Captain William Kidd and Others of the Buccaneers

“The occasion hereof was his fear lest the enemies should take an advantage upon his men by any sudden assault. Notwithstanding, one party of English soldiers stickled not to contravene these commands, being thereunto tempted with the desire of finding victuals. But these were soon glad to fly into the town again, being assaulted with great fury by some Spaniards and Indians, who snatched up one of the pirates and carried him away prisoner. Thus the vigilancy and care of Captain Morgan was not sufficient to prevent every accident which might happen.”

On the morning of the 8th, Morgan reviewed his troops. He found that he had still eleven hundred resolute men at his command. He selected a band of two hundred of his best marksmen as an advance guard. They were to watch vigilantly for ambuscades. The path they were to traverse was very narrow. At many places but two could pass abreast. Cautiously they proceeded for ten hours, encountering no sign of an enemy.

At length they reached a dark wooded gorge, which the sunlight could scarcely penetrate. Apparently no one could enter the dense thickets around, of bushes, thorns, and intertwining vines, but by hewing his way with the hatchet. A high mountain rose before them. But nature had tunnelled it, so that there was a narrow path through. This remarkable place was called Quebrada Obscura.

Suddenly, from the impenetrable forest which enveloped the mountain, a shower of arrows fell upon them, like hailstones from the clouds. They probably exaggerated the number in estimating them at between three and four thousand. They came rushing, as by some supernatural impulse, through the leaves. No hand was seen. No sound was heard. No movement was perceptible. There was but that one flight of arrows and no more. Those who, with sinewy arms, had thrown them, in some mysterious way escaped – as it were, vanished.

This singular and inexplicable assault threw the army into great confusion. For a moment, these reckless men were staggered. It seems strange that but eight of the pirates were killed and ten wounded by this shower of arrows. After a few moments’ delay, the pirates moved cautiously forward, threading the narrow tunnel, through which but two could walk abreast, until they came out upon a very rough plain on the other side, encumbered with huge rocks and a growth of gigantic trees. To this vantage-ground the Indians had retreated, and here they seemed disposed to make a stand.

Quite a fierce battle ensued. The Indians could be seen, in large numbers, dodging from rock to rock, and from tree to tree. They fought with great bravery. Their chief was a very handsome young fellow, gorgeously dressed, and with a very brilliant coronet of variegated feathers. He seemed to have no fear. At length, in his zeal, he plunged headlong upon the pirates, utterly regardless of numbers, and endeavored to thrust his javelin through one a little in the advance. The blow was parried, and he was instantly shot down.

As he was seen to fall, there was a loud cry from his followers and, without discharging another shaft, they all fled. The pirates impetuously pursued. The fugitives could not be overtaken. A few of the boldest concealed themselves behind trees and thickets, whence they could make good their retreat, and worried the pirates with a random fire, which sorely wounded a few, without accomplishing any important results.

The buccaneers entered soon upon a broad, treeless prairie. Here they halted to tend the wounded. At some distance before them there was another rocky and wooded eminence. The Indians, who seemed to be swarming there, were evidently preparing for another battle. A party of fifty men was sent, by a circuitous route, to attack them in the rear. Their watchful eyes detected the movement. With nimble feet, they fled, shouting to their assailants, “To the plain, to the plain, you English dogs.”

The pirates rightly interpreted these words to mean that on the plain before Panama a large body of Spaniards was assembled, and that there the great struggle was to take place. Many Spaniards were with the Indians. At this point, which was but a few miles from Panama, they disappeared. The next night there came one of those flooding rains with which tropical lands were so often deluged. The pirates in vain sought shelter from the drenching storm. There was the blackness of darkness, with thunderings and lightnings, and the howlings of the tornado. There were many plantations on the route where houses and huts had been reared. But the Indians had applied the torch. Every building was in ashes. The cattle were driven away. All provisions were removed or consumed. These wretched men, on their fiend-like mission, were still starving.

The next morning, which was the ninth of their journey, the rain ceased. Heavy clouds floated through the sky, darkening the sun, and thus enabling them to march sheltered from its scorching rays. A well-mounted troop of twenty Spaniards appeared at some distance in the advance, watching all the movements of the invaders. During the day they came to quite a high mountain, which it was necessary to cross. From its summit they first caught sight of the Pacific Ocean, and of the Bay of Panama, upon whose shores the city of the same name was situated. In the bay there was a large Spanish ship riding at anchor. Six boats were under sail, directing their course toward the islands of Tavoga and Tavogilla, which were about eighteen miles distant.

At this sight the pirates raised shouts of joy. Never doubting their own prowess, they considered their toils as ended, and the city, with all its treasures, as already in their possession. At the foot of the mountain there was a large grassy plain, over which thousands of cattle were grazing, cows, horses, bulls, mules, and donkeys. With a rush, the piratic gangs descended the mountain, and, with the voracity of famished wolves, fell upon the cattle.

“One shot a horse. Another felled a cow. But the greater part slaughtered the mules, which were most numerous. Some kindled fires; others collected wood; and the strongest hunted the cattle, while the invalids slew and skinned and flayed. The whole plain was soon alight with a hundred fires. The hungry men cut off lumps of flesh, carbonaded them in the flame, and ate them half raw, with incredible haste and ferocity. ‘They resembled,’ Esquemeling says, ‘rather cannibals than Christians, the blood running down their beards to the middle of their bodies.’”^*

CHAPTER XXI
The Capture of Panama

^{First Sight of the City. – The Spanish Scouts Appear. – Morgan’s Advance. – Character of the Country. – Fears of the Spaniards. – Removal of Treasure. – Capture of the City. – The Poisoned Wine. – Magnificent Scenery of the Bay. – Description of Panama and its Surroundings. – Wealth of the City. – Scenes of Crime and Cruelty.}

Morgan was an extraordinary man. Fear never appalled him. He was never discouraged by disasters. Passion was never allowed to throw him off his guard. He shared, in full, all the hardships of his demoniac crew. Though hungry and weary himself, and sympathizing with his starving men in their sufferings, he did not in the least degree remit his watchfulness or lose his self-control.

Perceiving the danger that his men, in their famished condition, indulging in such reckless gluttony might induce sickness which would incapacitate them for battle, he ordered a false alarm to be sounded. Instantly every man seized his musket and ran to his appointed place in the ranks. Morgan had taken the precaution, before descending the mountain, to order every musket to be discharged and loaded afresh, from fear that the powder might have become damp.

There were several miles yet to be traversed over plains and through forests, before the pirates could enter the streets of the city, which they had discerned in the distance. Cautiously they continued their march until the approach of evening when they ascended an eminence which commanded a perfect view of the city, with its steeples, houses, and streets all aglow with the rays of the setting sun. Here the shouts of exultation were renewed. The pirates, strengthened by their feast, danced for joy, beating their drums, sounding their trumpets, firing off their muskets, and exulting as in the hour of perfect victory. Here they encamped for the night, waiting impatiently for the morning, which would usher in the decisive battle.

In the evening two hundred mounted Spaniards rode out from the city, dashed along until they came within hailing distance of the pirates, and shouted out to them words which could not be understood. Morgan established double sentinels, and all his men slept upon their arms.

At daybreak on the tenth day the Spaniards, from their walls, sounded with bugle-peal and drum-beat a challenge to their foes. The pirates were equally eager for the fight. Rapidly they advanced into the plain. The Spaniards, on horseback and on foot, crowded out to meet them. In glittering battalions they were drawn up upon the plain, outnumbering the pirates three to one. There were two squadrons of cavalry, four regiments of foot, and, most singular to relate, “a huge number of wild bulls, roaring and tossing their horns, driven by a great number of Indians and a few mounted matadores.”

It is recorded that the pirates were surprised and alarmed in view of the force thus to be encountered. Many of them wished they were at home. No quarter was to be expected. There was no hope for them but in fighting with the utmost desperation. All were conscious of this. They therefore bound themselves, by the most solemn oaths, to conquer or to spend the last drop of their blood.

Morgan formed his men into three battalions, after selecting a band of two hundred sharpshooters to skirmish in the advance. Many of the Spaniards were armed in glittering coats of mail. Their silken banners, richly embroidered, presented a beautiful appearance as they fluttered in the rays of the morning sun. The Spaniards sent forward a squadron of horse. As they came galloping over the plain, Morgan’s skirmishers fell upon one knee, in the tall grass, and opened upon them a very destructive fire. Several riders dropped from their horses. Several horses, struck by the bullets, and appalled by the sudden explosion of two hundred guns, became uncontrollable, and rushed wildly over the plain in all directions.

“The bulls,” writes Thornbury, “proved as fatal to those who employed them as the elephants to Porus. Driven on the rear of the buccaneers, they took fright at the noise of the battle, a few only broke through the English companies, and trampled the red colors under foot; but these were soon shot by the old hunters. A few fled to the savanna, and the rest tore back and carried havoc through the Spanish ranks.”

The plain was rough with ravines and quagmires, so that the cavalry could not operate to advantage. The desperate pirates were all reckless in their courage, and nearly all unerring in their aim. The Spaniards were also men of war and blood, who had been guilty of the greatest atrocities as they had cut down and robbed the native tribes. They fought with ferocity equal to that of the pirates. In this battle it was, in reality, fiend against fiend. The Spaniards were as bad as the pirates.

For two hours the battle raged with intensest fury. There was neither tree, stump, nor rock to protect either party from the bullets which with deadly velocity swept the plain. On the one side there were eleven hundred pirates. Esquemeling estimated the force of the Spaniards at four hundred cavalry and two thousand four hundred infantry. There were also one or two hundred Indians and negroes to drive the wild bulls through the English camp, hoping thus to break their lines and throw them into confusion. The Spaniards had also dug trenches and raised batteries to arrest the advance of their foes.

Morgan, as usual, ordered his men to approach the city by a circuitous route, so as to avoid the batteries. In preparation for this movement he ordered a review of the troops. He concealed from his troops the number of pirates who had fallen, but announced, probably with some exaggeration, that six hundred of the Spaniards lay dead upon the field.

It would seem that the Spaniards had not been very sanguine as to the result of the battle; for they had shipped to the Island of Tavoga much of their portable wealth and all of their women. In the battle thus far, the Spaniards had been so decidedly beaten that they had abandoned the field, and horse and foot had taken a new stand behind the ramparts. Many prisoners had been taken, including quite a number of Catholic priests. Morgan, not wishing to be encumbered with prisoners, ordered them all to be pistolled. The pirates had lost heavily, but their loss exasperated instead of disheartening them.

Esquemeling writes: “The pirates were nothing discouraged, seeing their numbers so much diminished, but rather filled with greater pride than before, perceiving what huge advantage they had obtained against their enemies. Thus, having rested themselves some while, they prepared to march courageously towards the city, plighting their oaths to one another that they would fight till never a man were left alive. With this courage they recommenced their march either to conquer or to be conquered.

“They found much difficulty in their approach unto the city. For within the town the Spaniards had placed many great guns at several quarters thereof, some of which were charged with small pieces of iron and others with musket bullets. With all these they saluted the pirates at their drawing nigh unto the place, and gave them full and frequent broadsides, firing at them incessantly. From whence it happened that they lost, at every step they advanced, great numbers of men.

“But neither these manifest dangers of their lives, nor the sight of so many of their own dropping down continually at their sides, could deter them from advancing farther and gaining ground every moment upon the enemy. Thus, although the Spaniards never ceased to fire and act the best they could for their defence, yet, notwithstanding, they were forced to deliver the city after the space of three hours’ combat. And the pirates, having now possessed themselves thereof, both killed and destroyed as many as attempted to make the least opposition against them.

“The inhabitants had caused the best of their goods to be transported unto more remote and occult places. Howbeit, they found within the city, as yet, several warehouses well stocked with all sorts of merchandise, as well silks and cloths as linen and other things of considerable value. As soon as the first fury of their entrance into the city was over, Captain Morgan assembled all his men, at a certain place which he assigned, and there commanded them, under very great penalties, that none of them should dare to drink or taste any wine.

“The reason he gave for this injunction was because he had received private intelligence that it had been all poisoned by the Spaniards. Howbeit it was the opinion of many that he gave those prudent orders to prevent the debauchery of his people, which he foresaw would be very great at the beginning, after so much hunger sustained by the way; fearing withal lest the Spaniards, seeing them in wine, should rally their forces, and use them as inhumanly as they had used the inhabitants before.”

Morgan was now master of Panama. The city, with nearly all of its wealth, had fallen into his hands. And still the vanquished Spaniards could rally a force greatly outnumbering his own. The Bay of Panama is one of peculiar beauty. At that time its shores were fringed with luxuriant groves of oranges, figs, and limes. The feathery tops of the cocoanut trees towered over all the rest, rivalled only by the lofty tamarinds. Through the rich foliage there peeped, in much picturesque beauty, numerous cane-built huts. Indian children, entirely unclothed, were running about upon the beach, while birch canoes, light as bubbles, were skimming the placid waves.

The islands of Tavoga and Tavogilla appeared in the distance as masses of foliage. The mines of Mexico and Peru had emptied their floods of wealth into that port. Many of the mansions were architecturally magnificent. They were adorned with the richest paintings and with the most costly furniture. The Spanish grandees had hung upon their walls the masterpieces of Titian, Murillo, and Velasquez. The streets of the city were broad, an unusual circumstance in Spanish cities, and were lined with the most beautiful and ever-flowering of tropical trees.

Within the walls of the city there was a cathedral of imposing magnitude and towering splendor. There were also eight monasteries, massive buildings, occupied by the religious orders, and abundantly supplied with works of art. The broad avenues were lined with two thousand mansions of the wealthy; and five thousand smaller houses and shops crowded the more busy streets. The most imposing block in the city was what was called the Genoese Warehouses. These belonged to a company who had enriched themselves by the slave trade. An immense number of horses and mules were used in transporting goods across the isthmus, from one ocean to the other. These were kept in long rows of stables admirably arranged. The products of the mines of gold and silver were melted down into solid bars called plate or bullion, and in that form were sent to the Old World. The city was surrounded with rich plantations and highly artistic gardens.

“Panama was the city to which all the treasures of Peru were annually brought. The plate fleet, laden with bars of gold and silver, arrived here at certain periods, brimming with the crown wealth, as well as that of private merchants. It returned laden with the merchandise of Panama and the Spanish main, to be sold in Peru and Chili; and still oftener with droves of negro slaves that the Genoese imported from the coast of Guinea to toil and die in the Peruvian mines.

“So wealthy was this golden city that more than two thousand mules were employed in the transport of the gold and silver from thence to Porto Bello, where the galleons were loaded. The merchants of Panama were proverbially the richest in the whole Spanish West Indies. The governor of Panama was the suzerain of Porto Bello, Nata, Cruz, and Veragua. The bishop of Panama was primate of the Terra Firma and the suffragan to the archbishop of Peru. The district of Panama was the most healthy of all the Spanish colonies, rich in mines, and so well wooded that its ship-timber covered with vessels both the northern and the southern seas. Its land yielded full crops, and its broad savannas pastured innumerable herds of wild cattle.”^*

Such was the city and province which had fallen into the hands of this gang of pirates. They found the booty, notwithstanding all the Spaniards had removed, rich beyond their most sanguine expectations. The stores were still crowded with goods of great value. Wine, spices, olive oil, silks and cloths of every variety of fabric were found in great abundance. The magazines were amply supplied with corn and other provisions.

Morgan himself was surprised at the grandeur of his capture. He was also alarmed in view of his own peril. The force which could still be arrayed against him was far greater than he had anticipated. He was in imminent danger of being cut off from his return to the ships. There were several Spanish vessels aground in the port. Morgan seized them. With the high tide they were floated. He manned them with the most desperate of his gang and sent them to the islands, and to pursue the vessels which had escaped with treasure along the coast.

There was one royal Spanish mercantile vessel, in particular, of four hundred tons, which had escaped, laden with church plate and jewels, and the richest merchandise. It had put to sea in the greatest haste, with but seven guns and but about a dozen muskets. It was poorly supplied with food and water, and had only the uppermost sails of the mainmast to spread. All the females of the nunnery were on board this ship, with the most valuable ornaments of the church.

Morgan was anxious to make an immediate pursuit of this vessel. Had he done so the vessel would easily have been captured. But for a time he lost the control of his demoniac crew. Inflamed with wine – for Morgan’s prohibition had no effect – and rushing into the most pitiless debauchery, they spent many hours in scenes which neither Sodom nor Gomorrah could ever have outrivalled. Thus the ship escaped. It is said that it contained gold and silver of greater value than all the treasures found in Panama.

Morgan probably foresaw that unless he could destroy these liquors, with which the city was filled, his men would become entirely disorganized, and the Spaniards, falling upon the drunken rabble, would easily cut them to pieces. He could not destroy liquors before the eyes of the pirates, for they would not permit it.

He set fire to the city in various quarters, carefully spreading the report that the conflagration was kindled by the Spaniards themselves. The fire spread with such rapidity that, in a few hours, nearly all of the business portion was laid in ashes. Most of the humbler buildings were of wood, with thatched roofs. They burned like tinder. Two hundred stores, with all their contents, were destroyed. The Genoese Warehouses were burned. There were many poor slaves imprisoned in them. They were consumed by the all-devouring flames.

This energetic commander, as pitiless as any beast which ever howled in the jungle, had accomplished his purpose. His troops were driven out of the flaming streets into the fields, and there they were compelled to encamp. These wretched men, satiated with gluttony, drunkenness, and debauchery, began now to awake, with new eagerness, to their old passion for plunder.

Four vessels were dispatched to visit the islands and to cruise along the coast in both directions. One hundred and sixty men were sent back to Chagres to convey supplies to the troops in garrison there, and to inform them of the great victory. Daily companies of two hundred men, one party relieving another, were sent out to explore the region around. They returned every night with a group of pale and trembling prisoners, and with mules laden with treasure. These unhappy captives were tortured to compel them to reveal where treasure, of which they knew nothing, was concealed. The father, the mother, the maiden daughter, and the child were alike stretched on the bed of torture. Neither innocence, beauty, nor virtue afforded the female captive any protection.

A pauper Spaniard, not much more than half-witted, wandered, during the confusion, into a rich man’s house, stripped off his rags, and clothed himself in costly linen with breeches of bright red taffeta and a coat of silk velvet. As he was foolishly strutting about admiring his finery, the pirates broke in, and seized him as their prize. They believed, or assumed to believe, that he was the master of the house, and demanded that he should inform them where he had concealed his treasure.

In vain he pointed to his rags and protested, by all the saints, that he had lived upon charity. There was nothing he could reveal. These cruel men stretched him on the rack. They dislocated his joints. They twisted a cord around his forehead, “till his eyes appeared as big as eggs, and were ready to fall out.” They hung him up by the thumbs and scourged him. They cut off his nose and ears and singed his face with blazing straw. Then with the thrusts of their lances they put him to death.

“After this execrable manner,” writes Esquemeling, “did many others of these miserable prisoners finish their days; the common sport and recreation of these pirates being these, and other tragedies not inferior to these.”