There must have been something in the daring courage of this Frenchman
and his little band of followers, which gave him favor in the eyes of
the Spanish captain, for there was no other reason for the good
treatment which the buccaneers received.

They were not put to the sword nor thrown overboard, not sent on shore
and made to work as slaves,--three very common methods of treating
prisoners in those days. But they were all set free, and put on land,
where they might go where they pleased.

This unfortunate result of the bold enterprise undertaken by Pierre
François was deeply deplored, not only at Tortuga, but in England and in
France. If this bold buccaneer had captured the pearl fleet, it would
have been a victory that would have made a hero of him on each side of
the Atlantic, but had he even been able to get away with the one vessel
he had seized, he would have been a rich man, and might have retired to
a life of ease and affluence; the vessel he had captured proved to be
one of the richest laden of the whole fleet, and not only in the heart
of Pierre and his men, but among his sympathizers in Europe and America,
there was great disappointment at the loss of that mainmast, which,
until it cracked, was carrying him forward to fame and fortune.




Chapter VI

The Surprising Adventures of Bartholemy Portuguez


As we have seen that the buccaneers were mainly English, French, and
Dutch sailors, who were united to make a common piratical warfare upon
the Spaniards in the West Indies, it may seem a little strange to find a
man from Portugal who seemed to be on the wrong side of this peculiar
fight which was going on in the new world between the sailors of
Northern and Southern Europe. But although Portugal is such a close
neighbor of Spain, the two countries have often been at war with each
other, and their interests are by no means the same. The only advantage
that Portugal could expect from the newly discovered treasures of the
West were those which her seafaring men, acting with the seafaring men
of other nations, should wrest from Spanish vessels homeward bound.

Consequently, there were Portuguese among the pirates of those days.
Among these was a man named Bartholemy Portuguez, a famous
_flibustier_.

It may be here remarked that the name of buccaneer was chiefly affected
by the English adventurers on our coast, while the French members of the
profession often preferred the name of "flibustier." This word, which
has since been corrupted into our familiar "filibuster," is said to have
been originally a corruption, being nothing more than the French method
of pronouncing the word "freebooters," which title had long been used
for independent robbers.

Thus, although Bartholemy called himself a flibustier, he was really a
buccaneer, and his name came to be known all over the Caribbean Sea.
From the accounts we have of him it appears that he did not start out on
his career of piracy as a poor man. He had some capital to invest in the
business, and when he went over to the West Indies he took with him a
small ship, armed with four small cannon, and manned by a crew of picked
men, many of them no doubt professional robbers, and the others anxious
for practice in this most alluring vocation, for the gold fields of
California were never more attractive to the bold and hardy adventurers
of our country, than were the gold fields of the sea to the buccaneers
and flibustiers of the seventeenth century.

When Bartholemy reached the Caribbean Sea he probably first touched at
Tortuga, the pirates' headquarters, and then sailed out very much as if
he had been a fisherman going forth to see what he could catch on the
sea. He cruised about on the track generally taken by treasure ships
going from the mainland to the Havanas, or the island of Hispaniola, and
when at last he sighted a vessel in the distance, it was not long before
he and his men had made up their minds that if they were to have any
sport that day it would be with what might be called most decidedly a
game fish, for the ship slowly sailing toward them was a large Spanish
vessel, and from her portholes there protruded the muzzles of at least
twenty cannon. Of course, they knew that such a vessel would have a much
larger crew than their own, and, altogether, Bartholemy was very much in
the position of a man who should go out to harpoon a sturgeon, and who
should find himself confronted by a vicious swordfish.

The Spanish merchantmen of that day were generally well armed, for
getting home safely across the Atlantic was often the most difficult
part of the treasure-seeking. There were many of these ships, which,
although they did not belong to the Spanish navy, might almost be
designated as men-of-war; and it was one of these with which our
flibustier had now met.

But pirates and fishermen cannot afford to pick and choose. They must
take what comes to them and make the best of it, and this is exactly
the way in which the matter presented itself to Bartholemy and his men.
They held one of their councils around the mast, and after an address
from their leader, they decided that come what may, they must attack
that Spanish vessel.

So the little pirate sailed boldly toward the big Spaniard, and the
latter vessel, utterly astonished at the audacity of this attack,--for
the pirates' flag was flying,--lay to, head to the wind, and waited, the
gunners standing by their cannon. When the pirates had come near enough
to see and understand the size and power of the vessel they had thought
of attacking, they did not, as might have been expected, put about and
sail away at the best of their vessel's speed, but they kept straight on
their course as if they had been about to fall upon a great, unwieldy
merchantman, manned by common sailors.

Perceiving the foolhardiness of the little vessel, the Spanish commander
determined to give it a lesson which would teach its captain to
understand better the relative power of great vessels and little ones,
so, as soon as the pirates' vessel was near enough, he ordered a
broadside fired upon it. The Spanish ship had a great many people on
board. It had a crew of seventy men, and besides these there were some
passengers, and regular marines, and knowing that the captain had
determined to fire upon the approaching vessel, everybody had gathered
on deck to see the little pirate ship go down.

But the ten great cannon-balls which were shot out at Bartholemy's
little craft all missed their aim, and before the guns could be reloaded
or the great ship be got around so as to deliver her other broadside,
the pirate vessel was alongside of her. Bartholemy had fired none of his
cannon. Such guns were useless against so huge a foe. What he was after
was a hand-to-hand combat on the deck of the Spanish ship.

The pirates were all ready for hot work. They had thrown aside their
coats and shirts as if each of them were going into a prize fight, and,
with their cutlasses in their hands, and their pistols and knives in
their belts, they scrambled like monkeys up the sides of the great ship.
But Spaniards are brave men and good fighters, and there were more than
twice as many of them as there were of the pirates, and it was not long
before the latter found out that they could not capture that vessel by
boarding it. So over the side they tumbled as fast as they could go,
leaving some of their number dead and wounded behind them. They jumped
into their own vessel, and then they put off to a short distance to take
breath and get ready for a different kind of a fight. The triumphant
Spaniards now prepared to get rid of this boat load of half-naked wild
beasts, which they could easily do if they should take better aim with
their cannon than they had done before.

But to their amazement they soon found that they could do nothing with
the guns, nor were they able to work their ship so as to get it into
position for effectual shots. Bartholemy and his men laid aside their
cutlasses and their pistols, and took up their muskets, with which they
were well provided. Their vessel lay within a very short range of the
Spanish ship, and whenever a man could be seen through the portholes, or
showed himself in the rigging or anywhere else where it was necessary to
go in order to work the ship, he made himself a target for the good aim
of the pirates. The pirate vessel could move about as it pleased, for it
required but a few men to manage it, and so it kept out of the way of
the Spanish guns, and its best marksmen, crouching close to the deck,
fired and fired whenever a Spanish head was to be seen.

For five long hours this unequal contest was kept up. It might have
reminded one of a man with a slender rod and a long, delicate line, who
had hooked a big salmon. The man could not pull in the salmon, but, on
the other hand, the salmon could not hurt the man, and in the course of
time the big fish would be tired out, and the man would get out his
landing-net and scoop him in.

Now Bartholemy thought he could scoop in the Spanish vessel. So many of
her men had been shot that the two crews would be more nearly equal. So,
boldly, he ran his vessel alongside the big ship and again boarded her.
Now there was another great fight on the decks. The Spaniards had ceased
to be triumphant, but they had become desperate, and in the furious
combat ten of the pirates were killed and four wounded. But the
Spaniards fared worse than that; more than half of the men who had not
been shot by the pirates went down before their cutlasses and pistols,
and it was not long before Bartholemy had captured the great Spanish
ship.

It was a fearful and a bloody victory he had gained. A great part of his
own men were lying dead or helpless on the deck, and of the Spaniards
only forty were left alive, and these, it appears from the accounts,
must have been nearly all wounded or disabled.

It was a common habit among the buccaneers, as well as among the
Spaniards, to kill all prisoners who were not able to work for them, but
Bartholemy does not seem to have arrived at the stage of depravity
necessary for this. So he determined not to kill his prisoners, but he
put them all into a boat and let them go where they pleased; while he
was left with fifteen men to work a great vessel which required a crew
of five times that number.

But the men who could conquer and capture a ship against such enormous
odds, felt themselves fully capable of working her, even with their
little crew. Before doing anything in the way of navigation they cleared
the decks of the dead bodies, taking from them all watches, trinkets,
and money, and then went below to see what sort of a prize they had
gained. They found it a very good one indeed. There were seventy-five
thousand crowns in money, besides a cargo of cocoa worth five thousand
more, and this, combined with the value of the ship and all its
fittings, was a great fortune for those days.

When the victorious pirates had counted their gains and had mended the
sails and rigging of their new ship, they took what they wanted out of
their own vessel, and left her to sink or to float as she pleased, and
then they sailed away in the direction of the island of Jamaica. But the
winds did not suit them, and, as their crew was so very small, they
could not take advantage of light breezes as they could have done if
they had had men enough. Consequently they were obliged to stop to get
water before they reached the friendly vicinity of Jamaica.

They cast anchor at Cape St. Anthony on the west end of Cuba. After a
considerable delay at this place they started out again to resume their
voyage, but it was not long before they perceived, to their horror,
three Spanish vessels coming towards them. It was impossible for a very
large ship, manned by an extremely small crew, to sail away from those
fully equipped vessels, and as to attempting to defend themselves
against the overwhelming power of the antagonists, that was too absurd
to be thought of even by such a reckless fellow as Bartholemy. So, when
the ship was hailed by the Spanish vessels he lay to and waited until a
boat's crew boarded him. With the eye of a nautical man the Spanish
captain of one of the ships perceived that something was the matter with
this vessel, for its sails and rigging were terribly cut up in the long
fight through which it had passed, and of course he wanted to know what
had happened. When he found that the great ship was in the possession of
a very small body of pirates, Bartholemy and his men were immediately
made prisoners, taken on board the Spanish ship, stripped of everything
they possessed, even their clothes, and shut up in the hold. A crew from
the Spanish ships was sent to man the vessel which had been captured,
and then the little fleet set sail for San Francisco in Campeachy.

An hour had worked a very great change in the fortunes of Bartholemy and
his men; in the fine cabin of their grand prize they had feasted and
sung, and had gloried over their wonderful success, and now, in the
vessel of their captor, they were shut up in the dark, to be enslaved or
perhaps executed.

But it is not likely that any one of them either despaired or repented;
these are sentiments very little in use by pirates.




Chapter VII

The Pirate who could not Swim


When the little fleet of Spanish vessels, including the one which had
been captured by Bartholemy Portuguez and his men, were on their way to
Campeachy, they met with very stormy weather so that they were
separated, and the ship which contained Bartholemy and his companions
arrived first at the port for which they were bound.

The captain, who had Bartholemy and the others in charge, did not know
what an important capture he had made; he supposed that these pirates
were ordinary buccaneers, and it appears that it was his intention to
keep them as his own private prisoners, for, as they were all very
able-bodied men, they would be extremely useful on a ship. But when his
vessel was safely moored, and it became known in the town that he had a
company of pirates on board, a great many people came from shore to see
these savage men, who were probably looked upon very much as if they
were a menagerie of wild beasts brought from foreign lands.

Among the sightseers who came to the ship was a merchant of the town who
had seen Bartholemy before, and who had heard of his various exploits.
He therefore went to the captain of the vessel and informed him that he
had on board one of the very worst pirates in the whole world, whose
wicked deeds were well known in various parts of the West Indies, and
who ought immediately to be delivered up to the civil authorities. This
proposal, however, met with no favor from the Spanish captain, who had
found Bartholemy a very quiet man, and could see that he was a very
strong one, and he did not at all desire to give up such a valuable
addition to his crew. But the merchant grew very angry, for he knew that
Bartholemy had inflicted great injury on Spanish commerce, and as the
captain would not listen to him, he went to the Governor of the town and
reported the case. When this dignitary heard the story he immediately
sent a party of officers to the ship, and commanded the captain to
deliver the pirate leader into their charge. The other men were left
where they were, but Bartholemy was taken away and confined in another
ship. The merchant, who seemed to know a great deal about him, informed
the authorities that this terrible pirate had been captured several
times, but that he had always managed to escape, and, therefore, he was
put in irons, and preparations were made to execute him on the next day;
for, from what he had heard, the Governor considered that this pirate
was no better than a wild beast, and that he should be put to death
without even the formality of a trial.

But there was a Spanish soldier on board the ship who seemed to have had
some pity, or perhaps some admiration, for the daring pirate, and he
thought that if he were to be hung the next day it was no more than
right to let him know it, so that when he went in to take some food to
Bartholemy he told him what was to happen.

Now this pirate captain was a man who always wanted to have a share in
what was to happen, and he immediately racked his brain to find out what
he could do in this case. He had never been in a more desperate
situation, but he did not lose heart, and immediately set to work to
free himself from his irons, which were probably very clumsy affairs. At
last, caring little how much he scratched and tore his skin, he
succeeded in getting rid of his fetters, and could move about as freely
as a tiger in a cage. To get out of this cage was Bartholemy's first
object. It would be comparatively easy, because in the course of time
some one would come into the hold, and the athletic buccaneer thought
that he could easily get the better of whoever might open the hatch.
But the next act in this truly melodramatic performance would be a great
deal more difficult; for in order to escape from the ship it would be
absolutely necessary for Bartholemy to swim to shore, and he did not
know how to swim, which seems a strange failing in a hardy sailor with
so many other nautical accomplishments. In the rough hold where he was
shut up, our pirate, peering about, anxious and earnest, discovered two
large, earthen jars in which wine had been brought from Spain, and with
these he determined to make a sort of life-preserver. He found some
pieces of oiled cloth, which he tied tightly over the open mouths of the
jars and fastened them with cords. He was satisfied that this unwieldy
contrivance would support him in the water.

Among other things he had found in his rummagings about the hold was an
old knife, and with this in his hand he now sat waiting for a good
opportunity to attack his sentinel.

This came soon after nightfall. A man descended with a lantern to see
that the prisoner was still secure,--let us hope that it was not the
soldier who had kindly informed him of his fate,--and as soon as he was
fairly in the hold Bartholemy sprang upon him. There was a fierce
struggle, but the pirate was quick and powerful, and the sentinel was
soon dead. Then, carrying his two jars, Bartholemy climbed swiftly and
noiselessly up the short ladder, came out on deck in the darkness, made
a rush toward the side of the ship, and leaped overboard. For a moment
he sank below the surface, but the two air-tight jars quickly rose and
bore him up with them. There was a bustle on board the ship, there was
some random firing of muskets in the direction of the splashing which
the watch had heard, but none of the balls struck the pirate or his
jars, and he soon floated out of sight and hearing. Kicking out with his
legs, and paddling as well as he could with one hand while he held on to
the jars with the other, he at last managed to reach the land, and ran
as fast as he could into the dark woods beyond the town.

Bartholemy was now greatly in fear that, when his escape was discovered,
he would be tracked by bloodhounds,--for these dogs were much used by
the Spaniards in pursuing escaping slaves or prisoners,--and he
therefore did not feel safe in immediately making his way along the
coast, which was what he wished to do. If the hounds should get upon his
trail, he was a lost man. The desperate pirate, therefore, determined to
give the bloodhounds no chance to follow him, and for three days he
remained in a marshy forest, in the dark recesses of which he could
hide, and where the water, which covered the ground, prevented the dogs
from following his scent. He had nothing to eat except a few roots of
water-plants, but he was accustomed to privation, and these kept him
alive. Often he heard the hounds baying on the dry land adjoining the
marsh, and sometimes he saw at night distant torches, which he was sure
were carried by men who were hunting for him.

But at last the pursuit seemed to be given up; and hearing no more dogs
and seeing no more flickering lights, Bartholemy left the marsh and set
out on his long journey down the coast. The place he wished to reach was
called Golpho Triste, which was forty leagues away, but where he had
reason to suppose he would find some friends. When he came out from
among the trees, he mounted a small hill and looked back upon the town.
The public square was lighted, and there in the middle of it he saw the
gallows which had been erected for his execution, and this sight,
doubtless, animated him very much during the first part of his journey.

The terrible trials and hardships which Bartholemy experienced during
his tramp along the coast were such as could have been endured only by
one of the strongest and toughest of men. He had found in the marsh an
old gourd, or calabash, which he had filled with fresh water,--for he
could expect nothing but sea-water during his journey,--and as for
solid food he had nothing but the raw shellfish which he found upon the
rocks; but after a diet of roots, shellfish must have been a very
agreeable change, and they gave him all the strength and vigor he
needed. Very often he found streams and inlets which he was obliged to
ford, and as he could see that they were always filled with alligators,
the passage of them was not very pleasant. His method of getting across
one of these narrow streams, was to hurl rocks into the water until he
had frightened away the alligators immediately in front of him, and
then, when he had made for himself what seemed to be a free passage, he
would dash in and hurry across.

At other times great forests stretched down to the very coast, and
through these he was obliged to make his way, although he could hear the
roars and screams of wild beasts all about him. Any one who is afraid to
go down into a dark cellar to get some apples from a barrel at the foot
of the stairs, can have no idea of the sort of mind possessed by
Bartholemy Portuguez. The animals might howl around him and glare at him
with their shining eyes, and the alligators might lash the water into
foam with their great tails, but he was bound for Golpho Triste and was
not to be stopped on his way by anything alive.

But at last he came to something not alive, which seemed to be an
obstacle which would certainly get the better of him. This was a wide
river, flowing through the inland country into the sea. He made his way
up the shore of this river for a considerable distance, but it grew but
little narrower, and he could see no chance of getting across. He could
not swim and he had no wine-jars now with which to buoy himself up, and
if he had been able to swim he would probably have been eaten up by
alligators soon after he left the shore. But a man in his situation
would not be likely to give up readily; he had done so much that he was
ready to do more if he could only find out what to do.

Now a piece of good fortune happened to him, although to an ordinary
traveller it might have been considered a matter of no importance
whatever. On the edge of the shore, where it had floated down from some
region higher up the river, Bartholemy perceived an old board, in which
there were some long and heavy rusty nails. Greatly encouraged by this
discovery the indefatigable traveller set about a work which resembled
that of the old woman who wanted a needle, and who began to rub a
crow-bar on a stone in order to reduce it to the proper size. Bartholemy
carefully knocked all the nails out of the board, and then finding a
large flat stone, he rubbed down one of them until he had formed it
into the shape of a rude knife blade, which he made as sharp as he
could. Then with these tools he undertook the construction of a raft,
working away like a beaver, and using the sharpened nails instead of his
teeth. He cut down a number of small trees, and when he had enough of
these slender trunks he bound them together with reeds and osiers, which
he found on the river bank. So, after infinite labor and trial he
constructed a raft which would bear him on the surface of the water.
When he had launched this he got upon it, gathering up his legs so as to
keep out of reach of the alligators, and with a long pole pushed himself
off from shore. Sometimes paddling and sometimes pushing his pole
against the bottom, he at last got across the river and took up his
journey upon dry land.

But our pirate had not progressed very far upon the other side of the
river before he met with a new difficulty of a very formidable
character. This was a great forest of mangrove trees, which grow in
muddy and watery places and which have many roots, some coming down from
the branches, and some extending themselves in a hopeless tangle in the
water and mud. It would have been impossible for even a stork to walk
through this forest, but as there was no way of getting around it
Bartholemy determined to go through it, even if he could not walk. No
athlete of the present day, no matter if he should be a most
accomplished circus-man, could reasonably expect to perform the feat
which this bold pirate successfully accomplished. For five or six
leagues he went through that mangrove forest, never once setting his
foot upon the ground,--by which is meant mud, water, and roots,--but
swinging himself by his hands and arms, from branch to branch, as if he
had been a great ape, only resting occasionally, drawing himself upon a
stout limb where he might sit for a while and get his breath. If he had
slipped while he was swinging from one limb to another and had gone down
into the mire and roots beneath him, it is likely that he would never
have been able to get out alive. But he made no slips. He might not have
had the agility and grace of a trapeze performer, but his grasp was
powerful and his arms were strong, and so he swung and clutched, and
clutched and swung, until he had gone entirely through the forest and
had come out on the open coast.




Chapter VIII

How Bartholemy rested Himself


It was full two weeks from the time that Bartholemy began his most
adventurous and difficult journey before he reached the little town of
Golpho Triste, where, as he had hoped, he found some of his buccaneer
friends. Now that his hardships and dangers were over, and when, instead
of roots and shellfish, he could sit down to good, plentiful meals, and
stretch himself upon a comfortable bed, it might have been supposed that
Bartholemy would have given himself a long rest, but this hardy pirate
had no desire for a vacation at this time. Instead of being worn out and
exhausted by his amazing exertions and semi-starvation, he arrived among
his friends vigorous and energetic and exceedingly anxious to recommence
business as soon as possible. He told them of all that had happened to
him, what wonderful good fortune had come to him, and what terrible bad
fortune had quickly followed it, and when he had related his adventures
and his dangers he astonished even his piratical friends by asking them
to furnish him with a small vessel and about twenty men, in order that
he might go back and revenge himself, not only for what had happened to
him, but for what would have happened if he had not taken his affairs
into his own hands.

To do daring and astounding deeds is part of the business of a pirate,
and although it was an uncommonly bold enterprise that Bartholemy
contemplated, he got his vessel and he got his men, and away he sailed.
After a voyage of about eight days he came in sight of the little
seaport town, and sailing slowly along the coast, he waited until
nightfall before entering the harbor. Anchored at a considerable
distance from shore was the great Spanish ship on which he had been a
prisoner, and from which he would have been taken and hung in the public
square; the sight of the vessel filled his soul with a savage fury known
only to pirates and bull dogs.

As the little vessel slowly approached the great ship, the people on
board the latter thought it was a trading-vessel from shore, and allowed
it to come alongside, such small craft seldom coming from the sea. But
the moment Bartholemy reached the ship he scrambled up its side almost
as rapidly as he had jumped down from it with his two wine-jars a few
weeks before, and every one of his crew, leaving their own vessel to
take care of itself, scrambled up after him.

Nobody on board was prepared to defend the ship. It was the same old
story; resting quietly in a peaceful harbor, what danger had they to
expect? As usual the pirates had everything their own way; they were
ready to fight, and the others were not, and they were led by a man who
was determined to take that ship without giving even a thought to the
ordinary alternative of dying in the attempt. The affair was more of a
massacre than a combat, and there were people on board who did not know
what was taking place until the vessel had been captured.

As soon as Bartholemy was master of the great vessel he gave orders to
slip the cable and hoist the sails, for he was anxious to get out of
that harbor as quickly as possible. The fight had apparently attracted
no attention in the town, but there were ships in the port whose company
the bold buccaneer did not at all desire, and as soon as possible he got
his grand prize under way and went sailing out of the port.

Now, indeed, was Bartholemy triumphant; the ship he had captured was a
finer one and a richer one than that other vessel which had been taken
from him. It was loaded with valuable merchandise, and we may here
remark that for some reason or other all Spanish vessels of that day
which were so unfortunate as to be taken by pirates, seemed to be richly
laden.

If our bold pirate had sung wild pirate songs, as he passed the flowing
bowl while carousing with his crew in the cabin of the Spanish vessel he
had first captured, he now sang wilder songs, and passed more flowing
bowls, for this prize was a much greater one than the first. If
Bartholemy could have communicated his great good fortune to the other
buccaneers in the West Indies, there would have been a boom in piracy
which would have threatened great danger to the honesty and integrity of
the seafaring men of that region.

But nobody, not even a pirate, has any way of finding out what is going
to happen next, and if Bartholemy had had an idea of the fluctuations
which were about to occur in the market in which he had made his
investments he would have been in a great hurry to sell all his stock
very much below par. The fluctuations referred to occurred on the ocean,
near the island of Pinos, and came in the shape of great storm waves,
which blew the Spanish vessel with all its rich cargo, and its
triumphant pirate crew, high up upon the cruel rocks, and wrecked it
absolutely and utterly. Bartholemy and his men barely managed to get
into a little boat, and row themselves away. All the wealth and
treasure which had come to them with the capture of the Spanish vessel,
all the power which the possession of that vessel gave them, and all the
wild joy which came to them with riches and power, were lost to them in
as short a space of time as it had taken to gain them.

In the way of well-defined and conspicuous ups and downs, few lives
surpassed that of Bartholemy Portuguez. But after this he seems, in the
language of the old English song, "All in the downs." He had many
adventures after the desperate affair in the bay of Campeachy, but they
must all have turned out badly for him, and, consequently, very well, it
is probable, for divers and sundry Spanish vessels, and, for the rest of
his life, he bore the reputation of an unfortunate pirate. He was one of
those men whose success seemed to have depended entirely upon his own
exertions. If there happened to be the least chance of his doing
anything, he generally did it; Spanish cannon, well-armed Spanish crews,
manacles, imprisonment, the dangers of the ocean to a man who could not
swim, bloodhounds, alligators, wild beasts, awful forests impenetrable
to common men, all these were bravely met and triumphed over by
Bartholemy.

But when he came to ordinary good fortune, such as any pirate might
expect, Bartholemy the Portuguese found that he had no chance at all.
But he was not a common pirate, and was, therefore, obliged to be
content with his uncommon career. He eventually settled in the island of
Jamaica, but nobody knows what became of him. If it so happened that he
found himself obliged to make his living by some simple industry, such
as the selling of fruit upon a street corner, it is likely he never
disposed of a banana or an orange unless he jumped at the throat of a
passer-by and compelled him to purchase. As for sitting still and
waiting for customers to come to him, such a man as Bartholemy would not
be likely to do anything so commonplace.




Chapter IX

A Pirate Author


In the days which we are considering there were all sorts of pirates,
some of whom gained much reputation in one way and some in another, but
there was one of them who had a disposition different from that of any
of his fellows. He was a regular pirate, but it is not likely that he
ever did much fighting, for, as he took great pride in the brave deeds
of the Brethren of the Coast, he would have been sure to tell us of his
own if he had ever performed any. He was a mild-mannered man, and,
although he was a pirate, he eventually laid aside the pistol, the
musket, and the cutlass, and took up the pen,--a very uncommon weapon
for a buccaneer.

This man was John Esquemeling, supposed by some to be a Dutchman, and by
others a native of France. He sailed to the West Indies in the year
1666, in the service of the French West India Company. He went out as a
peaceable merchant clerk, and had no more idea of becoming a pirate
than he had of going into literature, although he finally did both.

At that time the French West India Company had a colonial establishment
on the island of Tortuga, which was principally inhabited, as we have
seen before, by buccaneers in all their various grades and stages, from
beef-driers to pirates. The French authorities undertook to supply these
erratic people with the goods and provisions which they needed, and
built storehouses with everything necessary for carrying on the trade.
There were plenty of purchasers, for the buccaneers were willing to buy
everything which could be brought from Europe. They were fond of good
wine, good groceries, good firearms, and ammunition, fine cutlasses, and
very often good clothes, in which they could disport themselves when on
shore. But they had peculiar customs and manners, and although they were
willing to buy as much as the French traders had to sell, they could not
be prevailed upon to pay their bills. A pirate is not the sort of a man
who generally cares to pay his bills. When he gets goods in any way, he
wants them charged to him, and if that charge includes the features of
robbery and murder, he will probably make no objection. But as for
paying good money for what is received, that is quite another thing.

That this was the state of feeling on the island of Tortuga was
discovered before very long by the French mercantile agents, who then
applied to the mother country for assistance in collecting the debts due
them, and a body of men, who might be called collectors, or deputy
sheriffs, was sent out to the island; but although these officers were
armed with pistols and swords, as well as with authority, they could do
nothing with the buccaneers, and after a time the work of endeavoring to
collect debts from pirates was given up. And as there was no profit in
carrying on business in this way, the mercantile agency was also given
up, and its officers were ordered to sell out everything they had on
hand, and come home. There was, therefore, a sale, for which cash
payments were demanded, and there was a great bargain day on the island
of Tortuga. Everything was disposed of,--the stock of merchandise on
hand, the tables, the desks, the stationery, the bookkeepers, the
clerks, and the errand boys. The living items of the stock on hand were
considered to be property just as if they had been any kind of
merchandise, and were sold as slaves.

Now poor John Esquemeling found himself in a sad condition. He was
bought by one of the French officials who had been left on the island,
and he described his new master as a veritable fiend. He was worked
hard, half fed, treated cruelly in many ways, and to add to his misery,
his master tantalized him by offering to set him free upon the payment
of a sum of money equal to about three hundred dollars. He might as well
have been asked to pay three thousand or three million dollars, for he
had not a penny in the world.

At last he was so fortunate as to fall sick, and his master, as
avaricious as he was cruel, fearing that this creature he owned might
die, and thus be an entire loss to him, sold him to a surgeon, very much
as one would sell a sick horse to a veterinary surgeon, on the principle
that he might make something out of the animal by curing him.

His new master treated Esquemeling very well, and after he had taken
medicine and food enough to set him upon his legs, and had worked for
the surgeon about a year, that kind master offered him his liberty if he
would promise, as soon as he could earn the money, to pay him one
hundred dollars, which would be a profit to his owner, who had paid but
seventy dollars for him. This offer, of course, Esquemeling accepted
with delight, and having made the bargain, he stepped forth upon the
warm sands of the island of Tortuga a free and happy man. But he was as
poor as a church mouse. He had nothing in the world but the clothes on
his back, and he saw no way in which he could make money enough to keep
himself alive until he had paid for himself. He tried various ways of
support, but there was no opening for a young business man in that
section of the country, and at last he came to the conclusion that there
was only one way by which he could accomplish his object, and he
therefore determined to enter into "the wicked order of pirates or
robbers at sea."

It must have been a strange thing for a man accustomed to pens and ink,
to yard-sticks and scales, to feel obliged to enroll himself into a
company of bloody, big-bearded pirates, but a man must eat, and
buccaneering was the only profession open to our ex-clerk. For some
reason or other, certainly not on account of his bravery and daring,
Esquemeling was very well received by the pirates of Tortuga. Perhaps
they liked him because he was a mild-mannered man and so different from
themselves. Nobody was afraid of him, every one felt superior to him,
and we are all very apt to like people to whom we feel superior.

As for Esquemeling himself, he soon came to entertain the highest
opinion of his pirate companions. He looked upon the buccaneers who had
distinguished themselves as great heroes, and it must have been
extremely gratifying to those savage fellows to tell Esquemeling all the
wonderful things they had done. In the whole of the West Indies there
was no one who was in the habit of giving such intelligent attention to
the accounts of piratical depredations and savage sea-fights, as was
Esquemeling and if he had demanded a salary as a listener there is no
doubt that it would have been paid to him.

It was not long before his intense admiration of the buccaneers and
their performances began to produce in him the feeling that the history
of these great exploits should not be lost to the world, and so he set
about writing the lives and adventures of many of the buccaneers with
whom he became acquainted.

He remained with the pirates for several years, and during that time
worked very industriously getting material together for his history.
When he returned to his own country in 1672, having done as much
literary work as was possible among the uncivilized surroundings of
Tortuga, he there completed a book, which he called, "The Buccaneers of
America, or The True Account of the Most Remarkable Assaults Committed
of Late Years Upon the Coasts of the West Indies by the Buccaneers,
etc., by John Esquemeling, One of the Buccaneers, Who Was Present at
Those Tragedies."

From this title it is probable that our literary pirate accompanied his
comrades on their various voyages and assaults, in the capacity of
reporter, and although he states he was present at many of "those
tragedies," he makes no reference to any deeds of valor or cruelty
performed by himself, which shows him to have been a wonderfully
conscientious historian. There are persons, however, who doubt his
impartiality, because, as he liked the French, he always gave the
pirates of that nationality the credit for most of the bravery displayed
on their expeditions, and all of the magnanimity and courtesy, if there
happened to be any, while the surliness, brutality, and extraordinary
wickednesses were all ascribed to the English. But be this as it may,
Esquemeling's history was a great success. It was written in Dutch and
was afterwards translated into English, French, and Spanish. It
contained a great deal of information regarding buccaneering in general,
and most of the stories of pirates which we have already told, and many
of the surprising narrations which are to come, have been taken from the
book of this buccaneer historian.




Chapter X

The Story of Roc, the Brazilian


Having given the history of a very plain and quiet buccaneer, who was a
reporter and writer, and who, if he were now living, would be eligible
as a member of an Authors' Club, we will pass to the consideration of a
regular out-and-out pirate, one from whose mast-head would have floated
the black flag with its skull and cross-bones if that emblematic piece
of bunting had been in use by the pirates of the period.

This famous buccaneer was called Roc, because he had to have a name, and
his own was unknown, and "the Brazilian," because he was born in Brazil,
though of Dutch parents. Unlike most of his fellow-practitioners he did
not gradually become a pirate. From his early youth he never had an
intention of being anything else. As soon as he grew to be a man he
became a bloody buccaneer, and at the first opportunity he joined a
pirate crew, and had made but a few voyages when it was perceived by his
companions that he was destined to become a most remarkable sea-robber.
He was offered the command of a ship with a well-armed crew of marine
savages, and in a very short time after he had set out on his first
independent cruise he fell in with a Spanish ship loaded with silver
bullion; having captured this, he sailed with his prize to Jamaica,
which was one of the great resorts of the English buccaneers. There his
success delighted the community, his talents for the conduct of great
piratical operations soon became apparent, and he was generally
acknowledged as the Head Pirate of the West Indies.

He was now looked upon as a hero even by those colonists who had no
sympathy with pirates, and as for Esquemeling, he simply worshipped the
great Brazilian desperado. If he had been writing the life and times of
Alexander the Great, Julius Cæsar, or Mr. Gladstone, he could not have
been more enthusiastic in his praises. And as in The Arabian Nights the
roc is described as the greatest of birds, so, in the eyes of the
buccaneer biographer, this Roc was the greatest of pirates. But it was
not only in the mind of the historian that Roc now became famous; the
better he became known, the more general was the fear and respect felt
for him, and we are told that the mothers of the islands used to put
their children to sleep by threatening them with the terrible Roc if
they did not close their eyes. This story, however, I regard with a
great deal of doubt; it has been told of Saladin and many other wicked
and famous men, but I do not believe it is an easy thing to frighten a
child into going to sleep. If I found it necessary to make a youngster
take a nap, I should say nothing of the condition of affairs in Cuba or
of the persecutions of the Armenians.

This renowned pirate from Brazil must have been a terrible fellow to
look at. He was strong and brawny, his face was short and very wide,
with high cheek-bones, and his expression probably resembled that of a
pug dog. His eyebrows were enormously large and bushy, and from under
them he glared at his mundane surroundings. He was not a man whose
spirit could be quelled by looking him steadfastly in the eye. It was
his custom in the daytime to walk about, carrying a drawn cutlass,
resting easily upon his arm, edge up, very much as a fine gentleman
carries his high silk hat, and any one who should impertinently stare or
endeavor to quell his high spirits in any other way, would probably have
felt the edge of that cutlass descending rapidly through his physical
organism.

He was a man who insisted upon being obeyed, and if any one of his crew
behaved improperly, or was even found idle, this strict and inexorable
master would cut him down where he stood. But although he was so strict
and exacting during the business sessions of his piratical year, by
which I mean when he was cruising around after prizes, he was very much
more disagreeable when he was taking a vacation. On his return to
Jamaica after one of his expeditions it was his habit to give himself
some relaxation after the hardships and dangers through which he had
passed, and on such occasions it was a great comfort to Roc to get
himself thoroughly drunk. With his cutlass waving high in the air, he
would rush out into the street and take a whack at every one whom he
met. As far as was possible the citizens allowed him to have the street
to himself, and it was not at all likely that his visits to Jamaica were
looked forward to with any eager anticipations.

Roc, it may be said, was not only a bloody pirate, but a blooded one; he
was thoroughbred. From the time he had been able to assert his
individuality he had been a pirate, and there was no reason to suppose
that he would ever reform himself into anything else. There were no
extenuating circumstances in his case; in his nature there was no alloy,
nor moderation, nor forbearance. The appreciative Esquemeling, who might
be called the Boswell of the buccaneers, could never have met his hero
Roc, when that bushy-bearded pirate was running "amuck" in the streets,
but if he had, it is not probable that his book would have been written.
He assures us that when Roc was not drunk he was esteemed, but at the
same time feared; but there are various ways of gaining esteem, and
Roc's method certainly succeeded very well in the case of his literary
associate.

As we have seen, the hatred of the Spaniards by the buccaneers began
very early in the settlement of the West Indies, and in fact, it is very
likely that if there had been no Spaniards there would never have been
any buccaneers; but in all the instances of ferocious enmity toward the
Spaniards there has been nothing to equal the feelings of Roc, the
Brazilian, upon that subject. His dislike to everything Spanish arose,
he declared, from cruelties which had been practised upon his parents by
people of that nation, and his main principle of action throughout all
his piratical career seems to have been that there was nothing too bad
for a Spaniard. The object of his life was to wage bitter war against
Spanish ships and Spanish settlements. He seldom gave any quarter to his
prisoners, and would often subject them to horrible tortures in order to
make them tell where he could find the things he wanted. There is
nothing horrible that has ever been written or told about the buccaneer
life, which could not have been told about Roc, the Brazilian. He was a
typical pirate.

[Illustration: "In a small boat filled with some of his trusty men, he
rowed quietly into the port."--p. 77.]

Roc was very successful, in his enterprises, and took a great deal of
valuable merchandise to Jamaica, but although he and his crew were
always rich men when they went on shore, they did not remain in that
condition very long. The buccaneers of that day were all very
extravagant, and, moreover, they were great gamblers, and it was not
uncommon for them to lose everything they possessed before they had been
on shore a week. Then there was nothing for them to do but to go on
board their vessels and put out to sea in search of some fresh prize. So
far Roc's career had been very much like that of many other Companions
of the Coast, differing from them only in respect to intensity and
force, but he was a clever man with ideas, and was able to adapt himself
to circumstances.

He was cruising about Campeachy without seeing any craft that was worth
capturing, when he thought that it would be very well for him to go out
on a sort of marine scouting expedition and find out whether or not
there were any Spanish vessels in the bay which were well laden and
which were likely soon to come out. So, with a small boat filled with
some of his trusty men, he rowed quietly into the port to see what he
could discover. If he had had Esquemeling with him, and had sent that
mild-mannered observer into the harbor to investigate into the state of
affairs, and come back with a report, it would have been a great deal
better for the pirate captain, but he chose to go himself, and he came
to grief. No sooner did the people on the ships lying in the harbor
behold a boat approaching with a big-browed, broad-jawed mariner sitting
in the stern, and with a good many more broad-backed, hairy mariners
than were necessary, pulling at the oars, than they gave the alarm. The
well-known pirate was recognized, and it was not long before he was
captured. Roc must have had a great deal of confidence in his own
powers, or perhaps he relied somewhat upon the fear which his very
presence evoked. But he made a mistake this time; he had run into the
lion's jaw, and the lion had closed his teeth upon him.

When the pirate captain and his companions were brought before the
Governor, he made no pretence of putting them to trial. Buccaneers were
outlawed by the Spanish, and were considered as wild beasts to be killed
without mercy wherever caught. Consequently Roc and his men were thrown
into a dungeon and condemned to be executed. If, however, the Spanish
Governor had known what was good for himself, he would have had them
killed that night.