all that night, with orders to shoot any Indian
who showed a sign of treachery. They rose before it
was light and pushed on into the woods, biting on the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_281" id="Page_281">[281]</a></span>
bullet, or the quid, to help them to forget their hunger.
By ten o'clock they arrived at the house of a brisk young
Indian, who had been a servant to the Bishop of Panama,
the man who gave the gold ring to Sawkins. Here they
had a feast of yams and sweet potatoes, boiled into a
broth with monkey-meat, a great comfort to those who
were weak and sickly. They built a great fire in one
of the huts, at which they dried their clothes, now falling
to pieces from the continual soakings. They also cleaned
their rusty gun-locks, and dried their powder, talking
cheerily together, about the fire, while the rain roared
upon the thatch. They were close beside the Rio
Congo "and thus far," says Dampier, the most intelligent
man among them, "we might have come in our Canoa,
if I could have persuaded them to it."</p>

<p>As they sat in the hut, in the warmth of the blaze, that
rainy May day, Lionel Wafer met with an accident. He
was sitting on the ground, beside one of the pirates,
who was drying his powder, little by little, half a pound
at a time, in a great silver dish, part of the plunder of
the cruise. "A careless Fellow passed by with his Pipe
lighted," and dropped some burning crumb of tobacco
on to the powder, which at once blew up. It scorched
Wafer's knee very terribly, tearing off the flesh from
the bone, and burning his leg from the knee to the thigh.
Wafer, who was the surgeon of the party, had a bag full
of salves and medicines. He managed to dress his
wounds, and to pass a fairly comfortable night, "and
being unwilling to be left behind by my Companions,
I made hard shift to jog on, and bear them Company,"
when camp was broken at daybreak.</p>

<p>Lame as he was, he kept up with his mates all that day,
fording rivers "several times," and crossing country which
would tax the strongest man, in good condition. "The
last time we forded the River, it was so deep, that our<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_282" id="Page_282">[282]</a></span>
tallest Men stood in the deepest place, and handed the
sick, weak and short Men"; by which act of comradeship
"we all got over safe." Two of the pirates, "Robert
Spratlin and William Bowman," could get no farther, and
were left behind at the river. Dampier notes that his
"Joint of Bambo, which I stopt at both Ends, closing
it with Wax, so as to keep out any Water," preserved
his "Journal and other Writings from being wet," though
he had often to swim for it.</p>

<p>Drenched and tired, they pitched their huts by the
river-bank, poor Wafer in torment from his knee, and
the rest of them hungry and cold. They had hardly
finished their huts, when the river came down in a great
wall of water, some sudden flood, due to a cloud-burst
higher up. The flood sucked away their huts, and forced
them to run to higher ground. They passed that night
"straggling in the Woods, some under one Tree, some
under another," with the thunder roaring overhead, and
the lightning making a livid brightness all about them.
The rain fell in torrents, and the pirates were far too
wretched to keep watch. "So our Slaves, taking Opportunity,
went away in the Night; all but one, who was
hid in some hole, and knew nothing of their design, or
else fell asleep." Among these slaves was a black man,
Lionel Wafer's assistant, who
<ins class="correction" title="Transcriber's Note: original reads 'carrried'">carried</ins>
the salves and
medicaments. He took these with him when he slunk
away, nor did he forget the "Chirurgeon's Gun and all
his Money." He left poor Wafer destitute there, in the
forest, "depriv'd of wherewithal to dress my sore."</p>

<p>In the morning, they found that the river had fallen, but
not so much as they had hoped. It was still too deep to
ford, and the current ran very swiftly, but Dampier and
some other swimmers managed to swim across. They
then endeavoured to get a line over, by which to ferry the
men who could not swim, and the arms and powder they<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_283" id="Page_283">[283]</a></span>
had left on the other bank. They decided to send a man
back with a line, with instructions to pass the goods first,
and then the men. "One George Gayny took the end of
a Line and made it fast about his Neck, and left the other
end ashore, and one Man stood by the Line, to clear it
away to him." When Gayny was about half way across,
the line, which was kinky with the wet, got entangled.
The man who was lighting it out checked it a moment
to take out the kink, or to clear it. The check threw
Gayny on his back, "and he that had the Line in his
hand," instead of slacking away, or hauling in, so as to
bring Gayny ashore, "threw it all into the River after him,
thinking he might recover himself." The stream was
running down with great fierceness. Gayny had a bag of
300 dollars on his back, and this bag, with the weight of
the line, dragged him under. He was carried down, and
swept out of sight "and never seen more by us." "This
put a period to that contrivance," adds Dampier grimly.</p>

<p>As they had no wish to emulate poor Gayny, they
sought about "for a Tree to fell across the River." They
cut it down, as soon as they had found it, "and it reached
clean over." The goods and pirates were then crossed in
safety. All hands soon forgot poor Gayny, for they came
across a plantain walk in a clearing, and made a good
breakfast, and stripped it of every fruit. They dismissed
their guide here, with the gift of an axe head, and hired
an old Indian to guide them farther towards the North
Sea. The next day they reckoned themselves out of
danger, and set forth cheerily.</p>

<p>For the last two days Wafer had been in anguish from
his burnt knee. As the pirates made ready to leave their
bivouac, on the tenth morning of the march, he declared
that he could not "trudge it further through Rivers and
Woods," with his knee as it was. Two other pirates who
were broken with the going, declared that they, also, were<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_284" id="Page_284">[284]</a></span>
too tired out to march. There was no talk, among the
rest of the band, about shooting the weary ones, according
to the order they had made at starting. Instead of "putting
them out of their misery," they "took a very kind
Leave," giving the broken men such stores as they could
spare, and telling them to keep in good heart, and follow
on when they had rested.</p>

<p>One of Wafer's comrades on this occasion was "Mr
Richard Jopson, who had served an Apprenticeship to a
Druggist in London. He was an ingenious Man, and a
good Scholar; he had with him a Greek Testament which
he frequently read, and would translate <i>extempore</i> into
<i>English</i>, to such of the Company as were dispos'd to hear
him." The other weary man was John Hingson, a mariner.
They watched their mates march away through the woods,
and then turned back, sick at heart, to the shelter of the
huts, where the Indians looked at them sulkily, and flung
them green plantains, "as you would Bones to a Dog."
One of the Indians made a mess of aromatic herbs and
dressed Wafer's burn, so that, in three weeks' time, he
could walk.</p>

<p>Dampier's party marched on through jungle, wading
across rivers, which took them up to the chest, staggering
through swamps and bogs, and clambering over rotten
tree trunks, and across thorn brakes. They were wet and
wretched and half starved, for their general food was
macaw berries. Sometimes they killed a monkey, once
Dampier killed a turkey, and once they came to a plantain
patch where "we fed plentifully on plantains, both ripe
and green." Their clothes were rotted into shreds, their
boots were fallen to pieces, their feet were blistered and
raw, their legs were mere skinless ulcers from the constant
soaking. Their faces were swelled and bloody from the
bites of mosquitoes and wood-ticks. "Not a Man of us
but wisht the Journey at an End." Those who have seen<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_285" id="Page_285">[285]</a></span>
"Bad Lands," or what is called "timber," or what is called
"bush," will know what the party looked like, when, on the
twenty-second day, they saw the North Sea. The day
after that they reached the Rio Conception, and drifted
down to the sea in some canoas, to an Indian village,
built on the beach "for the benefit of Trade with the
Privateers." About nine miles away, the Indians told
them, was a French privateer ship, under one Captain
Tristian, lying at La Sounds Key. They stayed a
night at the village, and then went aboard the French
ship, which was careened in a creek, with a brushwood
fire on her side, cleaning away her barnacles for a roving
cruise. Here they parted with their Indian guides, not
without sorrow, for it is not pleasant to say "So Long" to
folk with whom one has struggled, and lived, and suffered.
"We were resolved to reward them to their hearts' Content,"
said Dampier, much as a cowboy, at the end of the
trail, will give sugar to his horse, as he bids him good-bye.
The pirates spent their silver royally, buying red, blue and
green beads, and knives, scissors, and looking-glasses, from
the French pirates. They bought up the entire stock of
the French ship, but even then they felt that they had not
rewarded their guides sufficiently. They therefore subscribed
a half-dollar piece each, in coin, as a sort of makeweight.
With the toys, and the bags of silver, the delighted
Indians passed back to the isthmus, where they told golden
stories of the kind whites, so that the Indians of the Main
could not do enough for Wafer, and for the four pirates
left behind on the march.</p>

<p>Dampier's party had marched in all 110 miles, over the
most damnable and heart-breaking country which the mind
of man can imagine. They had marched "heavy," with
their guns and bags of dollars; and this in the rainy
season. They had starved and suffered, and shivered and
agonised, yet they had lost but two men, poor Gayny, who<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_286" id="Page_286">[286]</a></span>
was drowned, and (apparently) one who had slipped away
on the third day of the march. This man may have been
the Spanish Indian. A note in Ringrose's narrative
alludes to the capture of one of Dampier's party by the
Spanish soldiers, and this may have been the man meant.</p>

<p>Two days later, when the Indian guides had gone, and
the privateer was fit for the sea, they set sail for "the
rendezvous of the fleet," which had been fixed for Springers'
Key "another of the Samballoes Isles." Perhaps the
English pirates hove up the anchor, the grand privilege
of the guests, aboard ship, to the old anchor tune, with its
mournful and lovely refrain&mdash;</p>

<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
<span class="i0">"I'll go no more a-roving with you, fair maid."<br /></span>
</div></div>

<p>The old band of never-strikes were outward bound on
another foray.</p>

<p>As for Wafer, and his two companions, they stayed
with the Indians for some days, living on plantains (given
very grudgingly), and wondering whether the Indians
would kill them. The natives were kindly, as a rule, to
the French and English, but it was now the rainy season,
when they liked to stay in their huts, about their fires.
The pirates "had in a Manner awed the Indian guides
they took ... and made them go with them very much
against their Wills." The Indians had resented this act of
the pirates, and as days went by, and the guides did not
return, they judged that the white men had killed them.
They prepared "a great Pile of Wood to burn us," says
Wafer, meaning to avenge their fellows, whom they "had
supposed dead." But a friendly old chief dissuaded them
from this act, a few hours before the intended execution.</p>

<p>While the three were living thus, in doubt whether they
would be speared, or held as slaves, or sold to the
Spaniards, the two pirates, Spratlin and Bowman, who
had been left behind at the Rio Congo, arrived at the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_287" id="Page_287">[287]</a></span>
village. They had had a terrible journey together, "among
the wild Woods and Rivers," wandering without guides,
and living on roots and plantains. On their way, they
had come upon George Gayny "lying dead in a Creek
where the Eddy had driven him ashore," "with the Rope
twisted about him, and his Money at his Neck." They
left the body where it lay, with its sack of silver dollars
for which the poor man had come so far, and suffered so
bitterly. They had no use for dollars at that time "being
only in care how to work their way through a wild un-Known
Country."</p>

<p>After a time, the Indians helped the five men a two
days' march on their journey, and then deserted them,
leaving them to find the path by themselves, with no
better guide than a pocket compass. While crossing a
river by the bole of a fallen tree, the man Bowman "a
weakly Man, a Taylor by Trade," slipped into the current,
and was carried off, with "400 Pieces of Eight" in his
satchel. He was luckier than poor Gayny, for he contrived
to get out. In time they reached the North Sea,
and came to La Sounds Key, according to the prophecy
of an Indian wizard. Here they found Dampier's sloop,
and rejoined their comrades, to the great delight of all
hands. "Mr Wafer wore a clout about him, and was
painted like an Indian," so that "'twas the better Part
of an Hour, before one of the Crew cry'd out Here's our
Doctor." There was a great feast that night at La
Sounds Key, much drinking of rum and firing of small
arms, and a grand ringing of bells in honour of the happy
return.</p>

<p>In spite of all they could do, poor Mr Jopson, or Cobson,
only lived for three or four days after he reached the ship.
"His Fatigues, and his Drenching in the Water" had been
too much for the poor man. He lay "languishing" in his
cot for a few days, babbling of the drugs of Bucklersbury,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_288" id="Page_288">[288]</a></span>
and thumbing his Greek Testament, and at last passed in
his checks, quietly and sadly, and "died there at La
Sounds Key." They buried the poor man in the sands,
with very genuine sorrow, and then bade the Indians
adieu, and gave their dead mate a volley of guns, and
so set sail, with the colours at half-mast, for "the more
Eastern Isles of the Samballoes."</p>

<p>As for Captain Bartholomew Sharp, in the ship the
<i>Trinity</i>, he continued to sail the South Seas with the
seventy pirates left to him. Some days after Dampier's
party sailed, he took a Guayaquil ship, called the <i>San
Pedro</i>, which he had taken fourteen months before off
Panama. Aboard her he found nearly 40,000 pieces of
eight, besides silver bars, and ingots of gold. He also
took a great ship called the <i>San Rosario</i>, the richest ship
the buccaneers ever captured. She had many chests of
pieces of eight aboard her, and a quantity of wine and
brandy. Down in her hold, bar upon bar, "were 700 pigs
of plate," rough silver from the mines, not yet fitted for the
Lima mint. The pirates thought that this crude silver was
tin, and so left it where it lay, in the hold of the <i>Rosario</i>
"which we turned away loose into the sea," with the
stuff aboard her. One pig of the 700 was brought
aboard the pirates "to make bullets of." About two-thirds
of it was "melted and squandered," but some of it
was left long afterwards, when the <i>Trinity</i> touched at
Antigua. Here they gave what was left to "a Bristol
man," probably in exchange for a dram of rum. The
Bristol man took it home to England "and sold it there
for &pound;75 sterling." "Thus," said Ringrose, "we parted
with the richest booty we got in the whole voyage."
Captain Bartholomew Sharp was responsible for the
turning adrift of all this silver. Some of the pirates
had asked leave to hoist it aboard the <i>Trinity</i>. But it
chanced that, aboard the <i>Rosario</i>, was a Spanish lady,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_289" id="Page_289">[289]</a></span>
"the beautifullest Creature" that the "Eyes" of Captain
Sharp ever beheld. The amorous captain was so inflamed
by this beauty that he paid no attention to anything else.</p>

<p>In a very drunken and quarrelsome condition, the
pirates worked the <i>Trinity</i> round the Horn, and so home
to Barbadoes. They did not dare to land there, for one
of the King's frigates, H.M.S. <i>Richmond</i>, was lying at
Bridgetown, and the pirates "feared lest the said frigate
should seize us." They bore away to Antigua, where
Ringrose, and "thirteen more," shipped themselves for
England. They landed at Dartmouth on the 26th of
March 1682. A few more of the company went ashore
at Antigua, and scattered to different haunts. Sharp and
a number of pirates landed at Nevis, from whence they
shipped for London. The ship the <i>Trinity</i> was left to
seven of the gang who had diced away all their money.
What became of her is not known.</p>

<p>Sharp and a number of his men were arrested in
London, and tried for piracy, but the Spanish Ambassador,
who brought the charge, was without evidence and
could not obtain convictions. They pleaded that "the
Spaniards fired at us first," and that they had acted only
in self-defence, so they 'scaped hanging, though Sharp
admits that they "were very near it." Three more of the
crew were laid by the heels at Jamaica, and one of these
was "wheedled into an open confession," and condemned,
and hanged. "The other two stood it out, and escaped
for want of witnesses."</p>

<p>Of the four men so often quoted in this narrative, only
one, so far as we know, died a violent death. This was
Basil Ringrose, who was shot at Santa Pecaque a few years
later. It is not known how Dampier, Wafer, and Sharp
died, but all lived adventurously, and went a-roving, for
many years after the <i>Trinity</i> dropped her anchor off
Antigua.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_290" id="Page_290">[290]</a></span></p>

<p>They were of that old breed of rover whose port lay
always a little farther on; a little beyond the sky-line.
Their concern was not to preserve life, "but rather to
squander it away"; to fling it, like so much oil, into the
fire, for the pleasure of going up in a blaze. If they lived
riotously let it be urged in their favour that at least they
lived. They lived their vision. They were ready to die
for what they believed to be worth doing. We think
them terrible. Life itself is terrible. But life was not
terrible to them; for they were comrades; and comrades and
brothers-in-arms are stronger than life. Those who "live
at home at ease" may condemn them. They are free to
do so. The old buccaneers were happier than they. The
buccaneers had comrades, and the strength to live their
own lives. They may laugh at those who, lacking that
strength, would condemn them with the hate of impotence.</p>



<hr class="chapter" />
<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_291" id="Page_291">[291]</a></span></p>
<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XVI" id="CHAPTER_XVI"></a>CHAPTER XVI</h2>

<h3>SHIPS AND RIGS</h3>

<div class="blockquot"><p>Galleys&mdash;Dromonds&mdash;Galliasses&mdash;Pinnaces&mdash;Pavesses&mdash;Top-arming&mdash;Banners&mdash;Boats</p></div>


<p>Until the reign of Henry VIII. the shipping of these
islands was of two kinds. There were longships,
propelled, for the most part, by oars, and used generally
as warships; and there were roundships, or dromonds,
propelled by sails, and used as a rule for the carriage of
freight. The dromond, in war-time, was sometimes converted
into a warship, by the addition of fighting-castles
fore and aft. The longship, in peace time, was no doubt
used as a trader, as far as her shallow draught, and small
beam, allowed.</p>

<p>The longship, or galley, being, essentially, an oar vessel,
had to fulfil certain simple conditions. She had to be
light, or men might not row her. She had to be long, or
she might not carry enough oarsmen to propel her with
sufficient swiftness. Her lightness, and lack of draught,
made it impossible for her to carry much provision;
while the number of her oars made it necessary for her
to carry a large crew of rowers, in addition to her soldiers
and sail trimmers. It was therefore impossible for such
a ship to keep the seas for any length of time, even had
their build fitted them for the buffetings of the stormy
home waters. For short cruises, coast work, rapid forays,
and "shock tactics," she was admirable; but she could not
stray far from a friendly port, nor put out in foul weather.
The roundship, dromond, or cargo boat, was often little<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_292" id="Page_292">[292]</a></span>
more than two beams long, and therefore far too slow to
compete with ships of the galley type. She could stand
heavy weather better than the galley, and she needed
fewer hands, and could carry more provisions, but she was
almost useless as a ship of war.</p>

<p>In the reign of Henry VIII. the shipwrights of this
country began to build ships which combined something
of the strength, and capacity of the dromond, with the
length and fineness of the galley. The ships they evolved
were mainly dependent upon their sails, but they carried
a bank of oars on each side, for use in light weather. The
galley, or longship, had carried guns on a platform at the
bows, pointing forward. But these new vessels carried
guns in broadside, in addition to the bow-chasers. These
broadside guns were at first mounted <i>en barbette</i>, pointing
over the bulwarks. Early in the sixteenth century the
port-hole, with a hinged lid, was invented, and the guns
were then pointed through the ship's sides. As these
ships carried more guns than the galleys, they were built
more strongly, lest the shock of the explosions should
shake them to pieces. They were strong enough to keep
the seas in bad weather, yet they had enough of the galley
build to enable them to sail fast when the oars were laid
inboard. It is thought that they could have made as
much as four or five knots an hour. These ships were
known as galliasses,<a name="FNanchor_18_18" id="FNanchor_18_18"></a><a href="#Footnote_18_18" class="fnanchor">[18]</a> and galleons, according to the proportions
between their lengths and beams. The galleons
were shorter in proportion to their breadth than the
galliasses.<a name="FNanchor_19_19" id="FNanchor_19_19"></a><a href="#Footnote_19_19" class="fnanchor">[19]</a> There was another kind of vessel, the pinnace,
which had an even greater proportionate length than the
galliasse. Of the three kinds, the galleon, being the
shortest in proportion to her breadth, was the least fitted
for oar propulsion.</p>

<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;">
<a name="img348" id="img348"></a>
<a href="https://brian.carnell.com/wiki/_media/etext:j:john-masefield-on-the-spanish-main-348.jpg"><img src="https://brian.carnell.com/wiki/_media/etext:j:john-masefield-on-the-spanish-main-348_th.jpg" width="400" height="276"
alt="AN ELIZABETHAN GALLEON" title="AN ELIZABETHAN GALLEON" /></a>
<span class="caption">AN ELIZABETHAN GALLEON</span>
</div>


<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_293" id="Page_293">[293]</a></span>
During the reign of Elizabeth, the galleon, or great ship,
and the galliasse, or cruiser, grew to gradual perfection,
in the hands of our great sailors. If we look upon the
galleon or great ship as the prototype of the ship of the
line, and on the galliasse as the prototype of the frigate,
and on the pinnace as the prototype of the sloop, or
corvette, we shall not be far wrong. They were, of course,
in many ways inferior to the ships which fought in the
great French wars, two centuries later, but their general
appearance was similar. The rig was different, but not
markedly so, while the hulls of the ships presented many
points of general likeness. The Elizabethan ships were,
however, very much smaller than most of the rated ships
in use in the eighteenth century.</p>

<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;">
<a name="img369" id="img369"></a>
<a href="https://brian.carnell.com/wiki/_media/etext:j:john-masefield-on-the-spanish-main-369.jpg"><img src="https://brian.carnell.com/wiki/_media/etext:j:john-masefield-on-the-spanish-main-369_th.jpg" width="400" height="276"
alt="A GALLIASSE" title="A GALLIASSE" /></a>
<span class="caption">A GALLIASSE</span>
</div>

<p>The galleon, or great ship, at the end of the sixteenth
century, was sometimes of as much as 900 tons. She was
generally low in the waist, with a high square forecastle
forward, a high quarter-deck, raised above the waist, just
abaft the main-mast, and a poop above the quarter-deck,
sloping upward to the taffrail. These high outerworks
were shut off from the open waist (the space between the
main-mast and the forecastle) by wooden bulkheads, which
were pierced for small, quick-firing guns. Below the
upper, or spar deck, she had a gun-deck, if not more than
one, with guns on each side, and right aft. The galliasse
was sometimes flush-decked, without poop and forecastle,
and sometimes built with both, but she was never so "high
charged" as the galleon. The pinnace was as the galliasse,
though smaller.</p>

<p>The galleon's waist was often without bulwarks, so that
when she went into action it became necessary to give her
sail trimmers, and spar-deck fighting men, some protection
from the enemy's shot.<a name="FNanchor_20_20" id="FNanchor_20_20"></a><a href="#Footnote_20_20" class="fnanchor">[20]</a> Sometimes this was done by the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_294" id="Page_294">[294]</a></span>
hauling up of waist-trees, or spars of rough untrimmed
timber, to form a sort of wooden wall. Sometimes they
rigged what was called a top-arming, or top armour, a
strip of cloth like the "war girdle" of the Norse longships,
across the unprotected space. This top-arming was of
canvas some two bolts deep (3 feet 6 inches), gaily painted
in designs of red, yellow, green, and white. It gave no
protection against shot, but it prevented the enemy's
gunners from taking aim at the deck, or from playing upon
the hatchways with their murderers and pateraroes. It
also kept out boarders, and was a fairly good shield to
catch the arrows and crossbow bolts shot from the enemy's
tops. Sometimes the top-arming was of scantling, or thin
plank, in which case it was called a pavesse. Pavesses
were very beautifully painted with armorial bearings,
arranged in shields, a sort of reminiscence of the old
Norse custom of hanging the ship's sides with shields.
Another way was to mask the open space with a ranged
hemp cable, which could be cleared away after the fight.</p>

<p>The ships were rigged much as they were rigged two
centuries later. The chief differences were in the rigging
of the bowsprit and of the two after masts. Forward the
ships had bowsprits, on which each set a spritsail, from a
spritsail yard. The foremast was stepped well forward,
almost over the spring of the cutwater. Generally, but
not always, it was made of a single tree (pine or fir). If
it was what was known as "a made mast," it was built up
of two, or three, or four, different trees, judiciously sawn,
well seasoned, and then hooped together. Masts were
pole-masts until early in the reign of Elizabeth, when a
fixed topmast was added. By Drake's time they had
learned that a movable topmast was more useful, and less
dangerous for ships sailing in these waters. The caps and
tops were made of elm wood. The sails on the foremast
were foresail and foretop-sail, the latter much the smaller<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_295" id="Page_295">[295]</a></span>
and less important of the two. They were set on wooden
yards, the foreyard and foretopsail-yard, both of which
could be sent on deck in foul weather. The main-mast
was stepped a little abaft the beam, and carried three sails,
the main-sail, the main topsail, and a third, the main topgallant-sail.
This third sail did not set from a yard until
many years after its introduction. It began life like a
modern "moon-raker," a triangular piece of canvas,
setting from the truck, or summit of the topmast, to the
yardarm of the main topsail-yard. Up above it, on a
bending light pole, fluttered the great colours, a George's
cross of scarlet on a ground of white. Abaft the main-mast
were the mizzen, carrying one sail, on a lateen yard,
one arm of which nearly touched the deck; and the bonaventure
mizzen (which we now call the jigger) rigged in
exactly the same way. Right aft, was a banner pole for
the display of colours. These masts were stepped, stayed,
and supported almost exactly as masts are rigged to-day,
though where we use iron, and wire, they used wood and
hemp. The shrouds of the fore and main masts led outboard,
to "chains" or strong platforms projecting from the
ship's sides. These "chains" were clamped to the ship's
sides with rigid links of iron. The shrouds of the after
masts were generally set up within the bulwarks. On
each mast, just above the lower yard, yet below the masthead,
was a fighting-top built of elm wood and gilded
over. It was a little platform, resting on battens, and in
ancient times it was circular, with a diameter of perhaps
six or seven feet. It had a parapet round it, inclining outboard,
perhaps four feet in height. It was entered by a
lubber's hole in the flooring, through which the shrouds
passed. In each top was an arm chest containing Spanish
darts, crossbows, longbows, arrows, bolts, and perhaps
granadoes. When the ship went into battle a few picked
marksmen were stationed in the tops with orders to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_296" id="Page_296">[296]</a></span>
search the enemy's decks with their missiles, particularly
the afterparts, where the helmsman stood. In later days
the tops were armed with light guns, of the sorts known as
slings and fowlers; but top-fighting with firearms was
dangerous, as the gunners carried lighted matches, and
there was always a risk of sparks, from the match, or from
the wads, setting fire to the sails. The running rigging
was arranged much as running rigging is arranged to-day,
though its quality, in those times, was probably worse
than nowadays. The rope appears to have been very
fickle stuff which carried away under slight provocation.
The blocks were bad, for the sheaves were made of some
comparatively soft wood, which swelled, when wet, and
jammed. Lignum vit&aelig; was not used for block-sheaves
until after the Dutch War in Cromwell's time. Iron
blocks were in use in the time of Henry VIII. but only as
fair-leads for chain topsail sheets, and as snatches for the
boarding of the "takkes." The shrouds and stays, were
of hawser stuff, extremely thick nine-stranded hemp; and
all those parts exposed to chafing (as from a sail, or a
rope) were either served, or neatly covered up with matting.
The matting was made by the sailors, of rope, or
white line, plaited curiously. When in its place it was
neatly painted, or tarred, much as one may see it in
Norwegian ships at the present day. The yardarms, and
possibly the chains, were at one time fitted with heavy
steel sickles, projecting outboard, which were kept sharp,
so that, when running alongside an enemy, they might cut
her rigging to pieces. These sickles were known as sheer-hooks.
They were probably of little use, for they became
obsolete before the end of the reign of Queen Elizabeth.</p>

<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;">
<a name="img354" id="img354"></a>
<a href="https://brian.carnell.com/wiki/_media/etext:j:john-masefield-on-the-spanish-main-354.jpg"><img src="https://brian.carnell.com/wiki/_media/etext:j:john-masefield-on-the-spanish-main-354_th.jpg" width="400" height="276"
alt="AN ELIZABETHAN GALLEON" title="AN ELIZABETHAN GALLEON" /></a>
<span class="caption">AN ELIZABETHAN GALLEON</span>
</div>

<p>Most of the sails used in these old ships were woven in
Portsmouth on hand-looms. The canvas was probably
of good quality, as good perhaps as the modern stout
No. 1, for hand-woven stuff is always tighter, tougher,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_297" id="Page_297">[297]</a></span>
better put together, than that woven by the big steam-loom.
It was at one time the custom to decorate the
sail, with a design of coloured cloth, cut out, as one cuts
out a paper pattern, and stitched upon its face with sail
twine. In the royal ships this design was of lions
rampant, cut out of scarlet say. The custom of carrying
such coloured canvas appears to have died out by
the end of the sixteenth century. Perhaps flag signalling
had come into vogue making it necessary to abandon
anything that might tend to confuse the colours. About
the same time we abandoned the custom of making our
ships gay with little flags, of red and white linen, in
guidons like those on a trooper's lance. All through the
Tudor reigns our ships carried them, but for some reason
the practice was allowed to die out. A last relic of it
still flutters on blue water in the little ribbons of the wind-vane,
on the weather side the poop, aboard sailing ships.</p>

<p>The great ship carried three boats, which were stowed
on chocks in the waist, just forward of the main-mast, one
inside the other when not in use. The boats were, the
long boat, a large, roomy boat with a movable mast;
the cock, cog or cok boat, sometimes called the galley-watt;
and the whale, or jolly boat, a sort of small balenger,
with an iron-plated bow, which rowed fourteen oars. It
was the custom to tow one or more of these boats astern,
when at sea, except in foul weather, much as one may
see a brig, or a topsail schooner, to-day, with a dinghy
dragging astern. The boat's coxswain stayed in her as
she towed, making her clean, fending her off, and looking
out for any unfortunate who chanced to fall overboard.</p>

<div class="blockquot"><p><i>Authorities.</i>&mdash;W. Charnock: "History of Marine Architecture." Julian
Corbett: "Drake and the Tudor Navy." A. Jal: "Archeologie Navale";
"Glossaire Nautique." Sir W. Monson: "Naval Tracts." Sir H. Nicholas:
"History of the Royal Navy." M. Oppenheim: "History of the Administration
of the Royal Navy"; "Naval Inventories of the Reign of Henry VII."</p></div>



<hr class="chapter" />
<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_298" id="Page_298">[298]</a></span></p>
<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XVII" id="CHAPTER_XVII"></a>CHAPTER XVII</h2>

<h3>GUNS AND GUNNERS</h3>

<div class="blockquot"><p>Breech-loaders&mdash;Cartridges&mdash;Powder&mdash;The gunner's art</p></div>


<p>Cannon were in use in Europe, it is thought, in the
eleventh century; for the art of making gunpowder
came westward, from China, much earlier than people
have supposed. It is certain that gunpowder was used
"in missiles," before it was used to propel them. The
earliest cannon were generally of forged iron built in
strips secured by iron rings. They were loaded by movable
chambers which fitted into the breech, and they were
known as "crakys of war." We find them on English
ships at the end of the fourteenth century, in two kinds,
the one a cannon proper, the other an early version of
the harquebus-a-croc. The cannon was a mere iron tube,
of immense strength, bound with heavy iron rings. The
rings were shrunken on to the tube in the ordinary way.
The tube, when ready, was bolted down to a heavy
squared beam of timber on the ship's deck. It was loaded
by the insertion of the "gonne-chambre," an iron pan,
containing the charge, which fitted into, and closed the
breech. This gonne-chambre was wedged in firmly by
a chock of elm wood beaten in with a mallet. Another
block of wood, fixed in the deck behind it, kept it from
flying out with any violence when the shot was fired.
Cannon of this sort formed the main armament of ships
until after the reign of Henry the Eighth. They fired
stone cannon-balls, "pellettes of lead, and dyce of iron."
Each gun had some half-dozen chambers, so that the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_299" id="Page_299">[299]</a></span>
firing from them may have been rapid, perhaps three
rounds a minute. The powder was not kept loose in
tubs, near the guns, but neatly folded in conical cartridges,
made of canvas or paper (or flannel) which practice prevailed
for many years. All ships of war carried "pycks
for hewing stone-shott," though after 1490, "the iron shott
callyd bowletts," and their leaden brothers, came into
general use. The guns we have described, were generally
two or four pounders, using from half-a-pound, to a pound
and a quarter, of powder, at each discharge. The carriage,
or bed, on which they lay, was usually fitted with wheels
at the rear end only.</p>

<p>The other early sea-cannon, which we have mentioned,
were also breech-loading. They were mounted on a sort
of iron wheel, at the summit of a stout wooden staff, fixed
in the deck, or in the rails of the poop and forecastle.
They were of small size, and revolved in strong iron pivot
rings, so that the man firing them might turn them in any
direction he wished. They were of especial service in
sweeping the waist, the open spar-deck, between the
breaks of poop and forecastle, when boarders were on
board. They threw "base and bar-shot to murder near
at hand"; but their usual ball was of stone, and for this
reason they were called petrieroes, and petrieroes-a-braga.
The harquebus-a-croc, a weapon almost exactly
similar, threw small cross-bar shot "to cut Sails and
Rigging." In Elizabethan times it was carried in the
tops of fighting ships, and on the rails and gunwales of
<ins class="correction" title="Transcriber's Note: original reads 'merchantmen,'">merchantmen.</ins></p>

<p>In the reign of Henry VIII., a ship called the <i>Mary
Rose</i>, of 500 tons, took part in the battle with the French,
in St Helens Roads, off Brading. It was a sultry
summer day, almost windless, when the action began,
and the <i>Mary Rose</i> suffered much (being unable to stir)
from the gun-fire of the French galleys. At noon, when<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_300" id="Page_300">[300]</a></span>
a breeze sprang up, and the galleys drew off, the <i>Mary
Rose</i> sent her men to dinner. Her lower ports, which
were cut too low down, were open, and the wind heeled
her over, so that the sea rushed in to them. She sank
in deep water, in a few moments, carrying with her her
captain, and all the gay company on board. In 1836
some divers recovered a few of her cannon, of the kinds
we have described, some of brass, some of iron. The
iron guns had been painted red and black. Those of
brass, in all probability, had been burnished, like so much
gold. These relics may be seen by the curious, at Woolwich,
in the Museum of Ordnance, to which they were
presented by their salver.</p>

<p>In the reign of Elizabeth, cannon were much less primitive,
for a great advance took place directly men learned
the art of casting heavy guns. Until 1543, they had
forged them; a painful process, necessarily limited to
small pieces. After that year they cast them round a
core, and by 1588 they had evolved certain general types
of ordnance which remained in use, in the British Navy,
almost unchanged, until after the Crimean War. The
Elizabethan breech-loaders, and their methods, have now
been described, but a few words may be added with
reference to the muzzle-loaders. The charge for these
was contained in cartridges, covered with canvas, or
"paper royall" (<i>i.e.</i> parchment), though the parchment
used to foul the gun at each discharge. Burning scraps
of it remained in the bore, so that, before reloading, the
weapon had to be "wormed," or scraped out, with an
instrument like an edged corkscrew. A tampion, or wad,
of oakum or the like, was rammed down between the
cartridge and the ball, and a second wad kept the ball
in place. When the gun was loaded the gunner filled
the touch-hole with his priming powder, from a horn
he carried in his belt, after thrusting a sharp wire, called<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_301" id="Page_301">[301]</a></span>
the priming-iron, down the touch-hole, through the cartridge,
so that the priming powder might have direct access
to the powder of the charge. He then sprinkled a little
train of powder along the gun, from the touch-hole to
the base-ring, for if he applied the match directly to the
touch-hole the force of the explosion was liable to blow
his linstock from his hand. In any case the "huff" or
"spit" of fire, from the touch-hole, burned little holes, like
pock-marks, in the beams overhead. The match was
applied smartly, with a sharp drawing back of the hand,
the gunner stepping quickly aside to avoid the recoil.
He stepped back, and stood, on the side of the gun opposite
to that on which the cartridges were stored, so that
there might be no chance of a spark from his match
setting fire to the ammunition. Spare match, newly
soaked in saltpetre water, lay coiled in a little tub beside
the gun. The cartridges, contained in latten buckets, were
placed in a barrel by the gun and covered over with a
skin of leather. The heavy shot were arranged in shot
racks, known as "gardens," and these were ready to the
gunner's hand, with "cheeses" of tampions or wads. The
wads were made of soft wood, oakum, hay, straw, or
"other such like." The sponges and rammers were
hooked to the beams above the gun ready for use. The
rammers were of hard wood, shod with brass, "to save
the Head from cleaving." The sponges were of soft fast
wood, "As Aspe, Birch, Willow, or such like," and had
heads covered with "rough Sheepes skinne wooll," nailed
to the staff with "Copper nayles." "Ladels," or powder
shovels, for the loading of guns, were seldom used at sea.</p>

<p>The guns were elevated or depressed by means of
handspikes and quoins. Quoins were blocks of wood,
square, and wedge-shaped, with ring-hooks screwed in
them for the greater ease of
<ins class="correction" title="Transcriber's Note: original lacks .">handling.</ins>
Two of the gun's
crew raised the base of the cannon upon their handspikes,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_302" id="Page_302">[302]</a></span>
using the "steps" of the gun carriage as their fulcra.
A third slid a quoin along the "bed" of the carriage,
under the gun, to support it at the required height. The
recoil of the gun on firing, was often very violent, but
it was limited by the stout rope called the breeching,
which ran round the base of the gun, from each side of
the port-hole, and kept it from running back more than
its own length. When it had recoiled it was in the
position for sponging and loading, being kept from
running out again, with the roll of the ship, by a train,
or preventer tackle, hooked to a ring-bolt in amidships.
In action, particularly in violent action, the guns became
very hot, and "kicked" dangerously. Often they recoiled
with such force as to overturn, or to snap the breeching,
or to leap up to strike the upper beams. Brass guns
were more skittish than iron, but all guns needed a rest
of two or three hours, if possible, after continual firing
for more than eight hours at a time. To cool a gun in
action, to keep it from bursting, or becoming red-hot,
John Roberts advises sponging "with spunges wet in
ley and water, or water and vinegar, or with the coolest
fresh or salt water, bathing and washing her both within
and without." This process "if the Service is hot, as
it was with us at Bargen" should be repeated, "every
eighth or tenth shot." The powder in use for cannon
was called Ordnance or Corne-powder. It was made
in the following proportion. To every five pounds of
refined saltpetre, one pound of good willow, or alder,
charcoal, and one pound of fine yellow sulphur. The
ingredients were braised together in a mortar, moistened
with water distilled of orange rinds, or aqua-vit&aelig;, and
finally dried and sifted. It was a bright, "tawny blewish
colour" when well made. Fine powder, for muskets or
priming seems to have had a greater proportion of
saltpetre.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_303" id="Page_303">[303]</a></span></p>

<p>The Naval Tracts of Sir W. Monson, contain a list of
the sorts of cannon mounted in ships of the time of
Queen Elizabeth. It is not exhaustive, but as Robert
Norton and Sir Jonas Moore give similar lists, the
curious may check the one with the other.</p>


<div class='center'>
<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary="cannon types">
<tr><td></td><td class="center">Bore</td><td class="center">Weight<br />of Cannon</td><td class="center">Weight<br />of Shot</td><td class="center">Weight<br />of Powder</td><td class="center">Point Blank<br />Range</td><td class="center">Random</td><td></td><td class="center">Length<br />in Feet</td></tr>
<tr><td></td><td class="center">ins.</td><td class="center">lb.</td><td class="center">lb.</td><td class="center">lb.</td><td class="center">paces</td><td class="center">paces</td></tr>
<tr><td>Cannon Royal or Double Cannon</td><td>8&frac12;</td><td class="right">8000</td><td class="right">66</td><td class="right">30</td><td class="right">800</td><td class="right">1930</td><td class="center">M.L.</td><td class="right">12</td></tr>
<tr><td>Cannon or Whole Cannon</td><td>8</td><td class="right">6000</td><td class="right">60</td><td class="right">27</td><td class="right">770</td><td class="right">2000</td><td class="center">"</td><td class="right">11</td></tr>
<tr><td>Cannon Serpentine</td><td>7</td><td class="right">5500</td><td class="right">53&frac12;</td><td class="right">25</td><td class="right">200</td><td class="right">2000</td><td class="center">"</td><td class="right">10</td></tr>
<tr><td>Bastard Cannon</td><td>7</td><td class="right">4500</td><td class="right">41&frac12;</td><td class="right">20</td><td class="right">180</td><td class="right">1800</td><td class="center">"</td><td class="right">10</td></tr>
<tr><td>Demi-Cannon</td><td>6&frac12;-7</td><td class="right">4000</td><td class="right">33&frac12;</td><td class="right">18</td><td class="right">170</td><td class="right">1700</td><td class="center">"</td><td class="right">10</td></tr>
<tr><td>Cannon Petro or Cannon Perier</td><td>6</td><td class="right">4000</td><td class="right">24&frac12;</td><td class="right">14</td><td class="right">160</td><td class="right">1600</td><td class="center">"</td><td class="right">4</td></tr>
<tr><td>Culverin</td><td>5-5&frac12;</td><td class="right">4500</td><td class="right">17&frac12;</td><td class="right">12</td><td class="right">200</td><td class="right">2500</td><td class="center">"</td><td class="right">13</td></tr>
<tr><td>Basilisk</td><td>5</td><td class="right">4000</td><td class="right">15</td><td class="right">10</td><td class="right">230</td><td class="right">3000</td><td class="center">"</td><td class="right">4</td></tr>
<tr><td>Demi-Culverin</td><td>4</td><td class="right">3400</td><td class="right">9&frac12;</td><td class="right">8</td><td class="right">200</td><td class="right">2500</td><td class="center">"</td><td class="right">11</td></tr>
<tr><td>Bastard Culverin</td><td>4</td><td class="right">3000</td><td class="right">7</td><td class="right">5&frac34;</td><td class="right">170</td><td class="right">1700</td><td class="center">"</td><td class="right">11</td></tr>
<tr><td>Saker</td><td>3&frac12;</td><td class="right">1400</td><td class="right">5&frac12;</td><td class="right">5&frac12;</td><td class="right">170</td><td class="right">1700</td><td class="center">"</td><td class="right">9 or 10</td></tr>
<tr><td>Minion</td><td>3&frac12;</td><td class="right">1000</td><td class="right">4</td><td class="right">4</td><td class="right">170</td><td class="right">1700</td><td class="center">"</td><td class="right">8</td></tr>
<tr><td>Falcon</td><td>2&frac12;</td><td class="right">660</td><td class="right">3</td><td class="right">3</td><td class="right">150</td><td class="right">1500</td><td class="center">"</td><td class="right">7</td></tr>
<tr><td>Falconet</td><td>2</td><td class="right">500</td><td class="right">1&frac12;</td><td class="right">1&frac14;</td><td class="right">150</td><td class="right">1500</td><td class="center">"</td><td class="right">6&frac12;</td></tr>
<tr><td>Serpentine</td><td>1&frac12;</td><td class="right">400</td><td class="right">&frac34;</td><td class="right">&frac34;</td><td class="right">140</td><td class="right">1400</td><td class="center">"</td><td class="right">4&frac12;</td></tr>
<tr><td>Rabinet</td><td>1</td><td class="right">300</td><td class="right">&frac12;</td><td class="right">&frac12;</td><td class="right">120</td><td class="right">1000</td><td class="center">"</td><td class="right">2&frac12;</td></tr>
</table></div>

<p>To these may be added bases, port pieces, stock fowlers,
slings, half slings, and three-quarter slings, breech-loading
guns ranging from five and a half to one-inch bore.</p>

<p>Other firearms in use in our ships at sea were the
matchlock musket, firing a heavy double bullet, and
the harquabuse<a name="FNanchor_21_21" id="FNanchor_21_21"></a><a href="#Footnote_21_21" class="fnanchor">[21]</a> or arquebus, which fired a single bullet.
The musket was a heavy weapon, and needed a rest,
a forked staff, to support the barrel while the soldier
aimed. This staff the musketeer lashed to his wrist,
with a cord, so that he might drag it after him from
place to place. The musket was fired with a match,
which the soldier lit from a cumbrous pocket fire-carrier.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_304" id="Page_304">[304]</a></span>
The harquabuse was a lighter gun, which was fired without
a rest, either by a wheel-lock (in which a cog-wheel,
running on pyrites, caused sparks to ignite the powder),
or by the match and touch-hole. Hand firearms were
then common enough, and came to us from Italy, shortly
after 1540. They were called Daggs. They were wheel-locks,
wild in firing, short, heavy, and beautifully wrought.
Sometimes they carried more than one barrel, and in
some cases they were made revolving. They were most
useful in a hand-to-hand encounter, as with footpads, or
boarders; but they were useless at more than ten paces.
A variation from them was the hand-cannon or blunderbuss,
with a bell-muzzle, which threw rough slugs or
nails. In Elizabethan ships the musketeers sometimes
fired short, heavy, long-headed, pointed iron arrows from
their muskets, a missile which flew very straight, and
penetrated good steel armour. They had also an infinity
of subtle fireworks, granadoes and the like, with which
to set their opponents on fire. These they fired from the
bombard pieces, or threw from the tops, or cage-works.
Crossbows and longbows went to sea, with good store
of Spanish bolts and arrows, until the end of Elizabeth's
reign, though they were, perhaps, little used after 1590.
The gunner had charge of them, and as, in a way, the
gunner was a sort of second captain, sometimes taking
command of the ship, we cannot do better than to quote
from certain old books concerning his duties on board.
Mr W. Bourne, the son of an eminent mathematician, has
left a curious little book on "The Arte of Shooting in
Great Ordnance," first published in London, in 1587,
the year before the Armada. Its author, W. Bourne,
was at one time a gunner of the bulwark at Gravesend.
The art of shooting in great guns did not improve very
much during the century following; nor did the guns
change materially. The breech-loading, quick-firing guns<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_305" id="Page_305">[305]</a></span>
fell out of use as the musket became more handy; but
otherwise the province of the gunner changed hardly at
all. It is not too much to say that gunners of Nelson's
time, might have studied some of Bourne's book with profit.</p>

<p>"As for gunners that do serve by the Sea, [they] must
observe this order following. First that they do foresee
that all their great Ordnannce be fast breeched, and
foresee that all their geare be handsome and in a readinesse.
&amp; Furthermore that they be very circumspect about their
Pouder in the time of service, and especially beware of
their lint stockes &amp; candels for feare of their Pouder, &amp;
their fireworks, &amp; their Ducum [or priming powder],
which is very daungerous, and much to be feared. Then
furthermore, that you do keep your peeces as neer as
you can, dry within, and also that you keep their tutch-holes
cleane, without any kind of drosse falling into them."</p>

<p>The gunners were also to know the "perfect dispart"
of their pieces: that is they were to make a calculation
which would enable them in sighting, to bring "the
hollow of the peece," not the outer muzzle rim, "right
against the marke." In the case of a breech-loader this
could not be done by art, with any great exactness,
"but any reasonable man (when he doth see the peece
and the Chamber) may easily know what he must doe,
as touching those matters." In fighting at sea, in anything
like a storm, with green seas running, so that
"the Shippes do both heave and set" the gunner was
to choose a gun abaft the main-mast, on the lower orlop,
"if the shippe may keepe the porte open," as in that part
of the vessel the motion would be least apparent.</p>

<p>"Then if you doe make a shotte at another Shippe,
you must be sure to have a good helme-man, that can
stirre [steer] steady, taking some marke of a Cloude
that is above by the Horizon, or by the shadowe of the
Sunne, or by your standing still, take some marke of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_306" id="Page_306">[306]</a></span>
the other shippe through some hole, or any such other
like. Then he that giveth levell [takes aim] must observe
this: first consider what disparte his piece must have,
then lay the peece directly with that parte of the Shippe
that he doth meane to shoote at: then if the Shippe bee
under the lee side of your Shippe, shoote your peece in
the comming downe of the Gayle, and the beginning of
the other Ship to rise upon the Sea, as near as you can,
for this cause, for when the other shippe is aloft upon
the Sea, and shee under your Lee, the Gayle maketh
her for to head, and then it is likest to do much good."</p>

<p>The helmsman also was to have an eye to the enemy,
to luff when she luffed, and "putte roomer," or sail large,
when he saw her helmsman put the helm up. If the
enemy made signs that she was about to lay the ship
aboard, either by loosing more sail, or altering her course,
the gunner had to remember certain things.</p>

<p>"If the one doe meane to lay the other aboorde, then
they do call up their company either for to enter or
to defend: and first, if that they doe meane for to enter
... then marke where that you doe see anye Scottles
for to come uppe at, as they will stande neere thereaboutes,
to the intente for to be readie, for to come uppe under
the Scottles: there give levell with your Fowlers, or
Slinges, or Bases, for there you shall be sure to do moste
good, then further more, if you doe meane for to enter
him, then give level with your fowlers and Port peeces,
where you doe see his chiefest fight of his Shippe is,
and especially be sure to have them charged, and to
shoote them off at the first boording of the Shippes, for
then you shall be sure to speede. And furthermore,
mark where his men have most recourse, then discharge
your Fowlers and Bases. And furthermore for the annoyance
of your enemie, if that at the boording that the
Shippes lye therefore you may take away their steeradge<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_307" id="Page_307">[307]</a></span>
with one of your great peeces, that is to shoote at his
Rother, and furthermore at his mayne maste and so
foorth."</p>

<p>The ordering of cannon on board a ship was a matter
which demanded a nice care. The gunner had to see
that the carriages were so made as to allow the guns
to lie in the middle of the port. The carriage wheels,
or trocks, were not to be too high, for if they were too
high they hindered the mariners, when they ran the
cannon out in action (<i>Norton</i>, <i>Moore</i>, <i>Bourne</i>, <i>Monson</i>).
Moreover, if the wheels were very large, and the ship
were heeled over, the wheel rims would grind the ship's
side continually, unless large skids were fitted to them.
And if the wheels were large they gave a greater fierceness
to the impetus of the recoil, when the piece was
fired. The ports were to be rather "deepe uppe and
downe" than broad in the traverse, and it was very
necessary that the lower port-sill should not be too
far from the deck, "for then the carriage muste bee
made verye hygh, and that is verye evill" (<i>Bourne</i>). The
short cannon were placed low down, at the ship's side,
because short cannon were more easily run in, and secured,
when the ports were closed, owing to the ship's heeling,
or the rising of the sea. A short gun, projecting its
muzzle through the port, was also less likely to catch
the outboard tackling of the sails, such as "Sheetes and
Tackes, or the Bolynes." And for these reasons any very
long guns were placed astern, or far forward, as bow, or
stern chasers. It was very necessary that the guns
placed at the stern should be long guns, for the tall
poops of the galleons overhung the sea considerably. If
the gun, fired below the overhang, did not project beyond
the woodwork, it was liable to "blowe up the Counter
of the Shyppes Sterne," to the great detriment of gilt
and paint. Some ships cut their stern ports down to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_308" id="Page_308">[308]</a></span>
the deck, and continued the deck outboard, by a projecting
platform. The guns were run out on to this
platform, so that the muzzles cleared the overhang.
These platforms were the originals of the quarter-galleries,
in which, some centuries later, the gold-laced
admirals took the air (<i>Bourne</i>).</p>

<p>Sir Jonas Moore, who published a translation of
Moretti's book on artillery, in 1683, added to his chapters
some matter relating to sea-gunners, from the French
of Denis Furnier.</p>

<p>"The Gunner, whom they call in the <i>Straights Captain</i>,
<i>Master-Canoneer</i>, and in <i>Bretagne</i> and <i>Spain</i>, and in
other places <i>Connestable</i>, is one of the principal Officers
in the Ship; it is he alone with the Captain who can
command the Gunners. He ought to be a man of
courage, experience, and vigilant, who knows the goodness
of a Peece of Ordnance, the force of Powder, and
who also knows how to mount a Peece of Ordnance
upon its carriage, and to furnish it with Bolts, Plates,
Hooks, Capsquares [to fit over the Trunnions on which
the gun rested] Axletrees and Trucks, and that may
not reverse too much; to order well its Cordage as
Breeching [which stopped the recoil] and Tackling [by
which it was run out or in]; to plant the Cannon to
purpose in the middle of its Port; to know how to
unclow<a name="FNanchor_22_22" id="FNanchor_22_22"></a><a href="#Footnote_22_22" class="fnanchor">[22]</a> it [cast it loose for action], make ready his
Cartridges, and to have them ready to pass from hand
to hand through the Hatches, and to employ his most
careful men in that affair; that he have care of all, that,
he be ready everywhere to assist where necessity shall
be; and take care that all be made to purpose.</p>

<p>"He and his Companions [the gunner's mates] ought<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_309" id="Page_309">[309]</a></span>
with their dark Lanthornes continually to see if the Guns
play, and if the Rings in Ships do not shake." (That
is, a strict watch was to be kept, at night, when at sea
in stormy weather, to see that the cannon did not work
or break loose, and that the ring-bolts remained firm in
their places.)</p>

<p>"If there be necessity of more Cordage, and to see
that the Beds and Coins be firm and in good order;
when the Ship comes to Anker, he furnisheth Cordage,
and takes care that all his Companions take their turn
[stand their watch] and quarters, that continually every
evening they renew their priming Powder [a horn of
fine dry powder poured into the touch-holes of loaded
cannon, to communicate the fire to the charge], and all
are obliged to visit their Cannon Powder every eight
dayes, to see if it hath not receiv'd wet, although they
be well stopped a top with Cork and Tallow; to see
that the Powder-Room be kept neat and clean, and the
Cartridges ranged in good order, each nature or Calibre
by itself, and marked above in great Letters the weight
of the Powder and nature of the Peece to which it
belongs, and to put the same mark over the Port-hole
of the Peece; that the Linstocks [<i>or forked staves of wood,
about two and a half feet long, on which the match was
carried</i>] be ready, and furnished with Match [<i>or cotton
thread, boiled in ashes-lye and powder, and kept smouldering,
with a red end, when in use</i>], and to have alwaies one
lighted, and where the Cannoneer makes his Quarter
to have two one above another below [<i>this last passage
is a little obscure, but we take it to mean that at night,
when the gunner slept in his cabin, a lighted match was
to be beside him, but that in the gun-decks below and above
his cabin (which was in the half-deck) lit matches were
to be kept ready for immediate use, by those who kept watch</i>],
that his Granadoes [<i>black clay, or thick glass bottles,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_310" id="Page_310">[310]</a></span>
filled with priming powder, and fired by a length of tow,
well soaked in saltpetre water</i>] and Firepots [<i>balls of
hard tar, sulphur-meal and rosin, kneaded together and
fired by a priming of bruised powder</i>] be in readiness, and
3 or 400 Cartridges ready fill'd, Extrees [?] and Trucks
[<i>wheels</i>] to turn often over the Powder Barrels that the
Powder do not spoil; to have a care of Rings [<i>ring-bolts</i>]
and of the Ports [he here means port-lids] that they have
their Pins and small Rings."</p>

<p>Sir William Monson adds that the gunner was to
acquaint himself with the capacities of every known sort
of firearm, likely to be used at sea. He also gives some
professional hints for the guidance of gunners. He tells
us (and Sir Richard Hawkins confirms him) that no sea-cannon
ought to be more than seven or eight feet long;
that they ought not to be taper-bored, nor honey-combed
within the bore, and that English ordnance, the best in
Europe, was sold in his day for twelve pounds a ton.</p>

<p>In Boteler's time the gunner commanded a gang, or
crew, who ate and slept in the gun-room, which seems
in those days to have been the magazine. He had to
keep a careful account of the expenditure of his munitions,
and had orders "not to make any shot without
the Knowledge and order of the captain."</p>

<div class="blockquot"><p><i>Authorities.</i>&mdash;N. Boteler: "Six Dialogues." W. Bourne: "The Art
of Shooting in Great Ordnance"; "Regiment for the Sea"; "Mariner's
Guide." Sir W. Monson: "Naval Tracts." Sir Jonas Moore. R. Norton:
"The Gunner." John Roberts: "Complete Cannoneer."</p></div>



<hr class="chapter" />
<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_311" id="Page_311">[311]</a></span></p>
<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XVIII" id="CHAPTER_XVIII"></a>CHAPTER XVIII</h2>

<h3>THE SHIP'S COMPANY</h3>

<div class="blockquot"><p>Captain&mdash;Master&mdash;Lieutenant&mdash;Warrant officers&mdash;Duties and
privileges</p></div>


<p>By comparing Sir Richard Hawkins' "Observations"
and Sir W. Monson's "Tracts" with Nicolas Boteler's
"Dialogical Discourses," we find that the duties of ship's
officers changed hardly at all from the time of the Armada
to the death of James I. Indeed they changed hardly at
all until the coming of the steamship. In modern sailing
ships the duties of some of the supernumeraries are almost
exactly as they were three centuries ago.</p>

<p>The captain was the supreme head of the ship, empowered
to displace any inferior officer except the master
(<i>Monson</i>). He was not always competent to navigate
(<i>ibid.</i>), but as a rule he had sufficient science to check
the master's calculations. He was expected to choose his
own lieutenant (<i>ibid.</i>), to keep a muster-book, and a
careful account of the petty officer's stores (<i>Monson</i> and
<i>Sir Richard Hawkins</i>), and to punish any offences committed
by his subordinates.</p>

<p>A lieutenant seems to have been unknown in ships of
war until the early seventeenth century. He ranked
above the master, and acted as the captain's proxy, or
ambassador, "upon any occasion of Service" (<i>Monson</i>).
In battle he commanded on the forecastle, and in the
forward half of the ship. He was restrained from meddling
with the master's duties, lest "Mischiefs and factions"
should ensue. Boteler adds that a lieutenant ought not<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_312" id="Page_312">[312]</a></span>
to be "too fierce in his Way at first ... but to carry
himself with Moderation and Respect to the Master
Gunner, Boatswain, and the other Officers."</p>

<p>The master was the ship's navigator, responsible for
the performance of "the ordinary Labours in the ship."
He took the height of the sun or stars "with his Astrolabe,
Backstaff or Jacob's-staff" (<i>Boteler</i>). He saw that the
watches were kept at work, and had authority to punish
misdemeanants (<i>Monson</i>). Before he could hope for
employment he had to go before the authorities at Trinity
House, to show his "sufficiency" in the sea arts (<i>Monson</i>).</p>

<p>The pilot, or coaster, was junior to the master; but
when he was bringing the vessel into port, or over sands,
or out of danger, the master had no authority to interfere
with him (<i>Monson</i>). He was sometimes a permanent
official, acting as junior navigator when the ship was out
of soundings (<i>Hawkins</i>), but more generally he was employed
temporarily, as at present, to bring a ship into or
out of port (<i>Monson</i> and <i>Boteler</i>).</p>

<p>The ship's company was drilled by a sort of junior
lieutenant (<i>Boteler</i>), known as the corporal, who was something
between a master-at-arms and a captain of marines.
He had charge of the small arms, and had to see to it that
the bandoliers for the musketmen were always filled with
dry cartridges, and that the muskets and "matches" were
kept neat and ready for use in the armoury (<i>Monson</i>). He
drilled the men in the use of their small arms, and also
acted as muster master at the setting and relieving of the
watch.</p>

<p>The gunner, whose duties we have described at length,
was privileged to alter the ship's course in action, and may
even have taken command during a chase, or running
fight. He was assisted by his mates, who commanded the
various batteries while in action, and aimed and fired
according to his directions.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_313" id="Page_313">[313]</a></span></p>

<p>The boatswain, the chief seaman of the crew, was
generally an old sailor who had been much at sea, and
knew the whole art of seamanship. He had charge of all
the sea-stores, and "all the Ropes belonging to the Rigging
[more especially the fore-rigging], all her Cables, and
Anchors; all her Sayls, all her Flags, Colours, and
Pendants;<a name="FNanchor_23_23" id="FNanchor_23_23"></a><a href="#Footnote_23_23" class="fnanchor">[23]</a> and so to stand answerable for them" (<i>Boteler</i>).
He was captain of the long boat, which was stowed on
the booms or spare spars between the fore and main
masts. He had to keep her guns clean, her oars, mast,
sails, stores, and water ready for use, and was at all times
to command and steer her when she left the ship
(<i>Hawkins</i>). He carried a silver whistle, or call, about his
neck, which he piped in various measures before repeating
the master's orders (<i>Monson</i>). The whistle had a ball at
one end, and was made curved, like a letter S laid
sideways. The boatswain, when he had summoned all
hands to their duty, was expected to see that they worked
well. He kept them quiet, and "at peace one with
another," probably by knocking together the heads of
those disposed to quarrel. Lastly, he was the ship's
executioner, his mates acting as assistants, and at his
hands, under the supervision of the marshal, the crew
received their "red-checked shirts," and such bilboed
solitude as the captain might direct.</p>

<p>The coxswain was the commander of the captain's
row barge which he had to keep clean, freshly painted
and gilded, and fitted with the red and white flag&mdash;"and
when either the Captain or any Person of Fashion is to
use the Boat, or be carryed too and again from the Ship,
he is to have the Boat trimmed with her Cushions and
Carpet and himself is to be ready to steer her out of
her Stern [in the narrow space behind the back board
of the stern-sheets] and with his Whistle to chear up<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_314" id="Page_314">[314]</a></span>
and direct his Gang of Rowers, and to keep them together
when they are to wait: and this is the lowest Officer in a
Ship, that is allowed to carry a Whistle" (<i>Boteler</i>). The
coxswain had to stay in his barge when she towed astern
at sea, and his office, therefore, was often very wretched,
from the cold and wet. He had to see that his boat's
crew were at all times clean in their persons, and dressed
alike, in as fine a livery as could be managed (<i>Monson</i>).
He was to choose them from the best men in the ship,
from the "able and handsome men" (<i>Monson</i>). He had
to instruct them to row together, and to accustom the
port oarsmen to pull starboard from time to time. He
also kept his command well caulked, and saw the chocks
and skids secure when his boat was hoisted to the deck.</p>

<p>The quartermasters and their mates had charge of
the hold (<i>Monson</i>), and kept a sort of check upon the
steward in his "delivery of the Victuals to the Cook,
and in his pumping and drawing of the Beer" (<i>Boteler</i>).
In far later times they seem to have been a rating of
elderly and sober seamen who took the helm, two and
two together, in addition to their other duties. In the
Elizabethan ship they superintended the stowage of the
ballast, and were in charge below, over the ballast shifters,
when the ships were laid on their sides to be scraped
and tallowed. They also had to keep a variety of fish
hooks ready, in order to catch any fish, such as sharks
or bonitos.</p>

<p>The purser was expected to be "an able Clerk"
(<i>Monson</i>) for he had to keep an account of all provisions
received from the victualler. He kept the ship's muster-book,
with some account of every man borne upon it.
He made out passes, or pay-tickets for discharged men
(<i>ibid.</i>), and, according to <i>Boteler</i>, he was able "to purse
up roundly for himself" by dishonest dealing. The purser
(<i>Boteler</i> says the cook) received 6d. a month from every<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_315" id="Page_315">[315]</a></span>
seaman, for "Wooden Dishes, Cans, Candles, Lanthorns,
and Candlesticks for the Hold" (<i>Monson</i>). It was also
his office to superintend the steward, in the serving out
of the provisions and other necessaries to the crew.</p>

<p>The steward was the purser's deputy (<i>Monson</i>). He
had to receive "the full Mass of Victual of all kinds,"
and see it well stowed in the hold, the heavy things
below, the light things up above (<i>Boteler</i>). He had
charge of all the candles, of which those old dark ships
used a prodigious number. He kept the ship's biscuits
or bread, in the bread-room, a sort of dark cabin below
the gun-deck. He lived a life of comparative retirement,
for there was a "several part in the Hold, which is called
the Steward's room, where also he Sleeps and Eats"
(<i>Boteler</i>). He weighed out the provisions for the crew,
"to the several Messes in the Ship," and was cursed, no
doubt, by every mariner, for a cheating rogue in league
with the purser. Though Hawkins tells us that it was
his duty "with discretion and good tearmes to give
satisfaction to all."</p>

<p>The cook did his office in a cook-room, or galley, placed
in the forecastle or "in the Hatchway upon the first
Orlope" (<i>Boteler</i>). The floor of the galley was not at
that time paved with brick or stone, as in later days, and
now. It was therefore very liable to take fire, especially
in foul weather, when the red embers were shaken from
the ash-box of the range. It was the cook's duty to take
the provisions from the steward, both flesh and fish, and
to cook them, by boiling, until they were taken from him
(<i>Monson</i>). It was the cook's duty to steep the salt meat
in water for some days before using, as the meat was
thus rendered tender and fit for human food (<i>Smith</i>).
He had the rich perquisite of the ship's fat, which went
into his slush tubs, to bring him money from the candlemakers.
The firewood he used was generally green, if<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_316" id="Page_316">[316]</a></span>
not wet, so that when he lit his fire of a morning, he
fumigated the fo'c's'le with bitter smoke. It was his duty
to pour water on his fire as soon as the guns were cast
loose for battle. Every day, for the saving of firewood,
and for safety, he had to extinguish his fire directly the
dinner had been cooked, nor was he allowed to relight it,
"but in case of necessity, as ... when the Cockswain's
Gang came wet aboard" (<i>Monson</i>). He would allow his
cronies in the forenoons to dry their wet gear at his fire,
and perhaps allow them, in exchange for a bite or sup,
to cook any fish they caught, or heat a can of drink.</p>

<p>Another supernumerary was the joiner, a rating only
carried in the seventeenth century on great ships with
much fancy work about the poop. He it was who
repaired the gilt carvings in the stern-works, and made
the bulkheads for the admiral's cabin. He was a
decorator and beautifier, not unlike the modern painter,
but he was to be ready at all times to knock up lockers
for the crew, to make boxes and chests for the gunner, and
bulkheads, of thin wood, to replace those broken by the
seas. As a rule the work of the joiner was done by the
carpenter, a much more important person, who commanded
some ten or twelve junior workmen. The
carpenter was trusted with the pumps, both hand and
chain, and with the repairing of the woodwork throughout
the vessel. He had to be super-excellent in his profession,
for a wooden ship was certain to tax his powers. She was
always out of repair, always leaking, always springing her
spars. In the summer months, if she were not being
battered by the sea, she was getting her timber split
by cannon-shot. In the winter months, when laid up
and dismantled in the dockyard, she was certain to need
new planks, beams, inner fittings and spars (<i>Hawkins</i>).
The carpenter had to do everything for her, often with
grossly insufficient means, and it was of paramount<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_317" id="Page_317">[317]</a></span>
importance that his work-room in the orlop should be
fitted with an excellent tool chest. He had to provide
the "spare Pieces of Timber wherewith to make Fishes,
for to strengthen and succour the Masts." He had to
superintend the purchase of a number of spare yards,
already tapered, and bound with iron, to replace those
that "should chance to be broken." He was to see these
lashed to the ship's sides, within board, or stopped in the
rigging (<i>Monson</i> and <i>Boteler</i>). He had to have all manner
of gudgeons for the rudder, every sort of nuts or washers
for the pumps, and an infinity of oakum, sheet lead, soft
wood, spare canvas, tallow, and the like, with which to
stop leaks, or to caulk the seams. In his stores he took
large quantities of lime, horse hair, alum, and thin felt
with which to wash and sheathe the ship's bottom planking
(<i>Monson</i>). The alum was often dissolved in water,
and splashed over spars and sails, before a battle, as it
was supposed to render them non-inflammable. It was
his duty, moreover, to locate leaks, either by observing the
indraught (which was a tedious way), or by placing his ear
to a little earthen pot inverted against one of the planks
in the hold. This little pot caused him to hear the water
as it gurgled in, and by moving it to and fro he could
locate the hole with considerable certainty (<i>Boteler</i>). He
had to rig the pumps for the sailors, and to report to the
captain the depth of water the ship made daily. The
pumps were of two kinds, one exactly like that in use on
shore, the other, of the same principle, though more
powerful. The second kind was called the chain-pump,
because "these Pumps have a Chain of Burs going in a
Wheel." They were worked with long handles, called
brakes (because they broke sailor's hearts), and some ten
men might pump at one spell. The water was discharged
on to the deck, which was slightly rounded, so that it ran
to the ship's side, into a graved channel called the trough,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_318" id="Page_318">[318]</a></span>
or scuppers, from which it fell overboard through the
scupper-holes, bored through the ship's side. These
scupper-holes were bored by the carpenter. They slanted
obliquely downwards and were closed outside by a hinged
flap of leather, which opened to allow water to escape, and
closed to prevent water from entering (<i>Maynwaring</i>).
Each deck had a number of scupper-holes, but they
were all of small size. There was nothing to take the
place of the big swinging-ports fitted to modern iron
sailing ships, to allow the green seas to run overboard.</p>

<p>The cooper was another important supernumerary. He
had to oversee the stowing of all the casks, and to make,
or repair, or rehoop, such casks as had to be made or
repaired. He had to have a special eye to the great water
casks, that they did not leak; binding them securely with
iron hoops, and stowing them with dunnage, so that they
might not shift. He was put in charge of watering parties,
to see the casks filled at the springs, to fit them, when
full, with their bungs, and to superintend their embarkation
and stowage (<i>Monson</i> and <i>Boteler</i>).</p>

<p>The trumpeter was an attendant upon the captain,
and had to sound his silver trumpet when that great man
entered or left the ship (<i>Monson</i>). "Also when you hale
a ship, when you charge, board, or enter her; and the
Poop is his place to stand or sit upon." If the ship carried
a "noise," that is a band, "they are to attend him, if there
be not, every one he doth teach to bear a part, the Captain
is to encourage him, by increasing his Shares, or pay, and
give the Master Trumpeter a reward." When a prince,
or an admiral, came on board, the trumpeter put on a
tabard, of brilliant colours, and hung his silver instrument
with a heavy cloth of the same. He was to blow a blast
from the time the visitor was sighted until his barge came
within 100 fathoms of the ship. "At what time the
Trumpets are to cease, and all such as carry Whistles are<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_319" id="Page_319">[319]</a></span>
to Whistle his Welcome three several times." As the gilt
and gorgeous row boat drew alongside, the trumpets
sounded a point of welcome, and had then to stand about
the cabin door, playing their best, while the great man ate
his sweetmeats. As he rowed away again, the trumpeter,
standing on the poop, blew out "A loath to depart," a sort
of ancient "good-bye, fare you well," such as sailors sing
nowadays as they get their anchors for home. In battle
the trumpeter stood upon the poop, dressed in his glory,
blowing brave blasts to hearten up the gunners. In hailing
a friendly ship, in any meeting on the seas, it was
customary to "salute with Whistles and Trumpets, and
the Ship's Company give a general shout on both sides."
When the anchor was weighed, the trumpeter sounded
a merry music, to cheer the workers. At dinner each
night he played in the great cabin, while the captain
drank his wine. At the setting and discharging of the
watch he had to sound a solemn point, for which duty he
received an extra can of beer (<i>Monson</i> and <i>Boteler</i>).</p>

<p>The crew, or mariners, were divided into able seamen,
ordinary seamen, grummets, or cabin-boys, ship-boys and
swabbers. Swabbers were the weakest men of the crew;
men, who were useless aloft, or at the guns, and therefore
set to menial and dirty duties. They were the ship's
scavengers, and had much uncleanly business to see to.
Linschoten, describing a Portuguese ship's company,
dismisses them with three contemptuous words, "the
swabers pump"; but alas, that was but the first duty of
your true swabber. Boteler, writing in the reign of James
I., gives him more than half-a-page, as follows:&mdash;</p>

<p>"The Office of the Swabber is to see the Ship Kept
neat and clean, and that as well in the great Cabbin as
everywhere else betwixt the Decks; to which end he is,
at the least once or twice a week, if not every day, to
cause the Ship to be well washed within Board and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_320" id="Page_320">[320]</a></span>
without above Water, and especially about the Gunwalls
[Gunwales or gunnels, over which the guns once
pointed] and the Chains and for prevention of Infection,
to burn sometimes Pitch, or the like wholsom perfumes,
between the Decks: He is also to have a regard to every
private Man's Sleeping-place; (to clean the cabins of the
petty officers in the nether orlop), and to admonish them
all in general [it being dangerous perhaps, in a poor
swabber, to admonish in particular] to be cleanly and
handsom, and to complain to the Captain, of all such
as will be any way nastie and offensive that way. Surely,
if this Swabber doth thoroughly take care to discharge
this his charge I easily believe that he may have his
hands full, and especially if there chance to be any number
of Landmen aboard."</p>

<p>Under the swabber there was a temporary rate known
as the liar. He had to keep the ship clean "without
board," in the head, chains, and elsewhere. He held his
place but for a week. "He that is first taken with a Lie
upon a <i>Monday</i> morning, is proclaimed at the Main-Mast
with a general Crie, <i>a Liar, a Liar, a Liar</i>, and for that
week he is under the Swabber" (<i>Monson</i>).</p>

<p>The able seamen, or oldest and most experienced hands,
did duty about the decks and guns, in the setting up and
preservation of the rigging, and in the trimming of the
braces, sheets, and bowlines. The ordinary seamen,
younkers, grummets, and ship-boys, did the work aloft,
furled and loosed the sails, and did the ordinary, never-ceasing
work of sailors. They stood "watch and watch"
unless the weather made it necessary for all to be on
deck, and frequently they passed four hours of each day
in pumping the leakage from the well. They wore no
uniform, but perhaps some captains gave a certain uniformity
to the clothes of their crews by taking slop
chests to sea, and selling clothes of similar patterns to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_321" id="Page_321">[321]</a></span>
the seamen. In the navy, where the crews were pressed,
the clothes worn must have been of every known cut
and fashion, though no doubt all the pressed men contrived
to get tarred canvas coats before they had been
many days aboard.</p>

<p>The bodies and souls of the seamen were looked after;
a chaplain being carried for the one, and a chirurgeon, or
doctor, for the other. The chaplain had to read prayers
twice or thrice daily, to the whole ship's company, who
stood or knelt reverently as he read. He had to lead
in the nightly psalms, to reprove all evil-doers, and to
exhort the men to their duty. Especially was he to
repress all blasphemy and swearing. He was to celebrate
the Holy Communion whenever it was most convenient.
He was to preach on Sunday, to visit the sick; and, in
battle, to console the wounded. Admirals, and peers in
command of ships, had the privilege of bringing to sea
their own private chaplains.</p>

<p>The chirurgeon had to bring on board his own instruments
and medicines, and to keep them ready to hand
in his cabin beneath the gun-deck, out of all possible
reach of shot. He was expected to know his business,
and to know the remedies for those ailments peculiar to
the lands for which the ship intended. He had to produce
a certificate from "able men of his profession," to show
that he was fit to be employed. An assistant, or servant,
was allowed him, and neither he, nor his servant did any
duty outside the chirurgeon's province (<i>Monson</i>).</p>



<hr class="chapter" />
<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_322" id="Page_322">[322]</a></span></p>
<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XIX" id="CHAPTER_XIX"></a>CHAPTER XIX</h2>

<h3>THE CHOOSING OF WATCHES</h3>

<div class="blockquot"><p>The petty tally&mdash;Food&mdash;Work&mdash;Punishments</p></div>


<p>As soon as an ancient ship of war was fitted for the
sea, with her guns on board, and mounted, her
sails bent, her stores and powder in the hold, her water
filled, her ballast trimmed, and the hands aboard, some
"steep-tubs" were placed in the chains for the steeping
of the salt provisions, "till the salt be out though not the
saltness." The anchor was then weighed to a note of
music. The "weeping Rachells and mournefull Niobes"
were set packing ashore. The colours were run up and
a gun fired. The foresail was loosed. The cable rubbed
down as it came aboard (so that it might not be faked
into the tiers wet or dirty). The boat was hoisted inboard.
The master "took his departure," by observing the bearing
of some particular point of land, as the Mew Stone, the
Start, the Lizard, etc. Every man was bidden to "say
his private prayer for a bonne voyage." The anchor
was catted and fished. Sails were set and trimmed. Ropes
were coiled down clear for running, and the course laid
by the master.</p>

<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;">
<a name="img384" id="img384"></a>
<a href="https://brian.carnell.com/wiki/_media/etext:j:john-masefield-on-the-spanish-main-384.jpg"><img src="https://brian.carnell.com/wiki/_media/etext:j:john-masefield-on-the-spanish-main-384_th.jpg" width="400" height="270"
alt="THE SOVEREIGN OF THE SEAS; CIRCA 1630"
title="THE SOVEREIGN OF THE SEAS" /></a>
<span class="caption">THE SOVEREIGN OF THE SEAS<br />
CIRCA 1630</span>
</div>

<p>The captain or master then ordered the boatswain
"to call up the company," just as all hands are mustered
on modern sailing ships at the beginning of a voyage.
The master "being Chief of the Starboard Watch" would
then look over the mariners for a likely man. Having
made his choice he bade the man selected go over to
the starboard side, while the commander of the port-watch<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_323" id="Page_323">[323]</a></span>
made his choice. When all the men had been chosen,
and the crew "divided into two parts," then each man
was bidden to choose "his Mate, Consort or Comrade."
The bedding arrangements of these old ships were very
primitive. The officers had their bunks or hammocks
in their cabins, but the men seem to have slept wherever
and however they could. Some, no doubt had hammocks,
but the greater number lay in their cloaks between the
guns, on mattresses if they had them. A man shared
his bed and bedding (if he had any) with his "Mate,
Consort, or Comrade," so that the one bed and bedding
served for the pair. One of the two friends was always
on deck while the other slept. In some ships at the
present time the forecastles are fitted with bunks for
only half the number of seamen carried, so that the
practice is not yet dead. The boatswain, with all "the
Younkers or Common Sailors" then went forward of the
main-mast to take up their quarters between decks. The
captain, master's mates, gunners, carpenters, quartermasters,
etc., lodged abaft the main-mast "in their severall
Cabbins." The next thing to be done was the arrangement
of the ship's company into messes, "four to a mess,"
after which the custom was to "give every messe a quarter
Can of beere and a bisket of bread to stay their stomacks
till the kettle be boiled." In the first dog-watch, from
4 to 6 <span class="smcap lowercase">P.M.</span>, all hands went to prayers about the main-mast,
and from their devotions to supper. At 6 <span class="smcap lowercase">P.M.</span> the company
met again to sing a psalm, and say their prayers,
before the setting of the night watch; this psalm singing
being the prototype of the modern sea-concert, or singsong.
At 8 <span class="smcap lowercase">P.M.</span> the first night watch began, lasting until
midnight, during which four hours half the ship's company
were free to sleep. At midnight the sleepers were
called on deck, to relieve the watch. The watches were
changed as soon as the muster had been called and a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_324" id="Page_324">[324]</a></span>
psalm sung, and a prayer offered. They alternated thus
throughout the twenty-four hours, each watch having
four hours below, after four hours on deck, unless "some
flaw of winde come, some storm or gust, or some accident
that requires the help of all hands." In these cases the
whole ship's company remained on deck until the work
was done, or until the master discharged the watch below.<a name="FNanchor_24_24" id="FNanchor_24_24"></a><a href="#Footnote_24_24" class="fnanchor">[24]</a>
The decks were washed down by the swabbers every
morning, before the company went to breakfast. After
breakfast the men went about their ordinary duties, cleaning
the ship, mending rigging, or working at the thousand
odd jobs the sailing of a ship entails. The tops were
always manned by lookouts, who received some small
reward if they spied a prize. The guns were sometimes
exercised, and all hands trained to general quarters.</p>

<p>A few captains made an effort to provide for the comfort
of their men by laying in a supply of "bedding,
linnen, arms<a name="FNanchor_25_25" id="FNanchor_25_25"></a><a href="#Footnote_25_25" class="fnanchor">[25]</a> and apparel." In some cases they also
provided what was called the petty tally, or store of
medical comforts. "The Sea-man's Grammar" of Captain
John Smith, from which we have been quoting, tells us
that the petty tally contained:</p>

<p>"Fine wheat flower close and well-packed, Rice, Currants,
Sugar, Prunes, Cynamon, Ginger, Pepper, Cloves, Green
Ginger, Oil, Butter, Holland cheese or old Cheese, Wine-Vinegar,
Canarie-Sack, Aqua-vit&aelig;, the best Wines, the
best Waters, the juyce of Limons for the scurvy, white
Bisket, Oatmeal, Gammons of Bacons, dried Neats
tongues, Beef packed up in Vineger, Legs of Mutton
minced and stewed, and close packed up, with tried Sewet
or Butter in earthen Pots. To entertain Strangers
Marmalade, Suckets, Almonds, Comfits and such like."</p>

<p>"Some," says the author of this savoury list, "will say<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_325" id="Page_325">[325]</a></span>
I would have men rather to feast than to fight. But I
say the want of those necessaries occasions the loss of
more men than in any English Fleet hath been slain since
88. For when a man is ill, or at the point of death, I
would know whether a dish of buttered Rice with a little
Cynamon, Ginger and Sugar, a little minced meat, or
rost Beef, a few stew'd Prunes, a race of green Ginger,
a Flap-jack, a Kan of fresh water brewed with a little
Cynamon and Sugar be not better than a little poor
John, or salt fish, with Oil and Mustard, or Bisket, Butter,
Cheese, or Oatmeal-pottage on Fish-dayes, or on Flesh-dayes,
Salt, Beef, Pork and Pease, with six shillings beer,
this is your ordinary ship's allowance, and good for them
are well if well conditioned [not such bad diet for a healthy
man if of good quality] which is not alwayes as Sea-men
can [too well] witnesse. And after a storme, when poor
men are all wet, and some have not so much as a cloth
to shift them, shaking with cold, few of those but will
tell you a little Sack or Aqua-vit&aelig; is much better to
keep them in health, than a little small Beer, or cold
water although it be sweet. Now that every one should
provide for himself, few of them have either that providence
or means, and there is neither Ale-house, Tavern,
nor Inne to burn a faggot in, neither Grocer, Poulterer,
Apothecary nor Butcher's Shop, and therefore the use
of this petty Tally is necessary, and thus to be employed
as there is occasion."</p>

<p>The entertainment of strangers, with "Almonds, Comfits
and such like," was the duty of a sea-captain, for
"every Commander should shew himself as like himself
as he can," and, "therefore I leave it to their own Discretion,"
to supply suckets for the casual guest. In those
days, when sugar was a costly commodity, a sucket was
more esteemed than now. At sea, when the food was
mostly salt, it must certainly have been a great dainty.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_326" id="Page_326">[326]</a></span></p>

<p>The "allowance" or ration to the men was as follows<a name="FNanchor_26_26" id="FNanchor_26_26"></a><a href="#Footnote_26_26" class="fnanchor">[26]</a>:&mdash;</p>

<p>Each man and boy received one pound of bread or biscuit
daily, with a gallon of beer. The beer was served
out four times daily, a quart at a time, in the morning,
at dinner, in the afternoon, and at supper. On Sundays,
Mondays, Tuesdays and Thursdays, which were flesh
days, the allowance of meat was either one pound of
salt beef, or one pound of salt pork with pease. On
Wednesdays and Saturdays, a side of salt-fish, ling,
haberdine, or cod, was divided between the members of
each mess, while a seven-ounce ration of butter (or olive
oil) and a fourteen-ounce ration of cheese, was served to
each man. On Fridays, or fast days, this allowance was
halved. At one time the sailors were fond of selling
or playing away their rations, but this practice was
stopped in the reign of Elizabeth, and the men forced
to take their food "orderly and in due season" under
penalties. Prisoners taken during the cruise were allowed
two-thirds of the above allowance.</p>

<p>The allowance quoted above appears liberal, but it must
be remembered that the sailors were messed "six upon
four," and received only two-thirds of the full ration. The
quality of the food was very bad. The beer was the very
cheapest of small beer, and never kept good at sea, owing
to the continual motion of the ship. It became acid, and
induced dysentery in those who drank it, though it was
sometimes possible to rebrew it after it had once gone
sour. The water, which was carried in casks, was also
far from wholesome. After storing, for a day or two, it
generally became offensive, so that none could drink it.
In a little while this offensiveness passed off, and it might
then be used, though the casks bred growths of an unpleasant
sliminess, if the water remained in them for more
than a month. However water was not regarded as a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_327" id="Page_327">[327]</a></span>
drink for human beings until the beer was spent. The
salt meat was as bad as the beer, or worse. Often
enough the casks were filled with lumps of bone and fat
which were quite uneatable, and often the meat was so
lean, old, dry and shrivelled that it was valueless as food.
The victuallers often killed their animals in the heat of
the summer, when the meat would not take salt, so that
many casks must have been unfit for food after lying for
a week in store. Anti-scorbutics were supplied, or not
supplied, at the discretion of the captains. It appears
that the sailors disliked innovations in their food, and
rejected the substitution of beans, flour "and those white
Meats as they are called" for the heavy, and innutritious
pork and beef. Sailors were always great sticklers for
their "Pound and Pint," and Boteler tells us that in the
early seventeenth century "the common Sea-men with
us, are so besotted on their Beef and Pork, as they had
rather adventure on all the Calentures, and Scarbots
[scurvy] in the World, than to be weaned from their
Customary Diet, or so much as to lose the least Bit
of it."</p>

<p>The salt-fish ration was probably rather better than the
meat, but the cheese was nearly always very bad, and of
an abominable odour. The butter was no better than
the cheese. It was probably like so much train-oil. The
bread or biscuit which was stowed in bags in the bread-room
in the hold, soon lost its hardness at sea, becoming
soft and wormy, so that the sailors had to eat it in the
dark. The biscuits, or cakes of bread, seem to have been
current coin with many of the West Indian natives. In
those ships where flour was carried, in lieu of biscuit, as
sometimes happened in cases of emergency, the men
received a ration of doughboy, a sort of dumpling of
wetted flour boiled with pork fat. This was esteemed a
rare delicacy either eaten plain or with butter.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_328" id="Page_328">[328]</a></span></p>

<p>This diet was too lacking in variety, and too destitute
of anti-scorbutics to support the mariners in health. The
ships in themselves were insanitary, and the crews
suffered very much from what they called calentures,
(or fevers such as typhus and typhoid), and the scurvy.
The scurvy was perhaps the more common ailment, as
indeed it is to-day. It is now little dreaded, for its
nature is understood, and guarded against. In the sixteenth,
seventeenth, and eighteenth centuries, it killed
its thousands, owing to the ignorance and indifference
of responsible parties, and to other causes such as the
construction of the ships and the length of the voyages.
A salt diet, without fresh vegetables, and without variety,
is a predisposing cause of scurvy. Exposure to cold and
wet, and living in dirty surroundings are also predisposing
causes. The old wooden ships were seldom very clean,
and never dry, and when once the scurvy took hold it
generally raged until the ship reached port, where fresh
provisions could be purchased. A wooden ship was never
quite dry, in any weather, for the upper-deck planks, and
the timbers of her topsides, could never be so strictly
caulked that no water could leak in. The sea-water
splashed in through the scuppers and through the ports,
or leaked in, a little at a time, through the seams. In
bad weather the lower gun-decks (or all decks below
the spar-deck) were more or less awash, from seas that
had washed down the hatchways. The upper-deck seams
let in the rain, and when once the lower-decks were wet
it was very difficult to dry them. It was impossible to
close the gun-deck ports so as to make them watertight,
for the water would find cracks to come in at, even though
the edges of the lids were caulked with oakum, and the
orifices further barred by deadlights or wooden shutters.
Many of the sailors, as we have seen, were without a
change of clothes, and with no proper sleeping-place, save<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_329" id="Page_329">[329]</a></span>
the wet deck and the wet jackets that they worked in. It
often happened that the gun-ports would be closed for
several weeks together, during which time the gun-decks
became filthy and musty, while the sailors contracted all
manner of cramps and catarrhs. In addition to the wet,
and the discomfort of such a life, there was also the work,
often extremely laborious, incidental to heavy weather at
sea. What with the ceaseless handling of sails and ropes,
in frost and snow and soaking sea-water; and the continual
pumping out of the leaks the rotten seams admitted,
the sailor had little leisure in which to sleep, or to dry
himself. When he left the deck he had only the dark,
wet berth-deck to retire to, a place of bleakness and
misery, where he might share a sopping blanket, if he
had one, with the corpse of a drowned rat and the flotsam
from the different messes. There was no getting dry nor
warm, though the berth-deck might be extremely close
and stuffy from lack of ventilation. The cook-room, or
galley fire would not be lighted, and there would be no
comforting food or drink, nothing but raw meat and
biscuit, and a sup of sour beer. It was not more unpleasant
perhaps than life at sea is to-day, but it was
certainly more dangerous.<a name="FNanchor_27_27" id="FNanchor_27_27"></a><a href="#Footnote_27_27" class="fnanchor">[27]</a> When at last the storm
abated and the sea went down, the ports were opened
and the decks cleaned. The sailors held a general washing-day,
scrubbing the mouldy clothes that had been
soaked so long, and hanging them to dry about the
rigging. Wind-sails or canvas ventilators were rigged,
to admit air to the lowest recesses of the hold. The
decks were scrubbed down with a mixture of vinegar
and sand, and then sluiced with salt water, scraped with
metal scrapers, and dried with swabs and small portable
firepots. Vinegar was carried about the decks in large
iron pots, and converted into vapour by the insertion of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_330" id="Page_330">[330]</a></span>
red-hot metal bars. The swabbers brought pans of burning
pitch or brimstone into every corner, so that the
smoke might penetrate everywhere. But even then the
decks were not wholesome. There were spaces under
the guns which no art could dry, and subtle leaks in
the topsides that none could stop. The hold accumulated
filth, for in many ships the ship's refuse was swept on
to the ballast, where it bred pestilence, typhus fever and
the like. The bilge-water reeked and rotted in the bilges,
filling the whole ship with its indescribable stench.
Beetles, rats and cockroaches bred and multiplied in
the crannies, until (as in Captain Cook's case two centuries
later), they made life miserable for all on board. These
wooden ships were very gloomy abodes, and would have
been so no doubt even had they been dry and warm.
They were dark, and the lower-deck, where most of the
men messed, was worse lit than the decks above it, for
being near to the water-line the ports could seldom be
opened. Only in very fair weather could the sailors have
light and sun below decks. As a rule they ate and slept
in a murky, stuffy atmosphere, badly lighted by candles
in heavy horn lanthorns. The gloom of the ships must
have weighed heavily upon many of the men, and the
depression no doubt predisposed them to scurvy, making
them less attentive to bodily cleanliness, and less ready to
combat the disease when it attacked them. Perhaps some
early sea-captains tried to make the between decks less
gloomy by whitewashing the beams, bulkheads and ship's
sides. In the eighteenth century this seems to have been
practised with success, though perhaps the captains who
tried it were more careful of their hands in other ways, and
the benefit may have been derived from other causes.</p>

<p>Discipline was maintained by some harsh punishments,
designed to "tame the most rude and savage people in
the world." Punishment was inflicted at the discretion<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_331" id="Page_331">[331]</a></span>
of the captain, directly after the hearing of the case, but
the case was generally tried the day after the commission
of the offence, so that no man should be condemned in
hot blood. The most common punishment was that of
flogging, the men being stripped to the waist, tied to
the main-mast or to a capstan bar, and flogged upon
the bare back with a whip or a "cherriliccum." The
boatswain had power to beat the laggards and the ship's
boys with a cane, or with a piece of knotted rope. A
common punishment was to put the offender on half his
allowance, or to stop his meat, or his allowance of wine
or spirits. For more heinous offences there was the very
barbarous punishment of keel-hauling, by which the
victim was dragged from the main yardarm right under
the keel of the ship, across the barnacles, to the yardarm
on the farther side. Those who suffered this
punishment were liable to be cut very shrewdly by the
points of the encrusted shells. Ducking from the main
yardarm was inflicted for stubbornness, laziness, going on
shore without leave, or sleeping while on watch. The
malefactor was brought to the gangway, and a rope
fastened under his arms and about his middle. He was
then hoisted rapidly up to the main yardarm, "from
whence he is violently let fall into the Sea, some times
twice, some times three severall times, one after another"
(<i>Boteler</i>). This punishment, and keel-hauling, were made
more terrible by the discharge of a great gun over the
malefactor's head as he struck the water, "which proveth
much offensive to him" (<i>ibid.</i>). If a man killed another
he was fastened to the corpse and flung overboard (<i>Laws
of Oleron</i>). For drawing a weapon in a quarrel, or in
mutiny, the offender lost his right hand (<i>ibid.</i>). Theft
was generally punished with flogging, but in serious cases
the thief was forced to run the gauntlet, between two
rows of sailors all armed with thin knotted cords. Duck<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_332" id="Page_332">[332]</a></span>ing
from the bowsprit end, towing in a rope astern, and
marooning, were also practised as punishments for the
pilferer. For sleeping on watch there was a graduated
scale. First offenders were soused with a bucket of water.
For the second offence they were tied up by the wrists,
and water was poured down their sleeves. For the third
offence they were tied to the mast, with bags of bullets,
or gun-chambers tied about their arms and necks, until
they were exhausted, or "till their back be ready to
break" (<i>Monson</i>). If they still offended in this kind they
were taken and tied to the bowsprit end, with rations
of beer and bread, and left there with leave to starve
or fall into the sea. Destruction or theft of ships'
property was punished by death. Petty insurrections,
such as complaints of the quality or quantity of the food,
etc., were punished by the bilboes. The bilboes were
iron bars fixed to the deck a little abaft the main-mast.
The prisoner sat upon the deck under a sentry, and his
legs and hands were shackled to the bars with irons of
a weight proportioned to the crime. It was a rule that
none should speak to a man in the bilboes. For
blasphemy and swearing there was "an excellent good
way"<a name="FNanchor_28_28" id="FNanchor_28_28"></a><a href="#Footnote_28_28" class="fnanchor">[28]</a> of forcing the sinner to hold a marline-spike in
his mouth, until his tongue was bloody (<i>Teonge</i>). Dirty
speech was punished in a similar way, and sometimes
the offending tongue was scrubbed with sand and canvas.
We read of two sailors who stole a piece of beef aboard
H.M.S. <i>Assistance</i> in the year 1676.<a name="FNanchor_29_29" id="FNanchor_29_29"></a><a href="#Footnote_29_29" class="fnanchor">[29]</a> Their hands were
tied behind them, and the beef was hung about their
necks, "and the rest of the seamen cam one by one, and
rubd them over the mouth with the raw beife; and in
this posture they stood two howers." Other punishments
were "shooting to death," and hanging at the yardarm.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_333" id="Page_333">[333]</a></span>
"And the Knaveries of the Ship-boys are payd by the
Boat-Swain with the Rod; and commonly this execution
is done upon the Munday Mornings; and is so frequently
in use, that some meer Seamen believe in earnest, that
they shall not have a fair Wind, unless the poor Boys
be duely brought to the Chest, that is, whipped, every
Munday Morning" (<i>Boteler</i>).</p>

<p>Some of these punishments may appear unduly harsh;
but on the whole they were no more cruel than the
punishments usually inflicted ashore. Indeed, if anything
they were rather more merciful.</p>



<hr class="chapter" />
<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_334" id="Page_334">[334]</a></span></p>
<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XX" id="CHAPTER_XX"></a>CHAPTER XX</h2>

<h3>IN ACTION</h3>


<p>In engaging an enemy's ship at sea the custom was
to display the colours from the poop, and to hang
streamers or pennons from the yardarms.<a name="FNanchor_30_30" id="FNanchor_30_30"></a><a href="#Footnote_30_30" class="fnanchor">[30]</a> The spritsail
would then be furled, and the spritsail-yard brought
alongship. The lower yards were slung with chain,
and the important ropes, sheets and braces,<a name="FNanchor_31_31" id="FNanchor_31_31"></a><a href="#Footnote_31_31" class="fnanchor">[31]</a> etc., were
doubled. The bulkheads and wooden cabin walls were
knocked away, or fortified with hammocks or bedding,
to minimise the risk of splinters. The guns were cast
loose and loaded. The powder or cartridge was brought
up in "budge barrels," covered with leather, from the
magazine, and stowed well away from the guns, either
in amidships, or on that side of the ship not directly
engaged. Tubs of water were placed between the guns
with blankets soaking in them for the smothering of
any fire that might be caused. Other tubs were filled
with "vinegar water or what we have" for the sponging
of the guns. The hatches leading to the hold were taken
up, so that no man should desert his post during the
engagement. The light sails were furled, and in some
cases sent down on deck. The magazines were opened,
and hung about with wet blankets to prevent sparks
from entering. Shot was sent to the shot-lockers on
deck. Sand was sprinkled on the planking to give a
greater firmness to the foothold of the men at the guns.
The gunner and his mates went round the batteries to
make sure that all was ready. The caps, or leaden plates,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_335" id="Page_335">[335]</a></span>
were taken from the touch-holes, and the priming powder
was poured down upon the cartridge within the gun.
The carpenter made ready sheets of lead, and plugs of
oakum, for the stopping of shot-holes.<a name="FNanchor_32_32" id="FNanchor_32_32"></a><a href="#Footnote_32_32" class="fnanchor">[32]</a> The cook-room
fire was extinguished. The sails were splashed with a
solution of alum. The people went to eat and drink at
their quarters. Extra tiller ropes, of raw hide, were rove
abaft. The trumpeters put on their<a name="FNanchor_33_33" id="FNanchor_33_33"></a><a href="#Footnote_33_33" class="fnanchor">[33]</a> tabards, "of the
Admiral's colours," and blew points of war as they sailed
into action. A writer of the early seventeenth century<a name="FNanchor_34_34" id="FNanchor_34_34"></a><a href="#Footnote_34_34" class="fnanchor">[34]</a>
has left the following spirited account of a sea-fight:&mdash;</p>

<p>"A sail, how bears she or stands shee, to winde-ward
or lee-ward? set him by the Compasse; he stands right
ahead, or on the weather-Bowe, or lee-Bowe, let fly your
colours if you have a consort, else not. Out with all your
sails, a steady man to the helme, sit close to keep her
steady, give him chase or fetch him up; he holds his
own, no, we gather on him. Captain, out goes his flag
and pendants, also his waste-clothes and top-armings,
which is a long red cloth about three quarters of a yard
broad, edged on each side with Calico, or white linnen
cloth, that goeth round about the ship on the outsides
of all her upper works fore and aft, and before the
cubbridge-heads, also about the fore and maine tops, as
well for the countenance and grace of the ship, as to
cover the men for being seen, he furies and slinges his
maine yarde, in goes his spret-saile. Thus they use to
strip themselves into their short sailes, or fighting sailes,
which is only the fore sail, the main and fore topsails,
because the rest should
<ins class="correction" title="Transcriber's Note: original reads 'notb e'">not be</ins>
fired nor spoiled; besides
they would be troublesome to handle, hinder our fights
and the using our armes; he makes ready his close
fights fore and aft.</p>

<p>"Master, how stands the chase? Right on head I say;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_336" id="Page_336">[336]</a></span>
Well we shall reatch him by and by; what's all ready?
Yea, yea, every man to his charge, dowse your topsaile to
salute him for the Sea, hale him with a noise of trumpets;
Whence is your ship? Of Spaine; Whence is yours? Of
England. Are you a Merchant, or a Man of War? We
are of the Sea. He waves us to Lee-ward with his drawne
Sword, cals amaine for the King of Spaine and springs
his loufe. Give him a chase piece with your broadside,
and run a good berth ahead of him; Done, done. We
have the winde of him, and he tackes about, tacke you
aboute also and keep your loufe [keep close to the wind]
be yare at the helme, edge in with him, give him a volley
of small shot, also your prow and broadside as before, and
keep your loufe; He payes us shot for shot; Well, we
shall requite him; What, are you ready again? Yea, yea.
Try him once more, as before; Done, Done; Keep your
loufe and charge your ordnance again; Is all ready?
Yea, yea, edge in with him again, begin with your bowe
pieces, proceed with your broadside, and let her fall off
with the winde, to give her also your full chase, your
weather broadside, and bring her round that the stern
may also discharge, and your tackes close aboord again;
Done, done, the wind veeres, the Sea goes too high to
boord her, and we are shot thorow and thorow, and
betwene winde and water. Try the pump, bear up the
helme; Master let us breathe and refresh a little, and
sling a man overboard [<i>i.e.</i> lower a man over the side] to
stop the leakes; that is, to trusse him up aboute the
middle in a piece of canvas, and a rope to keep him from
sinking, and his armes at liberty, with a malet in the one
hand, and a plug lapped in Okum, and well tarred in a
tarpawling clowt in the other, which he will quickly beat
into the hole or holes the bullets made; What cheere
mates? is all well? All well, all well, all well. Then
make ready to bear up with him again, and with all your<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_337" id="Page_337">[337]</a></span>
great and small shot charge him, and in the smoke boord
him thwart the hawse, on the bowe, midships, or rather
than faile, on the quarter [where the high poop made it
difficult to climb on board] or make fast your graplings
[iron hooks] if you can to his close fights and shear off [so
as to tear them to pieces]. Captain, we are fowl on each
other, and the Ship is on fire, cut anything to get clear
and smother the fire with wet clothes. In such a case
they will presently be such friends, as to helpe one the
other all they can to get clear, lest they should both burn
together and sink; and if they be generous, the fire
quenched, drink kindely one to another; heave their
cans overboord, and then begin again as before.</p>

<p>"Well, Master, the day is spent, the night drawes on, let
us consult. Chirurgion, look to the wounded, and winde
up the slain, with each a weight or bullet at their heades
and feet to make them sinke, and give them three Gunnes
for their funerals. Swabber, make clean the ship [sprinkle
it with hot vinegar to avoid the smell of blood]; Purser,
record their Names; Watch, be vigilant to keep your
berth to windeward that we lose him not in the night;
Gunners, spunge your Ordnance; Sowldiers, scowre your
pieces; Carpenters about your leakes; Boatswaine and the
rest repair your sails and shrouds; and Cooke, you observe
your directions against the morning watch; Boy, Holla,
Master, Holla, is the Kettle boiled? Yea, yea; Boatswaine,
call up the men to prayer and breakfast [We
may suppose the dawn has broken].</p>

<p>"Boy, fetch my cellar of bottels [case of spirits], a health
to you all fore and aft, courage my hearts for a fresh
charge; Gunners beat open the ports, and out with your
lower tire [lower tier of guns] and bring me from the
weather side to the lee, so many pieces as we have ports
to bear upon him. Master lay him aboord loufe for loufe;
mid Ships men, see the tops and yards well manned, with<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_338" id="Page_338">[338]</a></span>
stones, fire pots and brass bailes, to throw amongst them
before we enter, or if we be put off, charge them with all
your great and small shot, in the smoke let us enter them
in the shrouds, and every squadron at his best advantage;
so sound Drums and Trumpets, and Saint George for
England.</p>

<p>"They hang out a flag of truce, hale him a main, abase,
or take in his flag [to hale one to amaine, a main or a-mayn,
was to bid him surrender; to abase was to lower the
colours or the topsails], strike their sails, and come aboord
with their Captaine, Purser, and Gunner, with their commission,
cocket, or bills of loading. Out goes the boat,
they are launched from the ship's side, entertaine them
with a generall cry God save the Captain and all the
company with the Trumpets sounding, examine them in
particular, and then conclude your conditions, with feasting,
freedom or punishment as you find occasion; but alwayes
have as much care to their wounded as your own, and if
there be either young women or aged men, use them
nobly, which is ever the nature of a generous disposition.
To conclude, if you surprise him, or enter perforce, you
may stow the men, rifle, pillage, or sack, and cry a
prise."</p>

<p>Down below in the gun-decks during an action, the
batteries became so full of the smoke of black powder
that the men could hardly see what they were doing.
The darkness prevented them from seeing the very
dangerous recoiling of the guns, and many were killed
by them. It was impossible to judge how a gun carriage
would recoil, for it never recoiled twice in the same manner,
and though the men at the side tackles did their best to
reduce the shock they could not prevent it altogether.
It was the custom to close the gun-ports after each
discharge, as the musketeers aboard the enemy could
otherwise fire through them as the men reloaded. The<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_339" id="Page_339">[339]</a></span>
guns were not fired in a volley, as no ship could have
stood the tremendous shock occasioned by the simultaneous
discharge of all her guns. They were fired in
succession, beginning from the bows. In heavy weather
the lower tiers of guns were not cast loose, for the rolling
made them difficult to control, and the sea came washing
through the ports and into the muzzles of the guns, knocking
down the men and drenching the powder. It sometimes
happened that the shot, and cartridge, were rolled clean
out of the guns. In sponging and ramming the men
were bidden to keep the sponge or rammer on that side
of them opposite to the side exposed to the enemy so
that if a shot should strike it, it would not force it into the
body of the holder. A man was told off to bring cartridges
and shot to each gun or division of guns and he was
strictly forbidden to supply any other gun or guns during
the action. The wounded were to be helped below by
men told off especially for the purpose. Once below, in
the cockpit, they were laid on a sail, and the doctor or his
mates attended to them in turn. In no case was a man
attended out of his turn. This system seems equitable,
and the sailors were insistent that it should be observed;
but many poor fellows bled to death, from shattered
arteries, etc., while waiting till the doctor should be ready.
The chaplain attended in the cockpit to comfort the dying,
and administer the rites of the Church. When a vessel
was taken, her crew were stripped by those in want of
clothes. The prisoners were handcuffed, or chained
together, and placed in the hold, on the ballast. The
ship's company then set to work to repair damages, clean
and secure the guns, return powder, etc., to the armoury,
and magazines, and to give thanks for their preservation
round the main-mast.</p>

<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;">
<a name="map" id="map"></a>
<a href="https://brian.carnell.com/wiki/_media/etext:j:john-masefield-on-the-spanish-main-map.png"><img src="https://brian.carnell.com/wiki/_media/etext:j:john-masefield-on-the-spanish-main-map_th.png" width="500" height="398"
alt="Map Shewing the EARLY BUCCANEER CRUISING GROUND"
title="Map Shewing the EARLY BUCCANEER CRUISING GROUND" /></a>
<span class="caption">Map Shewing the EARLY BUCCANEER CRUISING GROUND</span>
</div>


<hr class="chapter" />
<h2><a name="FOOTNOTES" id="FOOTNOTES"></a>FOOTNOTES</h2>

<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_1_1" id="Footnote_1_1"></a><a href="#FNanchor_1_1"><span class="label">[1]</span></a> This was eleven years after the royal mandate ordering the transference of
the main trade of the place to Porto Bello. Perhaps the town retained much
of the trade, in spite of the mandate, as the transference involved the making
of a new mule track across the bogs and crags between Venta Cruz and Porto
Bello. Such a track would have taken several years to lay.</p></div>

<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_2_2" id="Footnote_2_2"></a><a href="#FNanchor_2_2"><span class="label">[2]</span></a> <i>Caliver</i>, a light, hand musket. A musket without a crutch, or rest.</p></div>

<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_3_3" id="Footnote_3_3"></a><a href="#FNanchor_3_3"><span class="label">[3]</span></a> See particularly Burney, Exquemeling, Edwards, and Hazard.</p></div>

<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_4_4" id="Footnote_4_4"></a><a href="#FNanchor_4_4"><span class="label">[4]</span></a> See Exquemeling, Burney, and the Abb&eacute; Raynal.</p></div>

<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_5_5" id="Footnote_5_5"></a><a href="#FNanchor_5_5"><span class="label">[5]</span></a> Burney.</p></div>

<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_6_6" id="Footnote_6_6"></a><a href="#FNanchor_6_6"><span class="label">[6]</span></a> See Burney, and Exquemeling.</p></div>

<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_7_7" id="Footnote_7_7"></a><a href="#FNanchor_7_7"><span class="label">[7]</span></a> Exquemeling.</p></div>

<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_8_8" id="Footnote_8_8"></a><a href="#FNanchor_8_8"><span class="label">[8]</span></a> Precarious, and not at all permanent.</p></div>

<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_9_9" id="Footnote_9_9"></a><a href="#FNanchor_9_9"><span class="label">[9]</span></a> Similar pacts of comradeship are made among merchant sailors to this day.</p></div>

<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_10_10" id="Footnote_10_10"></a><a href="#FNanchor_10_10"><span class="label">[10]</span></a> Exquemeling gives many curious details of the life of these strange people.
See the French edition of "Histoire des Avanturiers."</p></div>

<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_11_11" id="Footnote_11_11"></a><a href="#FNanchor_11_11"><span class="label">[11]</span></a> Exquemeling gives these details.</p></div>

<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_12_12" id="Footnote_12_12"></a><a href="#FNanchor_12_12"><span class="label">[12]</span></a> Exquemeling.</p></div>

<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_13_13" id="Footnote_13_13"></a><a href="#FNanchor_13_13"><span class="label">[13]</span></a> Dampier.</p></div>

<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_14_14" id="Footnote_14_14"></a><a href="#FNanchor_14_14"><span class="label">[14]</span></a> Exquemeling.</p></div>

<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_15_15" id="Footnote_15_15"></a><a href="#FNanchor_15_15"><span class="label">[15]</span></a> Dampier and Exquemeling.</p></div>

<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_16_16" id="Footnote_16_16"></a><a href="#FNanchor_16_16"><span class="label">[16]</span></a> With reservations. See p. 13, <a href="#Footnote_1_1"><i>note</i></a>.</p></div>

<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_17_17" id="Footnote_17_17"></a><a href="#FNanchor_17_17"><span class="label">[17]</span></a> They had come ashore to get water.</p></div>

<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_18_18" id="Footnote_18_18"></a><a href="#FNanchor_18_18"><span class="label">[18]</span></a> See Charnock's "Marine Architecture."</p></div>

<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_19_19" id="Footnote_19_19"></a><a href="#FNanchor_19_19"><span class="label">[19]</span></a> See Corbett's "Drake and the Tudor Navy."</p></div>

<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_20_20" id="Footnote_20_20"></a><a href="#FNanchor_20_20"><span class="label">[20]</span></a> See Sir W. Monson, "Naval Tracts," and Sir R. Hawkins, "Observations,"
etc.</p></div>

<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_21_21" id="Footnote_21_21"></a><a href="#FNanchor_21_21"><span class="label">[21]</span></a> or caliver.</p></div>

<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_22_22" id="Footnote_22_22"></a><a href="#FNanchor_22_22"><span class="label">[22]</span></a> This word unclow may be a misprint for uncloy. To uncloy was to get rid
of the spike, or soft metal nail, thrust into a piece's touch-hole by an enemy.
It was done by oiling the spike all over, so as to make it "glib," and then
blowing it out, from within, by a train of powder.</p></div>

<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_23_23" id="Footnote_23_23"></a><a href="#FNanchor_23_23"><span class="label">[23]</span></a> He had to hang out the ship's colours on going into action (<i>Monson</i>).</p></div>

<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_24_24" id="Footnote_24_24"></a><a href="#FNanchor_24_24"><span class="label">[24]</span></a> See "The Sea-man's Grammar," by Captain John Smith.</p></div>

<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_25_25" id="Footnote_25_25"></a><a href="#FNanchor_25_25"><span class="label">[25]</span></a> The men were expected to bring their own swords and knives.</p></div>

<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_26_26" id="Footnote_26_26"></a><a href="#FNanchor_26_26"><span class="label">[26]</span></a> See Sir W. Monson's "Naval Tracts."</p></div>

<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_27_27" id="Footnote_27_27"></a><a href="#FNanchor_27_27"><span class="label">[27]</span></a> The mortality among the sailors was very great.</p></div>

<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_28_28" id="Footnote_28_28"></a><a href="#FNanchor_28_28"><span class="label">[28]</span></a> <i>Circa</i> 1670.</p></div>

<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_29_29" id="Footnote_29_29"></a><a href="#FNanchor_29_29"><span class="label">[29]</span></a> The punishment would have been no less severe a century earlier.</p></div>

<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_30_30" id="Footnote_30_30"></a><a href="#FNanchor_30_30"><span class="label">[30]</span></a> Monson.</p></div>

<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_31_31" id="Footnote_31_31"></a><a href="#FNanchor_31_31"><span class="label">[31]</span></a> <i>Ibid.</i></p></div>

<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_32_32" id="Footnote_32_32"></a><a href="#FNanchor_32_32"><span class="label">[32]</span></a> Monson.</p></div>

<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_33_33" id="Footnote_33_33"></a><a href="#FNanchor_33_33"><span class="label">[33]</span></a> <i>Ibid.</i></p></div>

<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_34_34" id="Footnote_34_34"></a><a href="#FNanchor_34_34"><span class="label">[34]</span></a> Captain John Smith.</p></div>



<hr class="chapter" />
<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_341" id="Page_341">[341]</a></span></p>
<h2><a name="INDEX" id="INDEX"></a>INDEX</h2>


<ul><li class="section"><span class="smcap">Action</span>, description of ship in, <a href='#Page_334'>334</a></li>

<li>Allowance of food and drink, <a href='#Page_326'>326</a>, <a href='#Page_327'>327</a></li>

<li>Alvarado, <a href='#Page_226'>226</a>, etc.</li>

<li>&mdash;&mdash; battle of, <a href='#Page_227'>227</a> <i>et seq.</i></li>

<li>Anastasius (church), <a href='#Page_252'>252</a></li>

<li>Andreas, Captain, <a href='#Page_232'>232</a>, <a href='#Page_234'>234</a>, <a href='#Page_238'>238</a></li>

<li>Antonio, Captain, <a href='#Page_235'>235</a></li>

<li>Arica, <a href='#Page_259'>259</a>, <a href='#Page_265'>265</a>, <a href='#Page_266'>266</a>, <a href='#Page_267'>267</a></li>

<li>&mdash;&mdash; battle of, <a href='#Page_267'>267</a> <i>et seq.</i>, <a href='#Page_273'>273</a>, <a href='#Page_274'>274</a></li>

<li>Arquebus, <a href='#Page_303'>303</a></li>


<li class="section"><span class="smcap">Barbecue</span>, <a href='#Page_112'>112</a></li>

<li>Barker, Andrew, <a href='#Page_105'>105</a></li>

<li>Baronha, Admiral, <a href='#Page_245'>245</a></li>

<li>Bastimentos, <a href='#Page_22'>22</a></li>

<li><i>Bear</i>, pinnace, <a href='#Page_79'>79</a>, <a href='#Page_82'>82</a>, <a href='#Page_84'>84</a></li>

<li>Bishop (of Panama), <a href='#Page_255'>255</a>, <a href='#Page_256'>256</a>, <a href='#Page_281'>281</a></li>

<li>Blewfields, <a href='#Page_134'>134</a></li>

<li>Boats (ships'), <a href='#Page_297'>297</a></li>

<li>Boatswains, <a href='#Page_313'>313</a></li>

<li>Boco del Toro, <a href='#Page_230'>230</a>, <a href='#Page_231'>231</a></li>

<li>Boucan, <a href='#Page_112'>112</a></li>

<li>Bracos, De los, <a href='#Page_180'>180</a></li>

<li>Bradley, John, <a href='#Page_173'>173</a> <i>et seq.</i></li>

<li>Buccaneers, rise of, <a href='#Page_112'>112</a> <i>et seq.</i>;</li>
<li class="sub">customs, etc., <a href='#Page_113'>113</a>;</li>
<li class="sub">dress, <a href='#Page_114'>114</a>;</li>
<li class="sub">drunkenness, <a href='#Page_115'>115</a>;</li>
<li class="sub">cruel, <a href='#Page_116'>116</a>;</li>
<li class="sub">religious, <a href='#Page_119'>119</a>;</li>
<li class="sub">attached to comrades, <a href='#Page_119'>119</a>;</li>
<li class="sub">preparations for raids, <a href='#Page_120'>120</a> <i>et seq.</i>;</li>
<li class="sub">shares of spoil, <a href='#Page_125'>125</a>;</li>
<li class="sub">at the Samballoes, <a href='#Page_232'>232</a>;</li>
<li class="sub">at Perico, <a href='#Page_247'>247</a></li>

<li>Buckenham, Captain, <a href='#Page_225'>225</a></li>


<li class="section"><span class="smcap">Cabe&ccedil;as</span>, or Cabezas, <a href='#Page_80'>80</a>, <a href='#Page_84'>84</a>, <a href='#Page_88'>88</a>, <a href='#Page_92'>92</a>, <a href='#Page_95'>95</a></li>

<li>Cabin-boys, <a href='#Page_319'>319</a></li>

<li>Campeachy, <a href='#Page_127'>127</a></li>

<li>Canoas, <a href='#Page_127'>127</a>;</li>
<li class="sub">capturing prizes from, <a href='#Page_129'>129</a> <i>et seq.</i></li>

<li>Captains, <a href='#Page_311'>311</a>, <a href='#Page_322'>322</a>, <a href='#Page_323'>323</a>, <a href='#Page_324'>324</a></li>

<li>Caribs, <a href='#Page_108'>108</a></li>

<li>Carpenters, <a href='#Page_316'>316</a></li>

<li>Cartagena, <a href='#Page_11'>11</a>, <a href='#Page_26'>26</a>, <a href='#Page_27'>27</a>, <a href='#Page_33'>33</a>, <a href='#Page_35'>35</a>, <a href='#Page_40'>40</a>, <a href='#Page_41'>41</a> <i>et seq.</i>, <a href='#Page_44'>44</a>, <a href='#Page_45'>45</a>, <a href='#Page_94'>94</a></li>

<li>Cartridges, <a href='#Page_300'>300</a>, <a href='#Page_301'>301</a></li>

<li>Castle Gloria, <a href='#Page_151'>151</a></li>

<li>Cativaas, or Catives, <a href='#Page_9'>9</a>, <a href='#Page_38'>38</a>, <a href='#Page_53'>53</a>, <a href='#Page_82'>82</a></li>

<li>Cedro Bueno, halt at, <a href='#Page_182'>182</a></li>

<li>&mdash;&mdash; canoas sent to, <a href='#Page_188'>188</a></li>

<li>Chaplains, <a href='#Page_321'>321</a>, <a href='#Page_339'>339</a></li>

<li>Chagres Castle, expedition to, under Bradley, <a href='#Page_173'>173</a> <i>et seq.</i></li>

<li>&mdash;&mdash; Morgan's arrival at, <a href='#Page_180'>180</a></li>

<li>&mdash;&mdash; party sent to, <a href='#Page_203'>203</a></li>

<li>&mdash;&mdash; message from, <a href='#Page_205'>205</a></li>

<li>Chagres River, <a href='#Page_25'>25</a>, <a href='#Page_71'>71</a>, <a href='#Page_72'>72</a>, <a href='#Page_73'>73</a>, <a href='#Page_74'>74</a>, <a href='#Page_75'>75</a>, <a href='#Page_81'>81</a>; also <a href='#Page_180'>180</a>-<a href='#Page_210'>210</a></li>

<li>Charesha, <a href='#Page_26'>26</a></li>

<li>Chatas (small Spanish boats), <a href='#Page_179'>179</a></li>

<li>Cheapo River, <a href='#Page_61'>61</a>, <a href='#Page_241'>241</a>, <a href='#Page_279'>279</a></li>

<li>Chapillo, <a href='#Page_241'>241</a>, <a href='#Page_253'>253</a></li>

<li>Chirurgeons, <a href='#Page_321'>321</a></li>

<li>Colonies in West Indies, <a href='#Page_110'>110</a>, <a href='#Page_111'>111</a></li>

<li>Commissions, <a href='#Page_118'>118</a></li>

<li>Cook, Captain, <a href='#Page_233'>233</a>, <a href='#Page_234'>234</a>, <a href='#Page_256'>256</a>, <a href='#Page_258'>258</a>, <a href='#Page_262'>262</a></li>

<li>Cooks (ships'), <a href='#Page_315'>315</a></li>

<li>Coopers, <a href='#Page_318'>318</a></li>

<li>Compensations, <a href='#Page_122'>122</a></li>

<li>Comrades, <a href='#Page_323'>323</a></li>

<li>Corporals, <a href='#Page_312'>312</a></li>

<li>Costa Rica, Morgan sails for, <a href='#Page_149'>149</a></li>

<li>Cox, Captain, <a href='#Page_258'>258</a>, <a href='#Page_259'>259</a>, <a href='#Page_262'>262</a></li>

<li>Coxon, Captain, <a href='#Page_229'>229</a>, <a href='#Page_233'>233</a>, <a href='#Page_237'>237</a>, <a href='#Page_240'>240</a>, <a href='#Page_241'>241</a>, <a href='#Page_243'>243</a>, <a href='#Page_249'>249</a>, <a href='#Page_253'>253</a></li>

<li>&mdash;&mdash; sails for home, <a href='#Page_254'>254</a></li>

<li>Coxswains, <a href='#Page_313'>313</a></li>

<li>Crews, <a href='#Page_319'>319</a></li>


<li class="section"><span class="smcap">Daggs</span> (pistols), <a href='#Page_304'>304</a></li>

<li>Dampier, William, <a href='#Page_126'>126</a>;</li>
<li class="sub">early life in West Indies, <a href='#Page_218'>218</a> <i>et seq.</i>;</li>
<li class="sub">ill at Campeachy, <a href='#Page_225'>225</a>;</li>
<li class="sub">ruined by storm, <a href='#Page_226'>226</a>;</li>
<li class="sub">goes pirating, <i>ibid.</i>;</li>
<li class="sub">returns<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_342" id="Page_342">[342]</a></span>
to England, <a href='#Page_228'>228</a>;</li>
<li class="sub">to Jamaica, <a href='#Page_229'>229</a>;</li>
<li class="sub">joins buccaneers, <a href='#Page_230'>230</a>;</li>
<li class="sub">lands on isthmus, <a href='#Page_234'>234</a>;</li>
<li class="sub">not at Perico, <a href='#Page_246'>246</a>;</li>
<li class="sub">not at Arica, <a href='#Page_267'>267</a>;</li>
<li class="sub">leaves Sharp, <a href='#Page_276'>276</a>, <a href='#Page_277'>277</a>;</li>
<li class="sub">tramps across isthmus, <a href='#Page_280'>280</a>, <a href='#Page_283'>283</a>, <a href='#Page_284'>284</a>, <a href='#Page_285'>285</a>, <a href='#Page_286'>286</a>, <a href='#Page_287'>287</a>, <a href='#Page_288'>288</a></li>

<li>Darien, Gulf of, <a href='#Page_4'>4</a>, <a href='#Page_5'>5</a>, <a href='#Page_8'>8</a>, <a href='#Page_31'>31</a>, <a href='#Page_99'>99</a></li>

<li>Darien isthmus. <i>See</i> Drake, Morgan, Dampier, etc.</li>

<li>Delander, R., <a href='#Page_180'>180</a></li>

<li>De la Barra Castle, <a href='#Page_162'>162</a></li>

<li>Diego, <a href='#Page_19'>19</a>, <a href='#Page_24'>24</a>, <a href='#Page_31'>31</a>, <a href='#Page_32'>32</a>, <a href='#Page_36'>36</a>, <a href='#Page_50'>50</a>, <a href='#Page_51'>51</a></li>

<li>&mdash;&mdash; Fort, <a href='#Page_49'>49</a>, <a href='#Page_51'>51</a>, <a href='#Page_92'>92</a></li>

<li>&mdash;&mdash; River, <a href='#Page_37'>37</a>, <a href='#Page_38'>38</a>, <a href='#Page_49'>49</a></li>

<li>Discomforts, <a href='#Page_328'>328</a></li>

<li>Discipline, <a href='#Page_330'>330</a>, <a href='#Page_331'>331</a>, <a href='#Page_332'>332</a></li>

<li>Drake, Francis (afterwards Sir Francis), born, <a href='#Page_1'>1</a>;</li>
<li class="sub">at San Juan d'Ulloa, <a href='#Page_1'>1</a>, <a href='#Page_2'>2</a>;</li>
<li class="sub">at West Indies, <a href='#Page_2'>2</a>, <a href='#Page_3'>3</a>;</li>
<li class="sub">sails for Nombre de Dios, <a href='#Page_3'>3</a>, <a href='#Page_4'>4</a>, <a href='#Page_5'>5</a>;</li>
<li class="sub">lands, <a href='#Page_6'>6</a>;</li>
<li class="sub">joins Rause, <a href='#Page_7'>7</a>, <a href='#Page_8'>8</a>;</li>
<li class="sub">sails west, <a href='#Page_9'>9</a>, <a href='#Page_10'>10</a>;</li>
<li class="sub">attacks Nombre de Dios, <a href='#Page_15'>15</a>, <a href='#Page_16'>16</a>, <a href='#Page_20'>20</a>, <a href='#Page_21'>21</a>;</li>
<li class="sub">hurt, <a href='#Page_21'>21</a>;</li>
<li class="sub">receives herald, <a href='#Page_23'>23</a>;</li>
<li class="sub">goes to Cartagena, <a href='#Page_26'>26</a>;</li>
<li class="sub">establishes fort, <a href='#Page_31'>31</a>;</li>
<li class="sub">goes east, <a href='#Page_32'>32</a>, <a href='#Page_33'>33</a>;</li>
<li class="sub">in Cartagena, <a href='#Page_40'>40</a>, <a href='#Page_41'>41</a>, etc.;</li>
<li class="sub">returns thither, <a href='#Page_45'>45</a>;</li>
<li class="sub">starving, <a href='#Page_46'>46</a>, <a href='#Page_47'>47</a>;</li>
<li class="sub">holds post mortem, <a href='#Page_52'>52</a>;</li>
<li class="sub">goes for Panama, <a href='#Page_55'>55</a> <i>et seq.</i>;</li>
<li class="sub">fails to take treasure, <a href='#Page_66'>66</a>;</li>
<li class="sub">retreats, <a href='#Page_68'>68</a>;</li>
<li class="sub">at Venta Cruz, <a href='#Page_69'>69</a>;</li>
<li class="sub">returns to Hixom, <a href='#Page_77'>77</a>;</li>
<li class="sub">goes to Veragua, <a href='#Page_80'>80</a>, <a href='#Page_81'>81</a>;</li>
<li class="sub">meets Captain Tet&ucirc;, <a href='#Page_82'>82</a>;</li>
<li class="sub">makes his great raid, <a href='#Page_84'>84</a>, <a href='#Page_85'>85</a>, <a href='#Page_86'>86</a>, <a href='#Page_88'>88</a>;</li>
<li class="sub">builds raft, <a href='#Page_89'>89</a>-<a href='#Page_90'>90</a>;</li>
<li class="sub">his bravado, <a href='#Page_94'>94</a>;</li>
<li class="sub">arrives at Plymouth, <a href='#Page_96'>96</a>;</li>
<li class="sub">mentioned, <a href='#Page_97'>97</a>;</li>
<li class="sub">sacks St Domingo, <a href='#Page_110'>110</a>;</li>
<li class="sub">his island, <a href='#Page_259'>259</a>, <a href='#Page_260'>260</a></li>

<li>&mdash;&mdash; John, <a href='#Page_29'>29</a>, <a href='#Page_30'>30</a>, <a href='#Page_31'>31</a>, <a href='#Page_32'>32</a>, <a href='#Page_37'>37</a></li>

<li>&mdash;&mdash; Joseph, <a href='#Page_52'>52</a></li>


<li class="section"><span class="smcap">Entertainments</span>, <a href='#Page_325'>325</a></li>

<li>Estera longa Lemos (near Porto Bello), <a href='#Page_153'>153</a></li>


<li class="section"><span class="smcap">Firing</span> (of cannon), <a href='#Page_301'>301</a>;</li>
<li class="sub">and aiming, <a href='#Page_305'>305</a>, <a href='#Page_306'>306</a></li>

<li>Fort Jeronimo (at Porto Bello), <a href='#Page_151'>151</a></li>

<li>Francisco River (St Francis River), <a href='#Page_9'>9</a>, <a href='#Page_84'>84</a>, <a href='#Page_88'>88</a>, <a href='#Page_91'>91</a>, <a href='#Page_92'>92</a></li>

<li>French in West Indies, <a href='#Page_111'>111</a>, <a href='#Page_117'>117</a></li>

<li>&mdash;&mdash; buccaneer commissions, <a href='#Page_118'>118</a></li>

<li>Fumigations, <a href='#Page_329'>329</a></li>


<li class="section"><span class="smcap">Gabriele, Josef</span>, <a href='#Page_239'>239</a></li>

<li>Galleons, <a href='#Page_292'>292</a>, <a href='#Page_293'>293</a></li>

<li>Galliasses, <a href='#Page_292'>292</a>, <a href='#Page_293'>293</a></li>

<li>Galleys, <a href='#Page_291'>291</a></li>

<li>Gambling, <a href='#Page_131'>131</a></li>

<li>Garret, John, <a href='#Page_6'>6</a></li>

<li>Gayny, G., <a href='#Page_283'>283</a>, <a href='#Page_285'>285</a>, <a href='#Page_286'>286</a>, <a href='#Page_287'>287</a></li>

<li>Gear (sailors'), <a href='#Page_296'>296</a></li>

<li>Gibraltar (in Maracaibo), <a href='#Page_162'>162</a></li>

<li>Glub, Charles, <a href='#Page_49'>49</a></li>

<li>Golden Island, <a href='#Page_232'>232</a></li>

<li>Gorgona, <a href='#Page_259'>259</a>, <a href='#Page_276'>276</a></li>

<li>Grummets, <a href='#Page_320'>320</a></li>

<li>Guasco (Huasco), <a href='#Page_274'>274</a></li>

<li>Gunners, <a href='#Page_300'>300</a>, <a href='#Page_301'>301</a>, <a href='#Page_302'>302</a>, <a href='#Page_304'>304</a>, <a href='#Page_305'>305</a>, <a href='#Page_308'>308</a>, <a href='#Page_309'>309</a>, <a href='#Page_312'>312</a></li>

<li>Guns, <a href='#Page_298'>298</a> <i>et seq.</i>, <a href='#Page_307'>307</a>;</li>
<li class="sub">list of, <a href='#Page_303'>303</a></li>

<li>Guzman, Don John Perez, takes Santa Katalina, <a href='#Page_138'>138</a>. <i>See also</i> Panama battle</li>


<li class="section"><span class="smcap">Harris, Captain</span>, <a href='#Page_233'>233</a>, <a href='#Page_237'>237</a>;</li>
<li class="sub">killed and buried, <a href='#Page_253'>253</a></li>

<li>Hawkins, Sir R., <a href='#Page_98'>98</a>, <a href='#Page_99'>99</a>;</li>
<li class="sub">his story of Oxenham, <a href='#Page_105'>105</a></li>

<li>Hayti, <a href='#Page_106'>106</a></li>

<li>Hilo (Ylo or Ilo), <a href='#Page_260'>260</a>, <a href='#Page_273'>273</a>, <a href='#Page_274'>274</a></li>

<li>Hispaniola, <a href='#Page_106'>106</a>, <a href='#Page_107'>107</a> <i>et seq.</i>, <a href='#Page_114'>114</a></li>

<li>Hixom, Ellis, <a href='#Page_48'>48</a>, <a href='#Page_54'>54</a>, <a href='#Page_56'>56</a>, <a href='#Page_75'>75</a>, <a href='#Page_76'>76</a>, <a href='#Page_77'>77</a></li>

<li>Hobby, Mr, <a href='#Page_229'>229</a></li>

<li>Hunters, <a href='#Page_108'>108</a>, <a href='#Page_109'>109</a></li>


<li class="section"><span class="smcap">Indians</span>, <a href='#Page_121'>121</a>, <a href='#Page_265'>265</a>, <a href='#Page_279'>279</a></li>

<li>Iquique (Yqueque), <a href='#Page_264'>264</a></li>

<li>Iron Castle (at Porto Bello), <a href='#Page_139'>139</a>, <a href='#Page_151'>151</a>, <a href='#Page_158'>158</a></li>


<li class="section"><span class="smcap">Jamaica</span>, <a href='#Page_118'>118</a>, <a href='#Page_229'>229</a>, <a href='#Page_289'>289</a></li>

<li>Jobson (or Cobson), <a href='#Page_284'>284</a>, <a href='#Page_287'>287</a></li>

<li>Joiners, <a href='#Page_316'>316</a></li>

<li>Juan Fernandez, <a href='#Page_261'>261</a>, <a href='#Page_264'>264</a></li>


<li class="section"><span class="smcap">Katalina, Santa</span>, Mansvelt goes to, <a href='#Page_135'>135</a></li>

<li>&mdash;&mdash; Morgan takes, <a href='#Page_171'>171</a></li>

<li>King Golden Cap, <a href='#Page_236'>236</a>, <a href='#Page_237'>237</a>, <a href='#Page_239'>239</a>, <a href='#Page_241'>241</a>, <a href='#Page_246'>246</a>, <a href='#Page_253'>253</a>, <a href='#Page_255'>255</a>
<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_343" id="Page_343">[343]</a></span></li>


<li class="section"><span class="smcap">La Serena</span>, <a href='#Page_260'>260</a></li>

<li>Las Serenas, <a href='#Page_44'>44</a></li>

<li>La Sounds Key, <a href='#Page_285'>285</a>, <a href='#Page_287'>287</a>, <a href='#Page_288'>288</a></li>

<li>Liars, <a href='#Page_320'>320</a></li>

<li>Lieutenants, <a href='#Page_311'>311</a></li>

<li>Linstocks, <a href='#Page_309'>309</a></li>

<li><i>Lion</i>, pinnace, <a href='#Page_53'>53</a>, <a href='#Page_84'>84</a></li>

<li>Logwood cutting, <a href='#Page_127'>127</a>;</li>
<li class="sub">description of, <a href='#Page_222'>222</a></li>

<li>Longships, <a href='#Page_291'>291</a></li>

<li>Lorenzo, San, Castle of, <a href='#Page_173'>173</a>;</li>
<li class="sub">taken, <a href='#Page_176'>176</a>;</li>
<li class="sub">Morgan's return to, <a href='#Page_213'>213</a>;</li>
<li class="sub">destroyed, <a href='#Page_214'>214</a></li>


<li class="section"><span class="smcap">Magdalena</span>, <a href='#Page_31'>31</a>, <a href='#Page_37'>37</a></li>

<li>Main, the, <a href='#Page_28'>28</a>, <a href='#Page_39'>39</a>, <a href='#Page_83'>83</a>, <a href='#Page_123'>123</a>, <a href='#Page_124'>124</a>, <a href='#Page_127'>127</a></li>

<li>Mansvelt, Dutch pirate, cruises in South Seas, <a href='#Page_135'>135</a>;</li>
<li class="sub">his plans, <a href='#Page_134'>134</a>;</li>
<li class="sub">meets Henry Morgan, <a href='#Page_135'>135</a>;</li>
<li class="sub">sails with him, <i>ibid.</i>;</li>
<li class="sub">takes Santa Katalina, <a href='#Page_135'>135</a>;</li>
<li class="sub">seeks recruits and recognition from English Governor, <a href='#Page_136'>136</a>;</li>
<li class="sub">is refused help, <a href='#Page_137'>137</a>;</li>
<li class="sub">sails to Tortuga, <a href='#Page_137'>137</a>;</li>
<li class="sub">dies, <a href='#Page_139'>139</a></li>

<li>Maracaibo, <a href='#Page_162'>162</a></li>

<li>Maroons, <a href='#Page_24'>24</a>, <a href='#Page_28'>28</a>, <a href='#Page_36'>36</a>, <a href='#Page_38'>38</a>, <a href='#Page_51'>51</a>, <a href='#Page_53'>53</a>, <a href='#Page_54'>54</a>, <a href='#Page_56'>56</a>, <a href='#Page_58'>58</a>, <a href='#Page_59'>59</a>, <a href='#Page_60'>60</a>, <a href='#Page_62'>62</a>, <a href='#Page_65'>65</a>, <a href='#Page_66'>66</a>, <a href='#Page_67'>67</a>, <a href='#Page_68'>68</a>, <a href='#Page_69'>69</a>, <a href='#Page_70'>70</a>, <a href='#Page_74'>74</a>, <a href='#Page_75'>75</a>, <a href='#Page_76'>76</a>, <a href='#Page_85'>85</a>, <a href='#Page_89'>89</a>, <a href='#Page_95'>95</a>, <a href='#Page_99'>99</a>, <a href='#Page_100'>100</a>, <a href='#Page_101'>101</a>, <a href='#Page_102'>102</a></li>

<li>Marygalante, <a href='#Page_4'>4</a></li>

<li>Masts, <a href='#Page_294'>294</a></li>

<li>Masters, <a href='#Page_312'>312</a>, <a href='#Page_322'>322</a></li>

<li><i>Minion</i>, pinnace, <a href='#Page_49'>49</a>, <a href='#Page_79'>79</a></li>

<li>Moone, T., <a href='#Page_2'>2</a>, <a href='#Page_29'>29</a></li>

<li>Morgan, Henry (afterwards Sir Henry), meets Mansvelt, <a href='#Page_135'>135</a>;</li>
<li class="sub">sails with him, <i>ibid.</i>;</li>
<li class="sub">tries to get help from New England, <a href='#Page_139'>139</a>;</li>
<li class="sub">gathers fleet, <a href='#Page_140'>140</a>;</li>
<li class="sub">goes for Puerto del Principe, <a href='#Page_141'>141</a>;</li>
<li class="sub">battle there, <a href='#Page_142'>142</a>;</li>
<li class="sub">town taken, <a href='#Page_142'>142</a>;</li>
<li class="sub">stay there, <a href='#Page_143'>143</a>;</li>
<li class="sub">mutiny and fight, <a href='#Page_145'>145</a>;</li>
<li class="sub">defection of French allies, <a href='#Page_146'>146</a>;</li>
<li class="sub">returns to Port Royal, <a href='#Page_146'>146</a>;</li>
<li class="sub">sails for Costa Rica, <a href='#Page_149'>149</a>;</li>
<li class="sub">lands, <a href='#Page_153'>153</a>;</li>
<li class="sub">takes a fort, <a href='#Page_155'>155</a>;</li>
<li class="sub">attacks Porto Bello, <a href='#Page_156'>156</a>;</li>
<li class="sub">takes it, <a href='#Page_157'>157</a>;</li>
<li class="sub">receives summons from Panama, <a href='#Page_159'>159</a>;</li>
<li class="sub">defeats Spanish troops, <a href='#Page_160'>160</a>;</li>
<li class="sub">receives ransom, <a href='#Page_160'>160</a>;</li>
<li class="sub">returns to Port Royal, <a href='#Page_161'>161</a>;</li>
<li class="sub">goes for Maracaibo, <a href='#Page_162'>162</a>;</li>
<li class="sub">summons De la Barra Castle, <a href='#Page_163'>163</a>;</li>
<li class="sub">the fireship, <a href='#Page_164'>164</a>;</li>
<li class="sub">Spanish rally, <a href='#Page_164'>164</a>;</li>
<li class="sub">Morgan's stratagem, <a href='#Page_166'>166</a>;</li>
<li class="sub">his return to Port Royal, <a href='#Page_167'>167</a>;</li>
<li class="sub">goes for Main, <a href='#Page_168'>168</a>, <a href='#Page_169'>169</a>;</li>
<li class="sub">takes Santa Katalina, <a href='#Page_177'>177</a>;</li>
<li class="sub">sails for Chagres, <a href='#Page_179'>179</a>;</li>
<li class="sub">reaches Venta Cruz, <a href='#Page_187'>187</a>;</li>
<li class="sub">sees Panama, <a href='#Page_190'>190</a>;</li>
<li class="sub">takes it, <a href='#Page_199'>199</a>, etc.;</li>
<li class="sub">burns his ships, <a href='#Page_209'>209</a>;</li>
<li class="sub">leaves ruins, <a href='#Page_210'>210</a>;</li>
<li class="sub">returns to Venta Cruz, <a href='#Page_212'>212</a>;</li>
<li class="sub">destroys San Lorenzo, <a href='#Page_214'>214</a>;</li>
<li class="sub">returns to Port Royal, <a href='#Page_215'>215</a>;</li>
<li class="sub">becomes Governor of Jamaica, <a href='#Page_216'>216</a></li>

<li>Mosquito Indians, <a href='#Page_122'>122</a>, <a href='#Page_123'>123</a>, <a href='#Page_124'>124</a>, <a href='#Page_125'>125</a></li>

<li>Mule trains (or recuas), <a href='#Page_65'>65</a>, <a href='#Page_66'>66</a>, <a href='#Page_67'>67</a>, <a href='#Page_85'>85</a></li>

<li>Munjack, <a href='#Page_228'>228</a></li>

<li>Muskets, <a href='#Page_303'>303</a></li>

<li>Mutiny, <a href='#Page_257'>257</a></li>


<li class="section"><span class="smcap">Nombre De Dios</span>, <a href='#Page_3'>3</a>, <a href='#Page_6'>6</a>, <a href='#Page_7'>7</a>, <a href='#Page_8'>8</a>, <a href='#Page_10'>10</a>, <a href='#Page_11'>11</a>, <a href='#Page_12'>12</a>, <a href='#Page_13'>13</a>, <a href='#Page_14'>14</a>;</li>
<li class="sub">description of, <a href='#Page_16'>16</a>, <a href='#Page_17'>17</a>, <a href='#Page_18'>18</a>, etc.;</li>
<li class="sub">attack on, <a href='#Page_27'>27</a>, <a href='#Page_28'>28</a>, <a href='#Page_62'>62</a>, <a href='#Page_63'>63</a>, <a href='#Page_64'>64</a>, <a href='#Page_65'>65</a>, <a href='#Page_84'>84</a>, <a href='#Page_85'>85</a>, <a href='#Page_98'>98</a>, <a href='#Page_99'>99</a>, <a href='#Page_103'>103</a>, <a href='#Page_104'>104</a></li>

<li>Norman, Captain, <a href='#Page_180'>180</a>, <a href='#Page_205'>205</a></li>


<li class="section"><span class="smcap">One Bush Key</span>, <a href='#Page_219'>219</a>, <a href='#Page_221'>221</a>, <a href='#Page_224'>224</a></li>

<li>Ortega, John de, <a href='#Page_100'>100</a>, <a href='#Page_101'>101</a></li>

<li>Oxenham, John, <a href='#Page_17'>17</a>, <a href='#Page_18'>18</a>, <a href='#Page_39'>39</a>, <a href='#Page_43'>43</a>, <a href='#Page_61'>61</a>, <a href='#Page_64'>64</a>, <a href='#Page_65'>65</a>, <a href='#Page_79'>79</a>, <a href='#Page_81'>81</a>, <a href='#Page_82'>82</a>, <a href='#Page_93'>93</a>, <a href='#Page_98'>98</a>;</li>
<li class="sub">sails on his raid, <a href='#Page_98'>98</a>;</li>
<li class="sub">builds ship, <a href='#Page_99'>99</a>;</li>
<li class="sub">raids South Seas, <a href='#Page_100'>100</a>;</li>
<li class="sub">mutiny, <a href='#Page_102'>102</a>, <a href='#Page_103'>103</a>;</li>
<li class="sub">Spaniards take him, <a href='#Page_104'>104</a>;</li>
<li class="sub">and hang him, <a href='#Page_104'>104</a>, <a href='#Page_108'>108</a></li>


<li class="section"><span class="smcap">Panama</span>, <a href='#Page_8'>8</a>, <a href='#Page_11'>11</a>, <a href='#Page_12'>12</a>, <a href='#Page_15'>15</a>, <a href='#Page_39'>39</a>, <a href='#Page_54'>54</a>, <a href='#Page_55'>55</a>, <a href='#Page_61'>61</a>, <a href='#Page_62'>62</a>, <a href='#Page_243'>243</a>, <a href='#Page_244'>244</a>, <a href='#Page_252'>252</a>, <a href='#Page_254'>254</a>, <a href='#Page_255'>255</a></li>

<li>&mdash;&mdash; description of, <a href='#Page_192'>192</a>.</li>

<li>&mdash;&mdash; Morgan's sight of, <a href='#Page_190'>190</a></li>

<li>&mdash;&mdash; Governor of. <i>See</i> Guzman, <a href='#Page_159'>159</a>, <a href='#Page_160'>160</a>.</li>

<li>Parrots, at Alvarado, <a href='#Page_227'>227</a></li>

<li><i>Pascha</i>, a ship, <a href='#Page_3'>3</a>, <a href='#Page_30'>30</a>, <a href='#Page_31'>31</a>, <a href='#Page_32'>32</a>, <a href='#Page_79'>79</a>, <a href='#Page_81'>81</a>, <a href='#Page_94'>94</a>, <a href='#Page_95'>95</a></li>

<li>Pavesses, <a href='#Page_294'>294</a></li>

<li>Pearl Islands, <a href='#Page_100'>100</a>, <a href='#Page_101'>101</a>, <a href='#Page_244'>244</a></li>

<li>Pedro, <a href='#Page_57'>57</a>, <a href='#Page_60'>60</a>, <a href='#Page_95'>95</a></li>

<li>Penn, <a href='#Page_117'>117</a></li>

<li>Peralta, Don, <a href='#Page_206'>206</a>, <a href='#Page_245'>245</a>, <a href='#Page_248'>248</a>, <a href='#Page_249'>249</a>, <a href='#Page_250'>250</a>, <a href='#Page_251'>251</a>, <a href='#Page_252'>252</a>, <a href='#Page_258'>258</a>, <a href='#Page_261'>261</a>
<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_344" id="Page_344">[344]</a></span></li>

<li>Periaguas, <a href='#Page_127'>127</a></li>

<li>Perico, <a href='#Page_244'>244</a>, <a href='#Page_245'>245</a>, <a href='#Page_246'>246</a>, <a href='#Page_247'>247</a>, <a href='#Page_248'>248</a>, <a href='#Page_250'>250</a>-<a href='#Page_253'>253</a></li>

<li>Petticoat (a sky-blue), <a href='#Page_279'>279</a></li>

<li>Petty tally, <a href='#Page_324'>324</a>, <a href='#Page_325'>325</a></li>

<li>Pezoro, <a href='#Page_79'>79</a>, <a href='#Page_80'>80</a>, <a href='#Page_81'>81</a></li>

<li>Pike, Robert, <a href='#Page_65'>65</a>, <a href='#Page_67'>67</a>, <a href='#Page_78'>78</a></li>

<li>Pine Islands, <a href='#Page_8'>8</a>, <a href='#Page_9'>9</a>, <a href='#Page_20'>20</a></li>

<li>Pinnaces, <a href='#Page_3'>3</a>,
<a href='#Page_7'><ins class="correction" title="Transcriber's Note: original reads '7,'">7</ins></a></li>

<li>Plenty, Port, <a href='#Page_36'>36</a></li>

<li>Plymouth, <a href='#Page_3'>3</a>, <a href='#Page_4'>4</a>, <a href='#Page_96'>96</a>, <a href='#Page_98'>98</a></li>

<li>Porto Bello, <a href='#Page_11'>11</a>, <a href='#Page_13'>13</a>, <a href='#Page_15'>15</a>;</li>
<li class="sub">description, <a href='#Page_150'>150</a> <i>et seq.</i>;</li>
<li class="sub">attacked and sacked, <a href='#Page_154'>154</a> <i>et seq.</i>; <a href='#Page_230'>230</a>, <a href='#Page_231'>231</a></li>

<li>Port Pheasant, <a href='#Page_5'>5</a></li>

<li>Port Royal, <a href='#Page_132'>132</a></li>

<li>&mdash;&mdash; Morgan's return to, <a href='#Page_215'>215</a></li>

<li>&mdash;&mdash; Dampier arrives at, <a href='#Page_221'>221</a></li>

<li>Porto Santo, <a href='#Page_4'>4</a></li>

<li>Provisions, <a href='#Page_326'>326</a>, <a href='#Page_327'>327</a>, <a href='#Page_328'>328</a></li>

<li>Puebla Nueva, <a href='#Page_256'>256</a></li>

<li>Puerto del Principe, <a href='#Page_140'>140</a>, <a href='#Page_141'>141</a> <i>et seq.</i></li>

<li>Pursers, <a href='#Page_314'>314</a></li>


<li class="section"><span class="smcap">Quartermasters</span>, <a href='#Page_314'>314</a></li>

<li>Quibo, <a href='#Page_256'>256</a>, <a href='#Page_257'>257</a>, <a href='#Page_258'>258</a>, <a href='#Page_259'>259</a></li>


<li class="section"><span class="smcap">Raft</span> (Drake's), <a href='#Page_89'>89</a>, <a href='#Page_90'>90</a></li>

<li>Rause, Captain, <a href='#Page_7'>7</a>, <a href='#Page_9'>9</a>, <a href='#Page_25'>25</a></li>

<li>Rigging, ancient, <a href='#Page_295'>295</a></li>

<li>Ringrose, Basil, <a href='#Page_234'>234</a>, <a href='#Page_237'>237</a>, <a href='#Page_241'>241</a>, <a href='#Page_243'>243</a>, <a href='#Page_244'>244</a>, <a href='#Page_247'>247</a>, <a href='#Page_248'>248</a>,
<a href='#Page_249'><ins class="correction" title="Transcriber's Note: original reads '349'">249</ins></a>,
<a href='#Page_250'>250</a></li>

<li>&mdash;&mdash; at Arica, <a href='#Page_267'>267</a>, <a href='#Page_268'>268</a>, <a href='#Page_269'>269</a>, <a href='#Page_273'>273</a>, <a href='#Page_288'>288</a>, <a href='#Page_289'>289</a></li>

<li>Rio de la Hacha, <a href='#Page_47'>47</a>, <a href='#Page_169'>169</a></li>

<li>Rio Grande, <a href='#Page_32'>32</a>, <a href='#Page_33'>33</a>, <a href='#Page_46'>46</a></li>

<li>Roundships, <a href='#Page_291'>291</a></li>


<li class="section"><span class="smcap">Sails</span>, <a href='#Page_294'>294</a>, <a href='#Page_295'>295</a>, <a href='#Page_296'>296</a>, <a href='#Page_297'>297</a></li>

<li>Sailing from port, <a href='#Page_322'>322</a>, <a href='#Page_323'>323</a></li>

<li>San Andreas, <a href='#Page_127'>127</a></li>

<li>&mdash;&mdash; Antonio, <a href='#Page_96'>96</a></li>

<li>&mdash;&mdash; Barnardo, <a href='#Page_26'>26</a>, <a href='#Page_28'>28</a>, <a href='#Page_40'>40</a>, <a href='#Page_50'>50</a>, <a href='#Page_94'>94</a></li>

<li>&mdash;&mdash; Domingo, <a href='#Page_106'>106</a>, <a href='#Page_107'>107</a>,</li>

<li>&mdash;&mdash; Juan d'Ulloa, <a href='#Page_1'>1</a>, <a href='#Page_2'>2</a>, <a href='#Page_12'>12</a>,</li>

<li>&mdash;&mdash; Miguel, <a href='#Page_277'>277</a></li>

<li>Santa Maria, <a href='#Page_232'>232</a>, <a href='#Page_238'>238</a>, <a href='#Page_239'>239</a>, <a href='#Page_240'>240</a>, <a href='#Page_253'>253</a></li>

<li>&mdash;&mdash; Martha, <a href='#Page_5'>5</a>, <a href='#Page_47'>47</a></li>

<li>&mdash;&mdash; Pecaque, <a href='#Page_289'>289</a></li>

<li>Savannahs, <a href='#Page_61'>61</a></li>

<li>Sawkins, Richard, Captain, <a href='#Page_229'>229</a>, <a href='#Page_233'>233</a>, <a href='#Page_236'>236</a>, <a href='#Page_240'>240</a>, <a href='#Page_243'>243</a>, <a href='#Page_248'>248</a>, <a href='#Page_249'>249</a>, <a href='#Page_250'>250</a>, <a href='#Page_253'>253</a>, <a href='#Page_254'>254</a>, <a href='#Page_255'>255</a>, <a href='#Page_256'>256</a>;</li>
<li class="sub">killed, <a href='#Page_257'>257</a>, <a href='#Page_262'>262</a>, <a href='#Page_263'>263</a>, <a href='#Page_281'>281</a></li>

<li>Scrivanos, <a href='#Page_28'>28</a>, <a href='#Page_41'>41</a>, <a href='#Page_53'>53</a></li>

<li>Sea-fighting, <a href='#Page_334'>334</a>, <a href='#Page_335'>335</a>, <a href='#Page_336'>336</a>, <a href='#Page_337'>337</a></li>

<li>Searles, Captain, <a href='#Page_206'>206</a></li>

<li>Sharp, Captain Bartholomew, <a href='#Page_229'>229</a>, <a href='#Page_233'>233</a>, <a href='#Page_237'>237</a>, <a href='#Page_238'>238</a>, <a href='#Page_241'>241</a>, <a href='#Page_242'>242</a>, <a href='#Page_243'>243</a>, <a href='#Page_244'>244</a>, <a href='#Page_252'>252</a>, <a href='#Page_253'>253</a>, <a href='#Page_254'>254</a>, <a href='#Page_255'>255</a>;</li>
<li class="sub">takes prizes, <a href='#Page_257'>257</a>;</li>
<li class="sub">elected admiral, <a href='#Page_258'>258</a>, <a href='#Page_259'>259</a>, <a href='#Page_262'>262</a>, <a href='#Page_265'>265</a>;</li>
<li class="sub">at Arica, <a href='#Page_267'>267</a>, <a href='#Page_270'>270</a>, <a href='#Page_271'>271</a>, <a href='#Page_274'>274</a>, <a href='#Page_275'>275</a>, <a href='#Page_288'>288</a>, <a href='#Page_289'>289</a>, <a href='#Page_290'>290</a></li>

<li>Ship-boys, <a href='#Page_319'>319</a></li>

<li>Simon Le Sieur, <a href='#Page_136'>136</a>, <a href='#Page_137'>137</a>, <a href='#Page_138'>138</a></li>

<li>Smith, Captain John, <a href='#Page_89'>89</a></li>

<li>Springer, Captain, <a href='#Page_248'>248</a></li>

<li>&mdash;&mdash; his key, <a href='#Page_286'>286</a></li>

<li>Stewards, <a href='#Page_315'>315</a></li>

<li>Swabbers, <a href='#Page_319'>319</a>, <a href='#Page_320'>320</a></li>

<li><i>Swan</i>, a ship, <a href='#Page_2'>2</a>, <a href='#Page_3'>3</a>, <a href='#Page_29'>29</a>, <a href='#Page_30'>30</a></li>


<li class="section"><span class="smcap">Tawnymores</span> (a ship of), <a href='#Page_247'>247</a>, <a href='#Page_248'>248</a>, <a href='#Page_249'>249</a>, <a href='#Page_251'>251</a></li>

<li>Tet&ucirc;, Captain, <a href='#Page_82'>82</a>, <a href='#Page_83'>83</a>, <a href='#Page_84'>84</a>, <a href='#Page_86'>86</a>;</li>
<li class="sub">hurt, <a href='#Page_86'>86</a>, <a href='#Page_87'>87</a>, <a href='#Page_91'>91</a></li>

<li>Tiburon, Cape, <a href='#Page_169'>169</a></li>

<li>Tocamora, <a href='#Page_231'>231</a></li>

<li>Tolu, <a href='#Page_6'>6</a>, <a href='#Page_36'>36</a>, <a href='#Page_53'>53</a>, <a href='#Page_79'>79</a></li>

<li>Top-arming, <a href='#Page_294'>294</a></li>

<li>Torna Munni, <a href='#Page_183'>183</a></li>

<li>Tortuga, <a href='#Page_111'>111</a>, <a href='#Page_112'>112</a>, <a href='#Page_115'>115</a>, <a href='#Page_117'>117</a></li>

<li>Tree (a great), <a href='#Page_60'>60</a>, <a href='#Page_61'>61</a></li>

<li><i>Trinity</i>, the Most Blessed, a Spanish galleon, <a href='#Page_206'>206</a>, <a href='#Page_251'>251</a>, <a href='#Page_253'>253</a>,
<a href='#Page_259'><ins class="correction" title="Transcriber's Note: original reads '359'">259</ins></a>,
<a href='#Page_260'>260</a>, <a href='#Page_261'>261</a>, <a href='#Page_263'>263</a>, <a href='#Page_264'>264</a>, <a href='#Page_288'>288</a>, <a href='#Page_289'>289</a></li>

<li>Tristian, Captain, <a href='#Page_285'>285</a></li>

<li>Trumpeters, <a href='#Page_318'>318</a></li>

<li>Tucker, Francis, <a href='#Page_95'>95</a></li>


<li class="section"><span class="smcap">Venables</span>, <a href='#Page_117'>117</a></li>

<li>Venta Cruz, <a href='#Page_25'>25</a>, <a href='#Page_62'>62</a>, <a href='#Page_65'>65</a>, <a href='#Page_68'>68</a>, <a href='#Page_69'>69</a>, <a href='#Page_70'>70</a>, <a href='#Page_71'>71</a>, <a href='#Page_72'>72</a>, <a href='#Page_73'>73</a>, <a href='#Page_75'>75</a>, <a href='#Page_85'>85</a>, <a href='#Page_187'>187</a>, <a href='#Page_212'>212</a></li>

<li>Veragua, <a href='#Page_78'>78</a>, <a href='#Page_79'>79</a>, <a href='#Page_80'>80</a>, <a href='#Page_81'>81</a></li>

<li>Villa del Rey, <a href='#Page_35'>35</a></li>


<li class="section"><span class="smcap">Wafer, Lionel</span>, <a href='#Page_234'>234</a>, <a href='#Page_276'>276</a>, <a href='#Page_281'>281</a>, <a href='#Page_282'>282</a>, <a href='#Page_283'>283</a>, <a href='#Page_284'>284</a>, <a href='#Page_285'>285</a>, <a href='#Page_287'>287</a></li>

<li>Watling, John, <a href='#Page_262'>262</a>, <a href='#Page_263'>263</a>, <a href='#Page_264'>264</a>, <a href='#Page_266'>266</a>;</li>
<li class="sub">attacks Arica, <a href='#Page_267'>267</a>, <a href='#Page_268'>268</a>, <a href='#Page_269'>269</a>;</li>
<li class="sub">shot, <a href='#Page_270'>270</a></li>


<li class="section"><span class="smcap">Ylo</span>, <a href='#Page_260'>260</a>, <a href='#Page_273'>273</a>, <a href='#Page_274'>274</a></li>

<li>Yqueque, <a href='#Page_264'>264</a>, <a href='#Page_265'>265</a></li>

<li>Younkers, <a href='#Page_320'>320</a></li>

<li>Ysabel Nueva, <a href='#Page_106'>106</a></li></ul>
</html>