CHAPTER XIII

THE BRETHREN OF THE MAIN

Although from the time that handful of refugees took Tortuga from the Spaniards the island was nominally French, yet it was ever, to all intents and purposes, buccaneer. Even the governors, appointed by France, were in hearty sympathy with the freebooters and were no better than their fellows. Moreover, the inhabitants of the isle were not by any means all French. Attracted by the freedom of the place, the opportunities for the semi-wild life of buccanning, in its original sense, and the chances of “emprizing,” as they put it, against the Dons, adventurous souls from far and near flocked to Tortuga.

Principally they were English or French, but there were not a few Dutch, a number of Portuguese, a sprinkling of Spanish, and an endless number of mixed breeds and men without any definite country. But, once in Tortuga, all differences of blood, religion, and profession, as well as of social status, were cast aside and forgotten, and they became once and for all buccaneers, [8] bound together as “Brethren of the Main.” And, curious as it may seem, these men, although absolutely unprincipled and ruthless where others were concerned, were marvelously honest and square among themselves, and with the Indians with whom they came in contact. Of course this was a case of necessity rather than of choice, for they realized that only by faithfulness and integrity with one another could they succeed, and that the Indians were essential to them, as pilots, hunters, fishermen, and guides. It is also a fact, although lurid fiction and stories by those who know little or nothing of buccaneer history would have us believe otherwise, that as a rule these pirates were far more humane in their treatment of prisoners than the regular soldiery and naval forces of their day. But, like their dealings with the Indians, this consideration for their enemies and captives was to the buccaneers’ advantage. They well knew, “by divers experiences,” that unless they gave quarter to their prisoners and released captives upon payment of ransom their own fellows would be put to torture and the sword when captured by the Spaniards. Moreover, through the gratitude of prisoners whom they spared, or even aided, the pirates gained much valuable information,—far more, in fact, than through torture,—and on more than one occasion the buccaneers who fell into the Dons’ hands were treated courteously and were even helped on their way by those who had received similar treatment from the freebooters.

Of course there were exceptions to this. Such men as Montbars, Morgan, Lolonais, and a few others seemed to glory in torture and murder, and proved themselves fiends incarnate; and it was the deeds committed by such men that gave the reputation for bloodthirstiness to all. In addition, after the buccaneers had scattered and were no longer an organized body, but carried on their piratical ventures as individuals and were hunted by all nations, they deteriorated and became mere pirates, who robbed and killed friend and foe with equal impartiality. When the buccaneers first came into being, and for many years thereafter, France and England were at war with Spain, and so raids and attacks upon the Dons were considered legal warfare, and even long after peace was established between the powers the buccaneers preyed only upon their hereditary enemies the Spaniards. But as time passed and the authorities, in order to preserve peace, were compelled to apprehend and hang the most notorious of the buccaneers, the remainder looked upon every peaceful man as their enemy and considered legitimate prey every ship they could overpower. They burned, sacked, and destroyed whenever opportunity offered, regardless of flag or nationality.

At first the buccaneers were compelled to make their raids in small boats,—bateaux and pirogues, or dugout canoes,—for they had no ships of their own. But this handicap did not deter them in the least. The fact that a contemplated prize was a great galleon bristling with guns and swarming with armed men did not discourage them, but rather made them the more keen to take her. Manning their little craft, the buccaneers pulled or paddled or sailed toward their prey, steering in such a way as to avoid the heaviest fire of the enemy’s guns (and it must be remembered that with the clumsy, short-range, far from accurate cannon of those days a moving small boat was a difficult mark to hit), and meantime keeping up a steady fusillade of small arms. Literally walking arsenals, trained marksmen, and accustomed to hunting wild cattle, the pirates usually succeeded in killing the helmsman of the enemy’s ship, as well as many of the gunners. Running under the vessel’s stern, they would make fast, wedge the rudder of their prize, and with knives in teeth swarm up chains and rigging and pour over the rail like a pack of fiends. Nothing could withstand the onslaught of this savage crew, who, yelling and cursing, poured over the bulwarks, cutlass in one hand, pistol in the other, and shooting, slashing, and thrusting like madmen, oblivious of wounds, regardless of death, hacked and slew and seemed to be everywhere at once.

It was thus that Sharp and his men took the Spanish fleet and came into possession of The Most Blessed Trinity in the harbor of Panama, and the annals of the buccaneers are filled with similar deeds. The ship in their hands, as a rule they either put the ordinary survivors of the battle ashore or set them adrift in a boat, retained the captain and his officers as prisoners for ransom, and took possession of any women who might be aboard.

Having by such means secured seaworthy sailing-vessels, the buccaneers were able to extend operations, and after eliminating the fancy gilt-work and lofty stern castles, the luxuriant fittings, and all unnecessary gear of their prizes, they would man them with crews of several hundred each and set forth on their forays.

They seldom built ships of their own, but by selecting the handiest and swiftest of their prizes and rerigging and refitting them to suit their own special needs, they gradually accumulated a fleet of ships which were noted for speed and stanchness. Moreover, the larger vessels were seldom used. The pirates required craft which could dodge among reefs and slip through shoal waters where the big men-of-war could not follow, and it was only now and then that a buccaneer ship carried more than eight guns, the usual number being four or six. The pirates depended more upon seamanship and marksmanship than mere weight of metal or thundering broadsides, although on some of their later and larger enterprises they used ships carrying forty guns or more.

When we consider the heterogeneous character of their crews, and the varied antecedents and training of those who made up their number, it is not surprising that the corsairs succeeded against tremendous odds. In addition to the true Tortugan hunters and buccaneers there were logwood-cutters from the Central American coast and the bay islands, ex-soldiers and sailors, Indians, criminals from prisons and gaols, outlaws and bandits—all men who were trained in the use of arms, of immense physical strength and endurance, with an extraordinary power to undergo hunger, thirst, and other hardships, and with an utter disregard for death or bodily suffering.

The strangest part of it was that this riffraff of adventurers was amenable to discipline. When afloat or on one of their forays they obeyed their leaders implicitly and were true to them even in the face of torture or death. They never betrayed their comrades, would risk their lives to help another buccaneer, and would share their last centavo or their rags with a Brother of the Main at any time.

Another interesting fact is that these buccaneers were the inventors of life and accident insurance, or we might better say employees’ compensation laws. Before starting on a cruise they made their preparations in a most efficient way and provided for all contingencies.

When a pirate leader decided that it was time to go a-pirating he would give out word of his intention and call for volunteers, each man who presented himself for the venture being supposed to bring his own arms, ammunition, and supplies. The next step was to provide food for the voyage, and the buccaneers, seeing no reason to use their own resources for the purchase of supplies which could be had for the taking, thereupon made a sortie against the nearest Spanish possession, held up and robbed a few corrals, and, buccanning the cattle and swine thus economically acquired, stocked the commissary department. The next step was to arrange shares of the prospective loot, and to draw up articles in writing very particularly setting forth the sum each man was to receive for his services, said sum to be taken from the “common stock” as it was called, or, in other words, the total value of prizes and loot secured; for their unalterable rule was “No prey, no pay.”

First it was settled by vote what the captain was to receive for his services or the use of his ship (for very often the skipper was merely the owner of the vessel and was no navigator), then what the salaries of the other men, such as the carpenter, the steward, the gunners, the surgeon, were to be. Then it was agreed that the provisions and liquors should be paid for, recompense being given the individuals who had secured them. Finally came the matter of insurance, and a very complete schedule was drawn up, with exact provisions for payment for nearly every form of injury or wound. This varied somewhat according to the danger of the undertaking, but as a rule it was about six hundred pieces of eight for the loss of a right arm; five hundred pieces of eight for a left arm; the same for a right leg; four hundred for a left leg; one hundred pieces of eight for an eye, the same for a finger, and one thousand for total disability or death. In every case slaves might be taken in lieu of cash, the value of slaves, either white or black, male or female, being fixed at one hundred pieces of eight each. It was also provided that after the payment of all the aforesaid “salaries,” refunds, and compensations the remainder of the loot should be equally divided among the survivors of the expedition, with the exception of the captain and other officers, the former always receiving five or six shares to each share of the men, and the others in proportion.

In addition to all this, each member of the company was compelled to take a solemn oath (not infrequently signed in blood) not to conceal, hide, or keep anything for himself, to turn all loot into the common fund, and to abide by the articles of agreement, obey his leaders, and not desert. The penalty for violation of this oath varied all the way from death to being marooned, forfeiting a share in the plunder, or being drummed out of the Brethren, according to the extent of the delinquent’s offense.

Seldom, however, was it necessary to inflict any of these punishments, for it was extremely rare for a buccaneer to violate his oath or break his promises. It was largely this remarkable loyalty, this honor among themselves, their wonderful organization, their supreme confidence in their leaders, that enabled the buccaneers successfully to engage trained troops outnumbering them ten to one, to storm and take supposedly impregnable fortresses, and to sack towns in the heart of the enemy’s country. To be sure, the prominent members of the brotherhood were born leaders, able executives, men of almost superhuman bravery and physical strength; in almost any legitimate undertaking they would have succeeded as well as in their chosen profession of piracy, and their personal courage and magnetism caused their followers to look upon them almost as demigods. The buccaneers would flock by thousands to the call of Mansvelt, Pierre le Grand, Michael le Basque, Alexandre, John Davis, Lolonais, De Graaf, or Morgan, and, regardless of how perilous the undertaking in hand, would follow them through untold horrors and sufferings, through hunger and thirst, through blood and fire; laughing at death, jeering at privations, and faithful to the last. To be sure, they were men to whom fighting and pillage were as the very breath of life, and in those days, when a man’s life was valued at only one thousand pieces of eight (approximately one thousand dollars), the bait was large enough to warrant any one taking long chances. Not infrequently a successful foray would result in so vast an amount of loot that when the prizes were divided even the common sailors would receive as much as five thousand pieces of eight as their share for a few weeks’ work. The purchasing power of such a sum was then equivalent to about a quarter of a million at the present time. We can readily imagine what risks men of the rough, buccaneer type would take to-day, what hardships they would undergo, and what atrocities they would be willing to commit with a reward of quarter of a million dollars dangling before their eyes, and with virtually no risk of punishment for their actions.

Moreover, the great buccaneer leaders rose almost without exception from the rank and file, by sheer force of character as well as through savagery and cruelty, and very often they were chosen by popular vote of the men. Roche or Rock Brasiliano, a German by birth, who was given his nickname because he had lived long in Brazil, was thus elected captain by men who with him deserted their ship after a disagreement with their commander. Within a few days, this fellow who hitherto had been an inconspicuous sailor succeeded in taking a great Spanish galleon and a vast amount of loot. This at once gave him prestige as a leader, and followers flocked to his standard. But Brasiliano was a degenerate and brutal rascal, who, in the words of Esquemelling (who served under him) “had no good behavior or government over himself in his domestic or private affairs and would oftentimes show himself brutal or foolish, running up and down the streets in drink, beating and wounding whom he met.” A most unpleasant personage to have about, even in a buccaneer town! His cruelty was such as even to bring protests from his fellow pirates, his favorite pastime being to roast prisoners alive on revolving spits over slow fires. But he was undeniably brave, and on one occasion, when shipwrecked on the coast of Yucatan and marching overland with less than thirty survivors from his ill-fated ship, Brasiliano and his men attacked and routed over one hundred Spanish cavalrymen. Taking possession of the Dons’ horses, they continued on their way, and made themselves masters of the Spanish fleet riding to anchor off the coast of Campeche. Brasiliano was a resourceful scoundrel, and when later he was cast into a dungeon after being captured during an espionage tour of the city of Campeche, which he planned to take, he won his freedom by sending the Spanish governor a letter purporting to come from the commandant of a buccaneer flotilla and threatening dire vengeance if the prisoner were not instantly released.

John Davis, a native Jamaican, also was elected captain and later admiral of the buccaneers because of his signal bravery as a common mariner. His most noteworthy venture was the sacking of San Juan, Nicaragua, and the taking of over fifty thousand dollars’ worth of loot. Later he attacked and sacked St. Augustine, Florida, without the loss of a man. Moreover, Davis, according to his historians, was a gentlemanly rascal and very “kind and considerate even when in his cups,” a decided contrast to Brasiliano in this respect.

Probably the most atrociously cruel of the buccaneers who made Tortuga their home was Francis L’Ollonais (usually spelled Lolonais), who, born in France, was sold as a slave in the West Indies, and, escaping, reached the French settlement at Tortuga. Like Brasiliano and others, Lolonais was for some time an ordinary seaman, but his daring and ability attracted the attention of Governor de la Place, who provided the promising young pirate with a ship and grub-staked him in the gay game of buccaneering. For a time Lolonais was extremely lucky and took ship after ship and sacked town after town successfully, meanwhile piling up a comfortable fortune for himself and his sponsor, Monsieur de la Place. But the inhumanities he practised were so unspeakable that even his own men became disgusted with him. Moreover, his fortunes turned, and after he had lost his ship on the coast of Yucatan his men were routed and he himself was seriously wounded. Eventually, however, by marching overland, he reached Campeche, entered the city in disguise, secured the services of a few slaves, and in a small boat returned to Tortuga. Here he equipped an expedition and sailed for Maracaibo, which he took and held for over two months, finally departing, after having committed every form of atrocity and abomination, with booty valued at more than half a million dollars.

Thus having recouped his fortunes and again established himself in the favor of his fellows and the governor, this “most execrable scoundrel,” as Esquemelling calls him, set sail to ravish the coasts of Cuba and Central America. For a time he succeeded beyond all expectations, taking countless ships and towns, his blood-lust and cruelty ever increasing with his victories. He had, in fact, become a veritable monster in human form, no doubt actually insane, until his men openly expostulated. The culmination came when, in Honduras, marching on Puerto Caballos, Lolonais took a number of Spanish prisoners, whom he questioned regarding the routes to the city. Being dissatisfied with the replies, he flew into a passion and, seizing one of the prisoners, he slashed open the fellow’s breast with his cutlass, tore out his still living heart, and began to bite and gnaw at it with his teeth, like a ravenous beast. Shortly after this cannibalistic exhibition of his fury he was again shipwrecked, losing all the booty he had won and many of his men. Nothing daunted, Lolonais prepared to build a long-boat in which to continue his depredations. At the mouth of the San Juan River in Nicaragua he was attacked by Spaniards and Indians, and most of his surviving men were killed. Defeated for the first time, he decided to go southward and attack Cartagena, depending, as was the custom of the buccaneers, upon securing canoes and provisions from the Kuna Indians of Darien. But so utterly despicable had he been that even the savage Kunas had turned against him. To quote Esquemelling once more:

Hither L’Ollonais came (being rather brought by his evil conscience that cried for punishment of his crimes) thinking to act in this country his former cruelties. But the Indians within a few days after his arrival took him prisoner and tore him to pieces alive, throwing his body limb by limb into the fire and his ashes into the air, to the intent no trace or memory might remain of such an infamous inhuman creature. Thus ended the life and history and miserable death of that infernal wretch L’Ollonais who, full of horrid, execrable and enormous deeds, and also debtor to so much innocent blood, died by cruel and butcherly hands, such as his own were in the course of his life.

Surely, when a fellow pirate and one of his own companions penned such an indictment, we may safely consider Lolonais the most outrageous rascal who ever scourged the Spanish Main.

It was owing partly to the inhuman methods of the French buccaneers, such as Lolonais, partly to jealousies and the fact that the French were favored, partly to natural distrust and dislike for one another, and partly to more or less loyalty to their own governments, that the British pirates and the French freebooters of Tortuga began to quarrel. At first it was merely a matter of brawls among the men, but gradually the breach widened; armed parties of French and British clashed, riots took place, and at last open antagonism broke out and the French, outnumbering the English, in 1641 drove their erstwhile allies from the island. Scattering about the Caribbean, the English freebooters established themselves here and there among the Virgin Islands, on the Bay Islands, in Samana Bay, and elsewhere, until in 1654, when Penn and Venables sought to take Jamaica from Spain, they rallied under the British ensign and joined the navy of their king.

It was largely owing to the part the English buccaneers took in this concerted attack on Jamaica, in which they won the admiration of the British admirals and officers for their courage and resourcefulness, that Jamaica became a colony of the English crown. The acquisition of this island by the British provided the English buccaneers with a base for their operations and a safe refuge, and for many years Jamaica—or, rather Port Royal, its chief port—became the most notorious resort of the pirates.