[Contents]CHAPTER VIITHE MISFORTUNES OF MONSIEUR OGERON“Gosh, I’m glad the Spaniards fooled Morgan and got most of their things away!” exclaimed Jack. “What became of the treasure, Dad; did they bring it back after Morgan left?”“No one knows what became of the bulk of it,” replied his father. “One or two of the ships were never heard from. They were probably wrecked or perhaps their crews mutinied and made off with the valuables. One vessel was driven ashore on the coasts of Darien and the treasure went down with it. The priceless cargoes of others were buried in out-of-the-way spots and no one has ever discovered them as far as known, while a few of the ships returned after the buccaneers had gone. Of course the town was in ruins and, realizing that the situation was too exposed, the Dons moved a few miles to the west and built the present city of Panama, using the stones and bricks from the ruins in making the more important[120]buildings. And here let me tell you a little story—a most romantic and fascinating tale that throws some light on the question of what became of the treasures the Spaniards saved from Morgan’s clutches.“In the old city the richest and most famed church was that of San José. Like all the churches, it received its tithe or share of all gold and riches passing through Panama, but the brothers who owned San José saw fit to use their share to fashion a huge altar of beaten gold, a marvelous, glorious structure unequalled in all the world and which became famed far and wide. Indeed it is said that it was mainly the stories of the golden altar of San José and the heavily jeweled vestments and images in the church that led Morgan to sack the town. When word of the taking of San Lorenzo reached Panama, the priests of San José church hurriedly removed the far-famed altar piecemeal and loading it onto a ship sailed away. Months later, when the new city was being built, the priests returned and busied themselves in building a new San José church near the harbor shores in the new city. But they were evidently no longer rich. The church was a tiny, obscure, unattractive affair half hidden among[121]other buildings, as it still stands to-day, at the corner of Avenue A and 8th Street in Panama City. And within the church, in place of the wonderful altar of beaten gold, they erected a plain white altar—the poorest of all among the churches in the city. Time went on. There were slave uprisings, fires, rebellions against Spain and insurrections. The country was turbulent and unsettled, but the brothers of San José church had nothing to tempt robbers, bandits or revolutionists and they and their little stucco church were left in peace. Even the fires that swept the town and destroyed many of the larger churches spared the little affair on Avenue A. Then came the Americans and the Canal; Panama won her independence, Uncle Sam sanitized the city, established law and order, and bloody, unsettled days were a thing of the past.“Then for days the priests of San José church busied themselves with mysterious doings behind closed doors and at last, lo and behold, where the white altar had stood, once more gleamed the ancient altar of gold! Through all the years the friars had guarded their secret well. Under its coating of white paint the famed altar had been hidden with never a suspicion of its existence and[122]now that it was safe the white paint had been cleaned off and once more the glorious altar of precious metal glowed and scintillated in the sunlight pouring upon it through the stained glass windows. It is one of the sights of Panama of to-day, but few know of its existence, still fewer know of its history and in the little church on a back street few tourists realize that there stands the most wonderful and the only real treasure salvaged from the ancient city destroyed by the buccaneers.“And now, boys, let us go back to Morgan and follow his career after he returned to Jamaica from the looting of Panama. While he had been away, peace between Spain and England had been declared, and the King of England, hearing that Jamaica’s Governor encouraged the buccaneers and even shared in their raids, appointed a new governor and ordered the old one to appear before the Crown and explain his behavior. Thus, when Morgan arrived at Jamaica, he found himself declared a pirate and placed under arrest along with the ex-governor. And with his discredited official friend the buccaneer chieftain was transported to England to stand trial for piracy.“No one knows exactly what arguments Morgan[123]used or how he managed it; but he was a glib talker, a man of great personal magnetism and, moreover, had vast riches at his disposal, and doubtless he employed all these resources to the best of his ability. At any rate, instead of being hung as he richly deserved, he was knighted by the king, was appointed Lieutenant Governor of Jamaica and sent back to the island with instructions to suppress piracy. Maybe the King had method in his madness and thought that if it took a thief to catch a thief it would be well to have a pirate to catch pirates. And in this he was not mistaken. Morgan, having already won the enmity of his former comrades and being discredited as a buccaneer, turned upon the corsairs, and with all the cruelty and unscrupulousness he had exhibited when attacking the Dons, he hunted down the buccaneers, hanged them without trial and sent expeditions out to destroy them. But he was such an utterly unprincipled and dastardly wretch that he could not play fair even as a reformed buccaneer. While destroying buccaneers with one hand he was aiding them with the other and secretly was providing funds and help for his brother and a few chosen friends in their piratical ventures. Owing to rumors of this and complaints[124]of his tyrannical rule, the King at last recalled him and Morgan, sailing from Jamaica, passed into oblivion. Very little is known of what became of him. Some claim he settled down in England and lived quietly upon the proceeds of his robberies; others say he settled in the West Indies, and there is even a rumor that he was assassinated by one of his old shipmates. Whatever his end, he died unknown, unhonored, hated for a traitor, a most atrocious scallawag; after a meteoric career of but five years and the only buccaneer who was ever made a ‘Sir.’“Now for a change, let me tell you of a buccaneer who found the Spaniards more than a match for him and met his Waterloo at the hands of the Dons. This was no less a personage than the Governor of Tortuga, Monsieur Bertram Ogeron. After Morgan’s raid on Panama, in 1673 to be exact, war broke out between the French and Dutch, and this gave an excuse to the French buccaneers of Tortuga to attack their former friends of the Dutch West Indies. Governor Ogeron, who was quite a famed buccaneer, built and fitted out a large armed vessel which he named the Ogeron in honor of himself and, manning it with five hundred buccaneers, prepared to swoop[125]down on the island of Curaçao. But when nearing Porto Rico and sailing through the Mona Passage between that island and Santo Domingo, a violent storm drove his ship upon the Guadanillas rocks, completely destroying it. Fortunately, or perhaps unfortunately as it turned out, all the men escaped in boats to the main island of Porto Rico. Almost at once they were discovered by the Spaniards who recognized them as French buccaneers, and the castaways being unarmed and helpless they were immediately made prisoners. Although the French begged for mercy and quarter, the atrocities they had committed in the past were still fresh in their captors’ minds and, finding buccaneers at their mercy, they proceeded to wreak vengeance. In a short time they had tortured and killed the majority of the captives and then, securely binding those left alive, they started to drive them across the island to San Juan as slaves. Throughout all this, Ogeron had remained unknown to the Dons, pretending to be a half-witted fool, and his men, to all the Dons’ queries, insisted that their commander had been drowned. Thinking him a poor demented fellow the Spaniards left him free and obtained no little amusement from his crazy capers and insane behavior.[126]Indeed, they found him so diverting that they treated him with kindness, fed him from their own meals, while the other buccaneers were given barely enough to sustain life, and allowed him full liberty. Also among the buccaneers was another favored man, a surgeon, who was also left free in order that he might use his services for the Dons’ benefit, and the two at once plotted to escape and, returning to Tortuga, bring an expedition to Porto Rico to rescue their fellows. Watching their chance, they took to the woods and made towards the coast. This they reached safely, but found themselves almost as badly off as before, for there was not a scrap of food to eat and no chance of getting shelter or making their way to Tortuga. But they were resourceful men and, wandering along the shore, they succeeded in capturing a number of fish in the shoal water. Then, by rubbing sticks together, they obtained fire, roasted the fish and the next day proceeded to cut down trees with the intention of making a raft. Fortunately they had brought along a small hatchet, their only tool and weapon, and with this they undertook their herculean job. They were thus busily at work when, to their delight, they saw a canoe approaching and, hiding in the bushes,[127]they watched it as it drew towards the beach and discovered that it contained two men,—poor fishermen,—a Spaniard and a mulatto. Picking up several calabashes, the mulatto stepped from the little craft and started up the beach, evidently intent on securing water. Stealing stealthily after him the buccaneers, to quote Esquemeling’s words, ‘assaulted him and, discharging a great blow on his head with the hatchet, they soon deprived him of life.’ Hearing his cries, the Spaniard started to escape, but was quickly overtaken and butchered. Then, securing a plentiful supply of water in the dead man’s calabashes, they set sail and a few days later arrived safely at a buccaneers’ lair in Samaná Bay, Santo Domingo.“Here Ogeron told his story, gathered together all the buccaneers he could find and with a number of ships and several hundred men started on his voyage of rescue and vengeance. The Dons, however, saw his fleet approaching and prepared to give the buccaneers a warm welcome. Unsuspecting, the buccaneers fell into an ambuscade, great numbers were killed and the survivors who did not manage to escape to their ships, were made prisoners. Ogeron himself escaped and shamed and beaten returned to Tortuga, abandoning all[128]hopes of rescuing his unfortunate comrades. In the meantime, the Dons slaughtered the wounded Frenchmen, cut off a few heads and limbs of the corpses to prove to their first prisoners the fate of their friends who had attempted their rescue, and drove the poor fellows on towards the capital. Here in San Juan they were put to work at building the massive fortress of San Cristóbal while a few were transported to Havana as laborers on the fortifications there. But the Dons took no chances with them. Although but a handful of half-starved, shackled slaves yet the buccaneers’ reputation was such that the Spaniards kept them constantly under guard, confining them in separate cells at night, for, to once more quote Esquemeling’s quaint phraseology, ‘the Spaniards had had divers proofs of their enterprises on other occasions which afforded them sufficient cause to use them after this manner.’“And to make assurance doubly sure, each time a ship sailed for Spain parties of the prisoners were placed on board, transported to Europe and set at liberty. The buccaneers, however, had an almost uncanny faculty of getting together, even when widely separated, and ere long all the prisoners had met in France and were soon back in[129]their old haunt at Tortuga ready for another foray. But they had had enough of Ogeron as a leader and joining Le Sieur Maintenon sailed for Trinidad which they sacked and ransomed for ten thousand pieces of eight and then set forth for the conquest of Caracas. Here, once more, they met defeat, for while they took the port of La Guaira they were ignominiously beaten back on the awful trail over the mountains to Caracas. Many were killed, more were made prisoners and only a handful of survivors escaped and returned, broken and penniless, to Tortuga.”“Well, I’m glad the Dons did beat them,” declared Fred. “Seems to me the buccaneers had it their own way too often.”“Yes, that is true,” assented Mr. Bickford, “but you must bear in mind that only the successes of the buccaneers were recorded as a general thing. No doubt they were defeated repeatedly and nothing said of the matter, and if the Spaniards’ story were told it might read very differently. Now that I have told you of Morgan, of the ruthless buccaneers, such as Portugues, L’Ollonois and their kind, let me tell you of the most remarkable expedition ever undertaken by the buccaneers; a trip without a parallel in history[130]and which, for sheer daredevil bravery, indomitable courage, splendid seamanship and wonderful adventures is worthy of a place in the history of the greatest navigators and discoverers of the world. Moreover, this ‘most dangerous voyage,’ as the buccaneer historian calls it, was of real value to the world, as it resulted in scientific discoveries and data, in geographical knowledge and facts about the Indians which otherwise might never have been recorded.”“It seems funny to think of buccaneers being interested in science or geography or such things,” said Jack, as his father searched through a volume for the chapter he desired. “How did it happen, Dad?”“One of the members of the expedition was a man named Dampier,” replied his father. “He was the son of an English farmer and at seventeen was apprenticed as a boy aboard a merchant ship sailing to the West Indies. Deserting the ship, he tried his fortunes as a logwood cutter, but finding this held little chance for either riches or excitement, he joined the buccaneers. But Dampier was at heart a naturalist and an author. He was fond of study, was a keen observer and wherever he went he invariably wrote notes[131]recording all he had seen and made excellent maps and sketches. One would hardly expect the career of a buccaneer to favor literary work and yet Dampier managed to write an excellent book while on a buccaneer ship. Often he would be obliged to drop pen and paper in the middle of a chapter in order to help his comrades battle with a Spanish ship or take a town, but he kept it up with fanatical persistence, carried his manuscript and his writing materials with him wherever he went and left most valuable records. What a queer picture he must have presented as he sat on a gun carriage busily jotting down notes on natural history or making sketches of the rugged wooded shores of some buccaneers’ lair, which he always speaks of as ‘a particular draught of my own composure,’ while, beside his ink horn, was his loaded pistol and his trusty cutlass ready for any emergency. His copy he kept in a joint of bamboo, which, he says, ‘I stopt at both ends, closing it with Wax so as to keep out any water. In this way I preserved my Journal and other writings from being wet, tho’ I was often forced to swim.’“And along with the author-naturalist, Dampier, was many another odd character. There was Foster, who spent his hours between battles[132]composing sentimental poetry and who wrote ‘Soneyettes of Love’ aboard a buccaneer ship; Richard Jobson, a divinity student and chemist, who carried along with his sword and pistols a well-thumbed Greek Testament which he translated aloud for the edification of his piratical mates, and, lastly, Ringrose, the pilot and navigator, whose carefully kept log has given us the true history of this ‘most dangerous voyage and bold assaults of Captain Bartholomew Sharp.’ ”[133]
[Contents]CHAPTER VIITHE MISFORTUNES OF MONSIEUR OGERON“Gosh, I’m glad the Spaniards fooled Morgan and got most of their things away!” exclaimed Jack. “What became of the treasure, Dad; did they bring it back after Morgan left?”“No one knows what became of the bulk of it,” replied his father. “One or two of the ships were never heard from. They were probably wrecked or perhaps their crews mutinied and made off with the valuables. One vessel was driven ashore on the coasts of Darien and the treasure went down with it. The priceless cargoes of others were buried in out-of-the-way spots and no one has ever discovered them as far as known, while a few of the ships returned after the buccaneers had gone. Of course the town was in ruins and, realizing that the situation was too exposed, the Dons moved a few miles to the west and built the present city of Panama, using the stones and bricks from the ruins in making the more important[120]buildings. And here let me tell you a little story—a most romantic and fascinating tale that throws some light on the question of what became of the treasures the Spaniards saved from Morgan’s clutches.“In the old city the richest and most famed church was that of San José. Like all the churches, it received its tithe or share of all gold and riches passing through Panama, but the brothers who owned San José saw fit to use their share to fashion a huge altar of beaten gold, a marvelous, glorious structure unequalled in all the world and which became famed far and wide. Indeed it is said that it was mainly the stories of the golden altar of San José and the heavily jeweled vestments and images in the church that led Morgan to sack the town. When word of the taking of San Lorenzo reached Panama, the priests of San José church hurriedly removed the far-famed altar piecemeal and loading it onto a ship sailed away. Months later, when the new city was being built, the priests returned and busied themselves in building a new San José church near the harbor shores in the new city. But they were evidently no longer rich. The church was a tiny, obscure, unattractive affair half hidden among[121]other buildings, as it still stands to-day, at the corner of Avenue A and 8th Street in Panama City. And within the church, in place of the wonderful altar of beaten gold, they erected a plain white altar—the poorest of all among the churches in the city. Time went on. There were slave uprisings, fires, rebellions against Spain and insurrections. The country was turbulent and unsettled, but the brothers of San José church had nothing to tempt robbers, bandits or revolutionists and they and their little stucco church were left in peace. Even the fires that swept the town and destroyed many of the larger churches spared the little affair on Avenue A. Then came the Americans and the Canal; Panama won her independence, Uncle Sam sanitized the city, established law and order, and bloody, unsettled days were a thing of the past.“Then for days the priests of San José church busied themselves with mysterious doings behind closed doors and at last, lo and behold, where the white altar had stood, once more gleamed the ancient altar of gold! Through all the years the friars had guarded their secret well. Under its coating of white paint the famed altar had been hidden with never a suspicion of its existence and[122]now that it was safe the white paint had been cleaned off and once more the glorious altar of precious metal glowed and scintillated in the sunlight pouring upon it through the stained glass windows. It is one of the sights of Panama of to-day, but few know of its existence, still fewer know of its history and in the little church on a back street few tourists realize that there stands the most wonderful and the only real treasure salvaged from the ancient city destroyed by the buccaneers.“And now, boys, let us go back to Morgan and follow his career after he returned to Jamaica from the looting of Panama. While he had been away, peace between Spain and England had been declared, and the King of England, hearing that Jamaica’s Governor encouraged the buccaneers and even shared in their raids, appointed a new governor and ordered the old one to appear before the Crown and explain his behavior. Thus, when Morgan arrived at Jamaica, he found himself declared a pirate and placed under arrest along with the ex-governor. And with his discredited official friend the buccaneer chieftain was transported to England to stand trial for piracy.“No one knows exactly what arguments Morgan[123]used or how he managed it; but he was a glib talker, a man of great personal magnetism and, moreover, had vast riches at his disposal, and doubtless he employed all these resources to the best of his ability. At any rate, instead of being hung as he richly deserved, he was knighted by the king, was appointed Lieutenant Governor of Jamaica and sent back to the island with instructions to suppress piracy. Maybe the King had method in his madness and thought that if it took a thief to catch a thief it would be well to have a pirate to catch pirates. And in this he was not mistaken. Morgan, having already won the enmity of his former comrades and being discredited as a buccaneer, turned upon the corsairs, and with all the cruelty and unscrupulousness he had exhibited when attacking the Dons, he hunted down the buccaneers, hanged them without trial and sent expeditions out to destroy them. But he was such an utterly unprincipled and dastardly wretch that he could not play fair even as a reformed buccaneer. While destroying buccaneers with one hand he was aiding them with the other and secretly was providing funds and help for his brother and a few chosen friends in their piratical ventures. Owing to rumors of this and complaints[124]of his tyrannical rule, the King at last recalled him and Morgan, sailing from Jamaica, passed into oblivion. Very little is known of what became of him. Some claim he settled down in England and lived quietly upon the proceeds of his robberies; others say he settled in the West Indies, and there is even a rumor that he was assassinated by one of his old shipmates. Whatever his end, he died unknown, unhonored, hated for a traitor, a most atrocious scallawag; after a meteoric career of but five years and the only buccaneer who was ever made a ‘Sir.’“Now for a change, let me tell you of a buccaneer who found the Spaniards more than a match for him and met his Waterloo at the hands of the Dons. This was no less a personage than the Governor of Tortuga, Monsieur Bertram Ogeron. After Morgan’s raid on Panama, in 1673 to be exact, war broke out between the French and Dutch, and this gave an excuse to the French buccaneers of Tortuga to attack their former friends of the Dutch West Indies. Governor Ogeron, who was quite a famed buccaneer, built and fitted out a large armed vessel which he named the Ogeron in honor of himself and, manning it with five hundred buccaneers, prepared to swoop[125]down on the island of Curaçao. But when nearing Porto Rico and sailing through the Mona Passage between that island and Santo Domingo, a violent storm drove his ship upon the Guadanillas rocks, completely destroying it. Fortunately, or perhaps unfortunately as it turned out, all the men escaped in boats to the main island of Porto Rico. Almost at once they were discovered by the Spaniards who recognized them as French buccaneers, and the castaways being unarmed and helpless they were immediately made prisoners. Although the French begged for mercy and quarter, the atrocities they had committed in the past were still fresh in their captors’ minds and, finding buccaneers at their mercy, they proceeded to wreak vengeance. In a short time they had tortured and killed the majority of the captives and then, securely binding those left alive, they started to drive them across the island to San Juan as slaves. Throughout all this, Ogeron had remained unknown to the Dons, pretending to be a half-witted fool, and his men, to all the Dons’ queries, insisted that their commander had been drowned. Thinking him a poor demented fellow the Spaniards left him free and obtained no little amusement from his crazy capers and insane behavior.[126]Indeed, they found him so diverting that they treated him with kindness, fed him from their own meals, while the other buccaneers were given barely enough to sustain life, and allowed him full liberty. Also among the buccaneers was another favored man, a surgeon, who was also left free in order that he might use his services for the Dons’ benefit, and the two at once plotted to escape and, returning to Tortuga, bring an expedition to Porto Rico to rescue their fellows. Watching their chance, they took to the woods and made towards the coast. This they reached safely, but found themselves almost as badly off as before, for there was not a scrap of food to eat and no chance of getting shelter or making their way to Tortuga. But they were resourceful men and, wandering along the shore, they succeeded in capturing a number of fish in the shoal water. Then, by rubbing sticks together, they obtained fire, roasted the fish and the next day proceeded to cut down trees with the intention of making a raft. Fortunately they had brought along a small hatchet, their only tool and weapon, and with this they undertook their herculean job. They were thus busily at work when, to their delight, they saw a canoe approaching and, hiding in the bushes,[127]they watched it as it drew towards the beach and discovered that it contained two men,—poor fishermen,—a Spaniard and a mulatto. Picking up several calabashes, the mulatto stepped from the little craft and started up the beach, evidently intent on securing water. Stealing stealthily after him the buccaneers, to quote Esquemeling’s words, ‘assaulted him and, discharging a great blow on his head with the hatchet, they soon deprived him of life.’ Hearing his cries, the Spaniard started to escape, but was quickly overtaken and butchered. Then, securing a plentiful supply of water in the dead man’s calabashes, they set sail and a few days later arrived safely at a buccaneers’ lair in Samaná Bay, Santo Domingo.“Here Ogeron told his story, gathered together all the buccaneers he could find and with a number of ships and several hundred men started on his voyage of rescue and vengeance. The Dons, however, saw his fleet approaching and prepared to give the buccaneers a warm welcome. Unsuspecting, the buccaneers fell into an ambuscade, great numbers were killed and the survivors who did not manage to escape to their ships, were made prisoners. Ogeron himself escaped and shamed and beaten returned to Tortuga, abandoning all[128]hopes of rescuing his unfortunate comrades. In the meantime, the Dons slaughtered the wounded Frenchmen, cut off a few heads and limbs of the corpses to prove to their first prisoners the fate of their friends who had attempted their rescue, and drove the poor fellows on towards the capital. Here in San Juan they were put to work at building the massive fortress of San Cristóbal while a few were transported to Havana as laborers on the fortifications there. But the Dons took no chances with them. Although but a handful of half-starved, shackled slaves yet the buccaneers’ reputation was such that the Spaniards kept them constantly under guard, confining them in separate cells at night, for, to once more quote Esquemeling’s quaint phraseology, ‘the Spaniards had had divers proofs of their enterprises on other occasions which afforded them sufficient cause to use them after this manner.’“And to make assurance doubly sure, each time a ship sailed for Spain parties of the prisoners were placed on board, transported to Europe and set at liberty. The buccaneers, however, had an almost uncanny faculty of getting together, even when widely separated, and ere long all the prisoners had met in France and were soon back in[129]their old haunt at Tortuga ready for another foray. But they had had enough of Ogeron as a leader and joining Le Sieur Maintenon sailed for Trinidad which they sacked and ransomed for ten thousand pieces of eight and then set forth for the conquest of Caracas. Here, once more, they met defeat, for while they took the port of La Guaira they were ignominiously beaten back on the awful trail over the mountains to Caracas. Many were killed, more were made prisoners and only a handful of survivors escaped and returned, broken and penniless, to Tortuga.”“Well, I’m glad the Dons did beat them,” declared Fred. “Seems to me the buccaneers had it their own way too often.”“Yes, that is true,” assented Mr. Bickford, “but you must bear in mind that only the successes of the buccaneers were recorded as a general thing. No doubt they were defeated repeatedly and nothing said of the matter, and if the Spaniards’ story were told it might read very differently. Now that I have told you of Morgan, of the ruthless buccaneers, such as Portugues, L’Ollonois and their kind, let me tell you of the most remarkable expedition ever undertaken by the buccaneers; a trip without a parallel in history[130]and which, for sheer daredevil bravery, indomitable courage, splendid seamanship and wonderful adventures is worthy of a place in the history of the greatest navigators and discoverers of the world. Moreover, this ‘most dangerous voyage,’ as the buccaneer historian calls it, was of real value to the world, as it resulted in scientific discoveries and data, in geographical knowledge and facts about the Indians which otherwise might never have been recorded.”“It seems funny to think of buccaneers being interested in science or geography or such things,” said Jack, as his father searched through a volume for the chapter he desired. “How did it happen, Dad?”“One of the members of the expedition was a man named Dampier,” replied his father. “He was the son of an English farmer and at seventeen was apprenticed as a boy aboard a merchant ship sailing to the West Indies. Deserting the ship, he tried his fortunes as a logwood cutter, but finding this held little chance for either riches or excitement, he joined the buccaneers. But Dampier was at heart a naturalist and an author. He was fond of study, was a keen observer and wherever he went he invariably wrote notes[131]recording all he had seen and made excellent maps and sketches. One would hardly expect the career of a buccaneer to favor literary work and yet Dampier managed to write an excellent book while on a buccaneer ship. Often he would be obliged to drop pen and paper in the middle of a chapter in order to help his comrades battle with a Spanish ship or take a town, but he kept it up with fanatical persistence, carried his manuscript and his writing materials with him wherever he went and left most valuable records. What a queer picture he must have presented as he sat on a gun carriage busily jotting down notes on natural history or making sketches of the rugged wooded shores of some buccaneers’ lair, which he always speaks of as ‘a particular draught of my own composure,’ while, beside his ink horn, was his loaded pistol and his trusty cutlass ready for any emergency. His copy he kept in a joint of bamboo, which, he says, ‘I stopt at both ends, closing it with Wax so as to keep out any water. In this way I preserved my Journal and other writings from being wet, tho’ I was often forced to swim.’“And along with the author-naturalist, Dampier, was many another odd character. There was Foster, who spent his hours between battles[132]composing sentimental poetry and who wrote ‘Soneyettes of Love’ aboard a buccaneer ship; Richard Jobson, a divinity student and chemist, who carried along with his sword and pistols a well-thumbed Greek Testament which he translated aloud for the edification of his piratical mates, and, lastly, Ringrose, the pilot and navigator, whose carefully kept log has given us the true history of this ‘most dangerous voyage and bold assaults of Captain Bartholomew Sharp.’ ”[133]
CHAPTER VIITHE MISFORTUNES OF MONSIEUR OGERON
“Gosh, I’m glad the Spaniards fooled Morgan and got most of their things away!” exclaimed Jack. “What became of the treasure, Dad; did they bring it back after Morgan left?”“No one knows what became of the bulk of it,” replied his father. “One or two of the ships were never heard from. They were probably wrecked or perhaps their crews mutinied and made off with the valuables. One vessel was driven ashore on the coasts of Darien and the treasure went down with it. The priceless cargoes of others were buried in out-of-the-way spots and no one has ever discovered them as far as known, while a few of the ships returned after the buccaneers had gone. Of course the town was in ruins and, realizing that the situation was too exposed, the Dons moved a few miles to the west and built the present city of Panama, using the stones and bricks from the ruins in making the more important[120]buildings. And here let me tell you a little story—a most romantic and fascinating tale that throws some light on the question of what became of the treasures the Spaniards saved from Morgan’s clutches.“In the old city the richest and most famed church was that of San José. Like all the churches, it received its tithe or share of all gold and riches passing through Panama, but the brothers who owned San José saw fit to use their share to fashion a huge altar of beaten gold, a marvelous, glorious structure unequalled in all the world and which became famed far and wide. Indeed it is said that it was mainly the stories of the golden altar of San José and the heavily jeweled vestments and images in the church that led Morgan to sack the town. When word of the taking of San Lorenzo reached Panama, the priests of San José church hurriedly removed the far-famed altar piecemeal and loading it onto a ship sailed away. Months later, when the new city was being built, the priests returned and busied themselves in building a new San José church near the harbor shores in the new city. But they were evidently no longer rich. The church was a tiny, obscure, unattractive affair half hidden among[121]other buildings, as it still stands to-day, at the corner of Avenue A and 8th Street in Panama City. And within the church, in place of the wonderful altar of beaten gold, they erected a plain white altar—the poorest of all among the churches in the city. Time went on. There were slave uprisings, fires, rebellions against Spain and insurrections. The country was turbulent and unsettled, but the brothers of San José church had nothing to tempt robbers, bandits or revolutionists and they and their little stucco church were left in peace. Even the fires that swept the town and destroyed many of the larger churches spared the little affair on Avenue A. Then came the Americans and the Canal; Panama won her independence, Uncle Sam sanitized the city, established law and order, and bloody, unsettled days were a thing of the past.“Then for days the priests of San José church busied themselves with mysterious doings behind closed doors and at last, lo and behold, where the white altar had stood, once more gleamed the ancient altar of gold! Through all the years the friars had guarded their secret well. Under its coating of white paint the famed altar had been hidden with never a suspicion of its existence and[122]now that it was safe the white paint had been cleaned off and once more the glorious altar of precious metal glowed and scintillated in the sunlight pouring upon it through the stained glass windows. It is one of the sights of Panama of to-day, but few know of its existence, still fewer know of its history and in the little church on a back street few tourists realize that there stands the most wonderful and the only real treasure salvaged from the ancient city destroyed by the buccaneers.“And now, boys, let us go back to Morgan and follow his career after he returned to Jamaica from the looting of Panama. While he had been away, peace between Spain and England had been declared, and the King of England, hearing that Jamaica’s Governor encouraged the buccaneers and even shared in their raids, appointed a new governor and ordered the old one to appear before the Crown and explain his behavior. Thus, when Morgan arrived at Jamaica, he found himself declared a pirate and placed under arrest along with the ex-governor. And with his discredited official friend the buccaneer chieftain was transported to England to stand trial for piracy.“No one knows exactly what arguments Morgan[123]used or how he managed it; but he was a glib talker, a man of great personal magnetism and, moreover, had vast riches at his disposal, and doubtless he employed all these resources to the best of his ability. At any rate, instead of being hung as he richly deserved, he was knighted by the king, was appointed Lieutenant Governor of Jamaica and sent back to the island with instructions to suppress piracy. Maybe the King had method in his madness and thought that if it took a thief to catch a thief it would be well to have a pirate to catch pirates. And in this he was not mistaken. Morgan, having already won the enmity of his former comrades and being discredited as a buccaneer, turned upon the corsairs, and with all the cruelty and unscrupulousness he had exhibited when attacking the Dons, he hunted down the buccaneers, hanged them without trial and sent expeditions out to destroy them. But he was such an utterly unprincipled and dastardly wretch that he could not play fair even as a reformed buccaneer. While destroying buccaneers with one hand he was aiding them with the other and secretly was providing funds and help for his brother and a few chosen friends in their piratical ventures. Owing to rumors of this and complaints[124]of his tyrannical rule, the King at last recalled him and Morgan, sailing from Jamaica, passed into oblivion. Very little is known of what became of him. Some claim he settled down in England and lived quietly upon the proceeds of his robberies; others say he settled in the West Indies, and there is even a rumor that he was assassinated by one of his old shipmates. Whatever his end, he died unknown, unhonored, hated for a traitor, a most atrocious scallawag; after a meteoric career of but five years and the only buccaneer who was ever made a ‘Sir.’“Now for a change, let me tell you of a buccaneer who found the Spaniards more than a match for him and met his Waterloo at the hands of the Dons. This was no less a personage than the Governor of Tortuga, Monsieur Bertram Ogeron. After Morgan’s raid on Panama, in 1673 to be exact, war broke out between the French and Dutch, and this gave an excuse to the French buccaneers of Tortuga to attack their former friends of the Dutch West Indies. Governor Ogeron, who was quite a famed buccaneer, built and fitted out a large armed vessel which he named the Ogeron in honor of himself and, manning it with five hundred buccaneers, prepared to swoop[125]down on the island of Curaçao. But when nearing Porto Rico and sailing through the Mona Passage between that island and Santo Domingo, a violent storm drove his ship upon the Guadanillas rocks, completely destroying it. Fortunately, or perhaps unfortunately as it turned out, all the men escaped in boats to the main island of Porto Rico. Almost at once they were discovered by the Spaniards who recognized them as French buccaneers, and the castaways being unarmed and helpless they were immediately made prisoners. Although the French begged for mercy and quarter, the atrocities they had committed in the past were still fresh in their captors’ minds and, finding buccaneers at their mercy, they proceeded to wreak vengeance. In a short time they had tortured and killed the majority of the captives and then, securely binding those left alive, they started to drive them across the island to San Juan as slaves. Throughout all this, Ogeron had remained unknown to the Dons, pretending to be a half-witted fool, and his men, to all the Dons’ queries, insisted that their commander had been drowned. Thinking him a poor demented fellow the Spaniards left him free and obtained no little amusement from his crazy capers and insane behavior.[126]Indeed, they found him so diverting that they treated him with kindness, fed him from their own meals, while the other buccaneers were given barely enough to sustain life, and allowed him full liberty. Also among the buccaneers was another favored man, a surgeon, who was also left free in order that he might use his services for the Dons’ benefit, and the two at once plotted to escape and, returning to Tortuga, bring an expedition to Porto Rico to rescue their fellows. Watching their chance, they took to the woods and made towards the coast. This they reached safely, but found themselves almost as badly off as before, for there was not a scrap of food to eat and no chance of getting shelter or making their way to Tortuga. But they were resourceful men and, wandering along the shore, they succeeded in capturing a number of fish in the shoal water. Then, by rubbing sticks together, they obtained fire, roasted the fish and the next day proceeded to cut down trees with the intention of making a raft. Fortunately they had brought along a small hatchet, their only tool and weapon, and with this they undertook their herculean job. They were thus busily at work when, to their delight, they saw a canoe approaching and, hiding in the bushes,[127]they watched it as it drew towards the beach and discovered that it contained two men,—poor fishermen,—a Spaniard and a mulatto. Picking up several calabashes, the mulatto stepped from the little craft and started up the beach, evidently intent on securing water. Stealing stealthily after him the buccaneers, to quote Esquemeling’s words, ‘assaulted him and, discharging a great blow on his head with the hatchet, they soon deprived him of life.’ Hearing his cries, the Spaniard started to escape, but was quickly overtaken and butchered. Then, securing a plentiful supply of water in the dead man’s calabashes, they set sail and a few days later arrived safely at a buccaneers’ lair in Samaná Bay, Santo Domingo.“Here Ogeron told his story, gathered together all the buccaneers he could find and with a number of ships and several hundred men started on his voyage of rescue and vengeance. The Dons, however, saw his fleet approaching and prepared to give the buccaneers a warm welcome. Unsuspecting, the buccaneers fell into an ambuscade, great numbers were killed and the survivors who did not manage to escape to their ships, were made prisoners. Ogeron himself escaped and shamed and beaten returned to Tortuga, abandoning all[128]hopes of rescuing his unfortunate comrades. In the meantime, the Dons slaughtered the wounded Frenchmen, cut off a few heads and limbs of the corpses to prove to their first prisoners the fate of their friends who had attempted their rescue, and drove the poor fellows on towards the capital. Here in San Juan they were put to work at building the massive fortress of San Cristóbal while a few were transported to Havana as laborers on the fortifications there. But the Dons took no chances with them. Although but a handful of half-starved, shackled slaves yet the buccaneers’ reputation was such that the Spaniards kept them constantly under guard, confining them in separate cells at night, for, to once more quote Esquemeling’s quaint phraseology, ‘the Spaniards had had divers proofs of their enterprises on other occasions which afforded them sufficient cause to use them after this manner.’“And to make assurance doubly sure, each time a ship sailed for Spain parties of the prisoners were placed on board, transported to Europe and set at liberty. The buccaneers, however, had an almost uncanny faculty of getting together, even when widely separated, and ere long all the prisoners had met in France and were soon back in[129]their old haunt at Tortuga ready for another foray. But they had had enough of Ogeron as a leader and joining Le Sieur Maintenon sailed for Trinidad which they sacked and ransomed for ten thousand pieces of eight and then set forth for the conquest of Caracas. Here, once more, they met defeat, for while they took the port of La Guaira they were ignominiously beaten back on the awful trail over the mountains to Caracas. Many were killed, more were made prisoners and only a handful of survivors escaped and returned, broken and penniless, to Tortuga.”“Well, I’m glad the Dons did beat them,” declared Fred. “Seems to me the buccaneers had it their own way too often.”“Yes, that is true,” assented Mr. Bickford, “but you must bear in mind that only the successes of the buccaneers were recorded as a general thing. No doubt they were defeated repeatedly and nothing said of the matter, and if the Spaniards’ story were told it might read very differently. Now that I have told you of Morgan, of the ruthless buccaneers, such as Portugues, L’Ollonois and their kind, let me tell you of the most remarkable expedition ever undertaken by the buccaneers; a trip without a parallel in history[130]and which, for sheer daredevil bravery, indomitable courage, splendid seamanship and wonderful adventures is worthy of a place in the history of the greatest navigators and discoverers of the world. Moreover, this ‘most dangerous voyage,’ as the buccaneer historian calls it, was of real value to the world, as it resulted in scientific discoveries and data, in geographical knowledge and facts about the Indians which otherwise might never have been recorded.”“It seems funny to think of buccaneers being interested in science or geography or such things,” said Jack, as his father searched through a volume for the chapter he desired. “How did it happen, Dad?”“One of the members of the expedition was a man named Dampier,” replied his father. “He was the son of an English farmer and at seventeen was apprenticed as a boy aboard a merchant ship sailing to the West Indies. Deserting the ship, he tried his fortunes as a logwood cutter, but finding this held little chance for either riches or excitement, he joined the buccaneers. But Dampier was at heart a naturalist and an author. He was fond of study, was a keen observer and wherever he went he invariably wrote notes[131]recording all he had seen and made excellent maps and sketches. One would hardly expect the career of a buccaneer to favor literary work and yet Dampier managed to write an excellent book while on a buccaneer ship. Often he would be obliged to drop pen and paper in the middle of a chapter in order to help his comrades battle with a Spanish ship or take a town, but he kept it up with fanatical persistence, carried his manuscript and his writing materials with him wherever he went and left most valuable records. What a queer picture he must have presented as he sat on a gun carriage busily jotting down notes on natural history or making sketches of the rugged wooded shores of some buccaneers’ lair, which he always speaks of as ‘a particular draught of my own composure,’ while, beside his ink horn, was his loaded pistol and his trusty cutlass ready for any emergency. His copy he kept in a joint of bamboo, which, he says, ‘I stopt at both ends, closing it with Wax so as to keep out any water. In this way I preserved my Journal and other writings from being wet, tho’ I was often forced to swim.’“And along with the author-naturalist, Dampier, was many another odd character. There was Foster, who spent his hours between battles[132]composing sentimental poetry and who wrote ‘Soneyettes of Love’ aboard a buccaneer ship; Richard Jobson, a divinity student and chemist, who carried along with his sword and pistols a well-thumbed Greek Testament which he translated aloud for the edification of his piratical mates, and, lastly, Ringrose, the pilot and navigator, whose carefully kept log has given us the true history of this ‘most dangerous voyage and bold assaults of Captain Bartholomew Sharp.’ ”[133]
“Gosh, I’m glad the Spaniards fooled Morgan and got most of their things away!” exclaimed Jack. “What became of the treasure, Dad; did they bring it back after Morgan left?”
“No one knows what became of the bulk of it,” replied his father. “One or two of the ships were never heard from. They were probably wrecked or perhaps their crews mutinied and made off with the valuables. One vessel was driven ashore on the coasts of Darien and the treasure went down with it. The priceless cargoes of others were buried in out-of-the-way spots and no one has ever discovered them as far as known, while a few of the ships returned after the buccaneers had gone. Of course the town was in ruins and, realizing that the situation was too exposed, the Dons moved a few miles to the west and built the present city of Panama, using the stones and bricks from the ruins in making the more important[120]buildings. And here let me tell you a little story—a most romantic and fascinating tale that throws some light on the question of what became of the treasures the Spaniards saved from Morgan’s clutches.
“In the old city the richest and most famed church was that of San José. Like all the churches, it received its tithe or share of all gold and riches passing through Panama, but the brothers who owned San José saw fit to use their share to fashion a huge altar of beaten gold, a marvelous, glorious structure unequalled in all the world and which became famed far and wide. Indeed it is said that it was mainly the stories of the golden altar of San José and the heavily jeweled vestments and images in the church that led Morgan to sack the town. When word of the taking of San Lorenzo reached Panama, the priests of San José church hurriedly removed the far-famed altar piecemeal and loading it onto a ship sailed away. Months later, when the new city was being built, the priests returned and busied themselves in building a new San José church near the harbor shores in the new city. But they were evidently no longer rich. The church was a tiny, obscure, unattractive affair half hidden among[121]other buildings, as it still stands to-day, at the corner of Avenue A and 8th Street in Panama City. And within the church, in place of the wonderful altar of beaten gold, they erected a plain white altar—the poorest of all among the churches in the city. Time went on. There were slave uprisings, fires, rebellions against Spain and insurrections. The country was turbulent and unsettled, but the brothers of San José church had nothing to tempt robbers, bandits or revolutionists and they and their little stucco church were left in peace. Even the fires that swept the town and destroyed many of the larger churches spared the little affair on Avenue A. Then came the Americans and the Canal; Panama won her independence, Uncle Sam sanitized the city, established law and order, and bloody, unsettled days were a thing of the past.
“Then for days the priests of San José church busied themselves with mysterious doings behind closed doors and at last, lo and behold, where the white altar had stood, once more gleamed the ancient altar of gold! Through all the years the friars had guarded their secret well. Under its coating of white paint the famed altar had been hidden with never a suspicion of its existence and[122]now that it was safe the white paint had been cleaned off and once more the glorious altar of precious metal glowed and scintillated in the sunlight pouring upon it through the stained glass windows. It is one of the sights of Panama of to-day, but few know of its existence, still fewer know of its history and in the little church on a back street few tourists realize that there stands the most wonderful and the only real treasure salvaged from the ancient city destroyed by the buccaneers.
“And now, boys, let us go back to Morgan and follow his career after he returned to Jamaica from the looting of Panama. While he had been away, peace between Spain and England had been declared, and the King of England, hearing that Jamaica’s Governor encouraged the buccaneers and even shared in their raids, appointed a new governor and ordered the old one to appear before the Crown and explain his behavior. Thus, when Morgan arrived at Jamaica, he found himself declared a pirate and placed under arrest along with the ex-governor. And with his discredited official friend the buccaneer chieftain was transported to England to stand trial for piracy.
“No one knows exactly what arguments Morgan[123]used or how he managed it; but he was a glib talker, a man of great personal magnetism and, moreover, had vast riches at his disposal, and doubtless he employed all these resources to the best of his ability. At any rate, instead of being hung as he richly deserved, he was knighted by the king, was appointed Lieutenant Governor of Jamaica and sent back to the island with instructions to suppress piracy. Maybe the King had method in his madness and thought that if it took a thief to catch a thief it would be well to have a pirate to catch pirates. And in this he was not mistaken. Morgan, having already won the enmity of his former comrades and being discredited as a buccaneer, turned upon the corsairs, and with all the cruelty and unscrupulousness he had exhibited when attacking the Dons, he hunted down the buccaneers, hanged them without trial and sent expeditions out to destroy them. But he was such an utterly unprincipled and dastardly wretch that he could not play fair even as a reformed buccaneer. While destroying buccaneers with one hand he was aiding them with the other and secretly was providing funds and help for his brother and a few chosen friends in their piratical ventures. Owing to rumors of this and complaints[124]of his tyrannical rule, the King at last recalled him and Morgan, sailing from Jamaica, passed into oblivion. Very little is known of what became of him. Some claim he settled down in England and lived quietly upon the proceeds of his robberies; others say he settled in the West Indies, and there is even a rumor that he was assassinated by one of his old shipmates. Whatever his end, he died unknown, unhonored, hated for a traitor, a most atrocious scallawag; after a meteoric career of but five years and the only buccaneer who was ever made a ‘Sir.’
“Now for a change, let me tell you of a buccaneer who found the Spaniards more than a match for him and met his Waterloo at the hands of the Dons. This was no less a personage than the Governor of Tortuga, Monsieur Bertram Ogeron. After Morgan’s raid on Panama, in 1673 to be exact, war broke out between the French and Dutch, and this gave an excuse to the French buccaneers of Tortuga to attack their former friends of the Dutch West Indies. Governor Ogeron, who was quite a famed buccaneer, built and fitted out a large armed vessel which he named the Ogeron in honor of himself and, manning it with five hundred buccaneers, prepared to swoop[125]down on the island of Curaçao. But when nearing Porto Rico and sailing through the Mona Passage between that island and Santo Domingo, a violent storm drove his ship upon the Guadanillas rocks, completely destroying it. Fortunately, or perhaps unfortunately as it turned out, all the men escaped in boats to the main island of Porto Rico. Almost at once they were discovered by the Spaniards who recognized them as French buccaneers, and the castaways being unarmed and helpless they were immediately made prisoners. Although the French begged for mercy and quarter, the atrocities they had committed in the past were still fresh in their captors’ minds and, finding buccaneers at their mercy, they proceeded to wreak vengeance. In a short time they had tortured and killed the majority of the captives and then, securely binding those left alive, they started to drive them across the island to San Juan as slaves. Throughout all this, Ogeron had remained unknown to the Dons, pretending to be a half-witted fool, and his men, to all the Dons’ queries, insisted that their commander had been drowned. Thinking him a poor demented fellow the Spaniards left him free and obtained no little amusement from his crazy capers and insane behavior.[126]Indeed, they found him so diverting that they treated him with kindness, fed him from their own meals, while the other buccaneers were given barely enough to sustain life, and allowed him full liberty. Also among the buccaneers was another favored man, a surgeon, who was also left free in order that he might use his services for the Dons’ benefit, and the two at once plotted to escape and, returning to Tortuga, bring an expedition to Porto Rico to rescue their fellows. Watching their chance, they took to the woods and made towards the coast. This they reached safely, but found themselves almost as badly off as before, for there was not a scrap of food to eat and no chance of getting shelter or making their way to Tortuga. But they were resourceful men and, wandering along the shore, they succeeded in capturing a number of fish in the shoal water. Then, by rubbing sticks together, they obtained fire, roasted the fish and the next day proceeded to cut down trees with the intention of making a raft. Fortunately they had brought along a small hatchet, their only tool and weapon, and with this they undertook their herculean job. They were thus busily at work when, to their delight, they saw a canoe approaching and, hiding in the bushes,[127]they watched it as it drew towards the beach and discovered that it contained two men,—poor fishermen,—a Spaniard and a mulatto. Picking up several calabashes, the mulatto stepped from the little craft and started up the beach, evidently intent on securing water. Stealing stealthily after him the buccaneers, to quote Esquemeling’s words, ‘assaulted him and, discharging a great blow on his head with the hatchet, they soon deprived him of life.’ Hearing his cries, the Spaniard started to escape, but was quickly overtaken and butchered. Then, securing a plentiful supply of water in the dead man’s calabashes, they set sail and a few days later arrived safely at a buccaneers’ lair in Samaná Bay, Santo Domingo.
“Here Ogeron told his story, gathered together all the buccaneers he could find and with a number of ships and several hundred men started on his voyage of rescue and vengeance. The Dons, however, saw his fleet approaching and prepared to give the buccaneers a warm welcome. Unsuspecting, the buccaneers fell into an ambuscade, great numbers were killed and the survivors who did not manage to escape to their ships, were made prisoners. Ogeron himself escaped and shamed and beaten returned to Tortuga, abandoning all[128]hopes of rescuing his unfortunate comrades. In the meantime, the Dons slaughtered the wounded Frenchmen, cut off a few heads and limbs of the corpses to prove to their first prisoners the fate of their friends who had attempted their rescue, and drove the poor fellows on towards the capital. Here in San Juan they were put to work at building the massive fortress of San Cristóbal while a few were transported to Havana as laborers on the fortifications there. But the Dons took no chances with them. Although but a handful of half-starved, shackled slaves yet the buccaneers’ reputation was such that the Spaniards kept them constantly under guard, confining them in separate cells at night, for, to once more quote Esquemeling’s quaint phraseology, ‘the Spaniards had had divers proofs of their enterprises on other occasions which afforded them sufficient cause to use them after this manner.’
“And to make assurance doubly sure, each time a ship sailed for Spain parties of the prisoners were placed on board, transported to Europe and set at liberty. The buccaneers, however, had an almost uncanny faculty of getting together, even when widely separated, and ere long all the prisoners had met in France and were soon back in[129]their old haunt at Tortuga ready for another foray. But they had had enough of Ogeron as a leader and joining Le Sieur Maintenon sailed for Trinidad which they sacked and ransomed for ten thousand pieces of eight and then set forth for the conquest of Caracas. Here, once more, they met defeat, for while they took the port of La Guaira they were ignominiously beaten back on the awful trail over the mountains to Caracas. Many were killed, more were made prisoners and only a handful of survivors escaped and returned, broken and penniless, to Tortuga.”
“Well, I’m glad the Dons did beat them,” declared Fred. “Seems to me the buccaneers had it their own way too often.”
“Yes, that is true,” assented Mr. Bickford, “but you must bear in mind that only the successes of the buccaneers were recorded as a general thing. No doubt they were defeated repeatedly and nothing said of the matter, and if the Spaniards’ story were told it might read very differently. Now that I have told you of Morgan, of the ruthless buccaneers, such as Portugues, L’Ollonois and their kind, let me tell you of the most remarkable expedition ever undertaken by the buccaneers; a trip without a parallel in history[130]and which, for sheer daredevil bravery, indomitable courage, splendid seamanship and wonderful adventures is worthy of a place in the history of the greatest navigators and discoverers of the world. Moreover, this ‘most dangerous voyage,’ as the buccaneer historian calls it, was of real value to the world, as it resulted in scientific discoveries and data, in geographical knowledge and facts about the Indians which otherwise might never have been recorded.”
“It seems funny to think of buccaneers being interested in science or geography or such things,” said Jack, as his father searched through a volume for the chapter he desired. “How did it happen, Dad?”
“One of the members of the expedition was a man named Dampier,” replied his father. “He was the son of an English farmer and at seventeen was apprenticed as a boy aboard a merchant ship sailing to the West Indies. Deserting the ship, he tried his fortunes as a logwood cutter, but finding this held little chance for either riches or excitement, he joined the buccaneers. But Dampier was at heart a naturalist and an author. He was fond of study, was a keen observer and wherever he went he invariably wrote notes[131]recording all he had seen and made excellent maps and sketches. One would hardly expect the career of a buccaneer to favor literary work and yet Dampier managed to write an excellent book while on a buccaneer ship. Often he would be obliged to drop pen and paper in the middle of a chapter in order to help his comrades battle with a Spanish ship or take a town, but he kept it up with fanatical persistence, carried his manuscript and his writing materials with him wherever he went and left most valuable records. What a queer picture he must have presented as he sat on a gun carriage busily jotting down notes on natural history or making sketches of the rugged wooded shores of some buccaneers’ lair, which he always speaks of as ‘a particular draught of my own composure,’ while, beside his ink horn, was his loaded pistol and his trusty cutlass ready for any emergency. His copy he kept in a joint of bamboo, which, he says, ‘I stopt at both ends, closing it with Wax so as to keep out any water. In this way I preserved my Journal and other writings from being wet, tho’ I was often forced to swim.’
“And along with the author-naturalist, Dampier, was many another odd character. There was Foster, who spent his hours between battles[132]composing sentimental poetry and who wrote ‘Soneyettes of Love’ aboard a buccaneer ship; Richard Jobson, a divinity student and chemist, who carried along with his sword and pistols a well-thumbed Greek Testament which he translated aloud for the edification of his piratical mates, and, lastly, Ringrose, the pilot and navigator, whose carefully kept log has given us the true history of this ‘most dangerous voyage and bold assaults of Captain Bartholomew Sharp.’ ”[133]