The Story of the Nations

THE WEST INDIES

RECEPTION OF SPANIARDS BY ARAWAKS.
(From Gottfried's "Reisen.")

THE WEST INDIES

AND THE

SPANISH MAIN

BY

JAMES RODWAY

SECOND IMPRESSION

London

T. FISHER UNWIN

PATERNOSTER SQUARE

MDCCCXCIX

Copyright by T. Fisher Unwin, 1896
(For Great Britain).
Copyright by G.P. Putnam's Sons, 1896
(For the United States of America).

INTRODUCTION

The story of the West Indies and Spanish Main is one to stir the hearts of many nations. The shores of the Caribbean Sea have been the scene of marvellous adventures, of intense struggles between races and peoples, of pain, trouble, and disaster of almost every description. No wonder that the romance writer has laid his scenes upon its beautiful islands and deep blue waters, for nowhere in the world, perhaps, could he find such a wealth of incident. From "Robinson Crusoe" to Marryat's genial stories, and down to "Westward Ho!" and "Treasure Island," old and young have been entranced for many generations with its stories of shipwrecks, pirates, sea-fights, and treasure-seekers. Yet with all this the field has not been exhausted, for hardly a year passes without a new romance dealing more or less with the "Indies."

Under this name of the Indies the islands and continent were first known to the Spaniards, and it was not until some years had passed that the mainland received the name of Terra Firma. The string of islands facing the Atlantic were the Antilles, so called from a traditional island to the west of the Azores, marked on maps and globes of the fifteenth century. This "Bow of Ulysses," as Froude called the islands, was divided into the Greater and Lesser Antilles, the latter being also known as the Caribbees, from their original inhabitants. Other divisions were made later into Windward and Leeward Islands, but these differed so much in the descriptions of different nations that it would be as well to leave them out of the question. Perhaps the best way would be to name the whole the Antilles or West Indian Islands and divide them, in going from north to south, into the Bahamas, the Greater Antilles, and the Caribbees.

When we think of these beautiful islands and shores they recall those of that other "Great Sea" which was such a mighty factor in the development of Greece and Rome, Phœnicia and Carthage, Venice and Genoa. As Ulysses and Æneas wandered about the Mediterranean, so the early voyagers sailed along the coasts of the Caribbean Sea and the Gulf of Mexico in fear of anthropophagoi, amazons, giants, and fiery dragons. As the Indies were the scene of struggles between great nations and the raids of buccaneers, so also was the Mediterranean a battlefield for Christian and Turk, and a centre for piracy.

Reports of golden cities, pearls and emeralds in profusion, and wealth that passed all description, led the Spaniards to explore every island and river, until the cannibals became less alarming. Yet their sufferings were terrible. Hurricanes sunk their frail craft on the sea and earthquakes wrung their very souls on land. Starvation, with its consequent sickness and death, destroyed one party after another, but they still went on. The discovery of the riches of Mexico and Peru led them to look for other rich nations, and to travel thousands of miles on the mainland, guided by the reports of the Indians. Undaunted by suffering and failure, they would often try again and again, perhaps only to perish in the attempt at last.

The treasures of the Indies made Spain the greatest nation in Europe. With her riches she could do almost anything. Other nations bowed down before her, and she became sovereign of the seas and mistress of the world. No matter how it was obtained, gold and silver flowed into her coffers; what did she care that it was obtained by the bloody sweat of the poor Indians?

Then came envy and jealousy. Why should Spain claim the whole of the New World? England, Holland, and France began to dispute her supremacy and determined to get a share of the good things. The "invincible domination" of Spain led her to declare war against England, with the result that the hardy sea-dogs of that time began to worry the fat galleons at sea, and to pillage the treasure depôts on the Main.

And here we must mention that there were two important places in the Indies where Spain was most vulnerable—the Mona Passage between Hispaniola and Porto Rico and the Isthmus of Darien. Through the first came the outward fleets with supplies, and on their return with gold and silver, while on the Isthmus was the depôt for merchandise and the great treasure store. At these two points the enemy congregated, either as ships of war, buccaneers, corsairs, or pirates, and in their neighbourhood some of the most bitter struggles took place. There was no peace in the Indies, whatever might nominally be the case in Europe. Englishmen's blood boiled at the atrocities of the Spaniards, but we are afraid it was not love for the oppressed alone that made them massacre the Spaniards whenever they got an opportunity. The poor Indian received but a scant measure of justice from these very people, when as a matter of convenience they required possession of the Caribbee islands.

Other nations took possession of smaller islands, unoccupied by Spain, and from these centres continued their raids, as privateers in war, and as pirates at other times. Sometimes they were united among themselves against the common enemy, sometimes at war with each other. France and Holland against England, England and Holland against France—nothing but quarrels and fighting. Now an island changed hands, and again it was restored or recaptured. The planters were never sure of being able to reap their crops, and often had literally to superintend the estate work, armed with sword and arquebuse, while their black and white slaves cultivated the soil.

Now the West Indies became the great training ground for three maritime nations—England, France, and Holland. Spain lost her prestige, and the struggle lay among her enemies for over a century. At first the three disputants for her place were equally matched; then Holland dropped behind, leaving England and France to fight it out. The struggle was a very close one, which only ended with the fall of Napoleon, and it was in the Caribbean Sea where the great check to France took place. Here Rodney defeated De Grasse, and here Nelson and many another naval officer gained that experience which served them so well in other parts of the world.

Here also was the scene of that great labour experiment, the African slave-trade. The atrocities of the Spaniards caused the depopulation of the Greater Antilles, and led to the importation of negroes. Whatever may be said against slavery, there can hardly be any question that the African has been improved by his removal to another part of the world and different surroundings. True, he has not progressed to the extent that was expected by his friends when they paid such an enormous sum for his enfranchisement; still, there are undoubtedly signs of progress.

The white colonists in the West Indies never settled down to form the nucleus of a distinct people. Since the emancipation the islands have been more and more abandoned to the negroes and coloured people, with the result that although the government is mostly in the hands of the whites, they are in such a minority as to be almost lost. In Cuba there appears to be such a feeling of patriotism towards their own island that probably we shall soon hear of a new republic, but elsewhere in the islands our hopes for the future must lie in the negroes and coloured people.

On the mainland the original inhabitants were not exterminated as in the large islands, and consequently we have there a most interesting process in course of accomplishment—the development of one or more nations. Here are the true Americans, and as the Gaul was merged in the Frank, and the Briton in the Saxon, so the Spaniard has been or will ultimately be lost in the American. At present the so-called Spanish republics are in their birth-throes—they are feeling their way. Through trouble and difficulty—revolution and tyranny—they have to march on, until they become stronger and more fitted to take their places among other nations. Out of the struggle they must ultimately come, and it will be a most interesting study for those who see the result.

In Hispaniola we have also a nation in the course of development—an alien race from the old world. More backward than the Americans, the Africans of Haïti are struggling to gain a position among other nations, apparently without any good result. The nation is yet unborn, and its birth-throes are distressing. We look upon that beautiful island and feel sad that such a paradise should have fallen so low. As a race the negro has little of that internal power that makes for progress—he must be compelled to move on. Some are inclined to look upon him as in the course of degenerating into the savage, but we, on the contrary, believe him to be progressing slowly.

In the islands belonging to European nations the influence of the dominant power is visible in the negro even when he has no trace of white blood. The French, English, or Dutch negro may be recognised by his manners, and even features. In some places East Indians and Chinese have been imported, but these stand alone and make little impression. They are aliens as yet, and take little part in the development of the colonies.

Latterly the West Indies have sunk into neglect by Europe. Except for the difficulties of the planters their history is almost a blank sheet. Few know .anything about the beautiful islands or the grand forests of the mainland. Even the discovery of gold in Guiana, which goes to confirm the reports of Ralegh, three centuries ago, is only known to a few. Ruin and desolation have fallen upon them since the peace of 1815 and the emancipation. Even the negro—the protégé of the benevolent—is no longer the object of interest he once was. Cane sugar is being gradually ousted by that from the beet, and hardly anything has been done to replace its cultivation by other tropical products.

Yet the islands are still as lovely as they were four centuries ago, and on the continent is a wealth of interest to the naturalist and lover of the beautiful. Now and again a tourist goes the round of the islands and publishes the result in a book of travel; but the countries are out of the track of civilisation and progress. Possibly if the Panama or Nicaragua Canal is ever finished things may be a little better, but at present the outlook is very dismal.

In attempting to compress the story of the West Indies and Spanish Main within the covers of one volume we have undertaken a task by no means easy. Every island and every province has its own tale, and to do them all justice would require a hundred books. Every West Indian will find something missing—some event unmentioned which is of the greatest importance to his particular community. This is only to be expected, yet we believe that the reader will get a fairer idea of their importance when they are comprehended in one great whole. The photo block illustrations are from negatives prepared by Mr. Thomas B. Blow, F.L.S.

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS

THE WEST INDIES

I

THE SPANIARDS AND THEIR VICTIMS

When the early writers spoke of America as the new world, mundus novus, they could hardly have appreciated the full meaning of the name. True, it was a new world to them, with new animals, new plants, and a new race of mankind; but the absolute distinctness of everything, especially in the tropical regions, was not understood. With our fuller knowledge the ideas of strangeness and novelty are more and more impressed, and we are ready to exclaim, Yes! it is indeed a new world.

Unlike those of the eastern hemisphere, the peoples of the West are of one race. Apart from every other, the development of the American Indian has gone on different lines, the result being a people self-contained, as it were, and unmodified until the arrival of the European. The American is perhaps the nearest to the natural man, and his character is the result of nature's own moulding. When compared with the European or Asiatic he seems to be far behind, yet the civilisation of Peru and Mexico was in some respects in advance of that of their conquerors. This was brought about by a dense population which forced men into collision with each other—in other parts of the continent and on the islands they were more isolated and therefore less civilised.

In the forest region of the Spanish Main, and on the West Indian islands, the communities were, as a rule, very small and isolated one from another. A kind of patriarchal system prevented much communication, and inter-tribal disputes were a bar to union. Every community distrusted every other, and even when one tribe fought against its neighbour there were few attempts to bring the sections together against the common enemy.

On the coasts and islands of the Caribbean Sea, at the time of their discovery, lived two distinct peoples, the Arawaks and the Caribs. There were also a few other tribes of minor importance, such as the Warrows, but these made little impression, and may therefore be left out of consideration. The remnants of the two great stocks still exist in Guiana and at the mouth of the Orinoco, living to-day in much the same manner as they did when the country was first discovered by the Spaniards.

Four centuries ago the Greater Antilles were exclusively inhabited by Arawaks, and the Lesser by Caribs. The Arawak, as his name implies, was more or less an agriculturalist—a meal-eater, a cultivator of vegetables, mainly cassava. From the poisonous root of this plant bread, drink, and a preservative sauce for meat, were prepared, so that, with game or fish, it formed the staff of life. The probable course of his migration was from Yucatan or Mexico to the south-east, terminating in Guiana, and from thence north through the whole of the Antilles. When Columbus arrived people of this stock filled the larger islands and the Bahamas, but along the coast and in the island of Trinidad they disputed the occupation of the territories with the Caribs. In Porto Rico also the Caribs had become aggressive, and even in Hispaniola the Arawaks had to defend their shores against that warlike people. If we believe the accounts of the Spaniards the inhabitants of the Greater Antilles were not altogether a savage people. Whether they had destroyed all the larger game, or whether they found none on their arrival, the fact remains that they were agriculturalists rather than huntsmen. They were, however, expert in fishing, and built great canoes with sails, in which they carried on their operations even in comparatively rough water. Their provision grounds were highly praised by the Spaniards in language that could hardly apply to little clearings like those in the Guiana forest. In them were grown, besides cassava, yams, sweet potatoes, and maize, while other things such as cotton and tobacco were also largely cultivated. The natives had also acquired several arts besides that of canoe building, which, when we consider their want of proper implements, was almost wonderful. Cotton was spun and woven into cloth for their scanty garments, gold cast and hammered into figures and ornaments, and wood and stone idols and weapons were also carved. All this was done with stone implements, even to the work of hollowing great logs for their canoes, and shaping planks. We read of axe-heads made of guanin, an alloy of gold and copper, and also of attempts to make similar tools of silver, but these were very rare, and could hardly have been utilised to any good purpose. When we appreciate the labour and pains taken in excavating a large canoe, with only fire and the stone adze, we can see that these people were by no means idle. Nor were they altogether wanting in appreciation of art, for the figures on their baskets and pottery were beautifully true geometrical patterns, and their so-called idols, although grotesque and rude, often striking.

On the mainland the Arawaks lived in small communities, only electing a war-chief as occasion required—in Haïti the Cacique seems to have been leader and ruler as well. And here we must mention the most striking characteristic of the American Indian—his utter abhorrence of anything like coercion. Even in childhood his parents let him do as he pleases, never attempting to govern him in any way. It followed therefore that neither war-captain nor Cacique had any real power to compel them to a course they disliked, and that discipline was entirely wanting. The traveller in Guiana at the present day can thoroughly understand this trait of character, for he has to take it into account if he wishes to get their assistance. They must be treated as friends, not as servants, and the greatest care taken not to offend their dignity, unless he wishes to be left alone in the forest.

RECEPTION OF SPANIARDS BY CARIBS.
(From Gottfried's "Reisen.")

They quarrelled little among themselves, and only fought against the Caribs; they were peaceable, kind, and gentle, so hospitable to strangers that Columbus could hardly say enough in their favour. "A better race there cannot be," he declared to his sovereigns, and this opinion was confirmed by all who came into contact with them. In fact if you do nothing to offend him, the Arawak of to-day is the same quiet and gentle fellow who met the voyagers on their arrival at Guanahani.

The Caribs were a stronger race, and had probably followed the same track as the Arawaks in a later migration. At the time of the discovery they appear to have driven the more gentle race from the smaller islands south of Porto Rico, and had taken their women as wives. All along the coast the two tribes fought with each other, but on account of the greater stretch of country there was nothing like the extermination which took place in the Lesser Antilles. The Arawaks retired up the rivers and creeks, leaving their enemies to take possession of the coast, which they did to such good purpose that the Spaniards were unable to get a footing in Guiana. All the early writers agree that the Caribs were man-eaters—in fact the word cannibal seems to have been derived from their name. In the smaller islands they had eaten all the men of the gentler tribe, and now made periodical raids on the larger, from whence they carried off prisoners to be cooked and devoured at leisure. These raids led to combinations on the part of the inhabitants of Haïti and Porto Rico, and hitherto they had been successful in preventing anything like an occupation of these islands by their enemies. Whether these successes would have continued is doubtful; the arrival of the Spaniards upset everything.

The Carib was not so entirely dependent on the produce of the soil as the meal-eater. He was a hunter and fisherman, but above everything else a warrior. His women had provision grounds like those of the Arawak, possibly because they came from that stock. The Carib's hunting grounds were circumscribed and poor, and his craving for meat could only be appeased in one way—by eating his enemies. Probably this made him all the more fierce and bloodthirsty, as a flesh diet is certainly more stimulating than one of fish and starchy tubers.

If the Arawak was impatient of control, the Carib was even more independent. The former would pine away and die under coercion, the latter refused absolutely to be a slave. He would die fighting for his liberty, but never admit that he was conquered. It was not he who welcomed the Spaniards to the West Indies—on the contrary, he did everything possible to prevent their landing on his shores. His so-called treachery caused many difficulties to the new-comers, but taken altogether he was much respected by them as a foe worthy of their steel.

These two peoples lived in a country which Columbus described as a veritable paradise—in fact he thought he had discovered the site of the Garden of Eden. Into this beautiful world he let loose a band of robbers and murderers, to depopulate and make it a wilderness. They were the product of an entirely different environment—a continent in which every man's hand was against that of his neighbour. For a long time Spain had been a battlefield, on which the most warlike instincts of mankind came to the front. Her soldiers understood the advantages of discipline, and would follow their leaders wherever anything was to be gained, yet at the same time they were individuals, and as such fought for their own hands as well.

A CORNER OF PARADISE. THE VICTORIA REGIA.

Like the rest of Christendom Spain was very religious, and after treasure-seeking, the adventurers of that nation meant to convert the heathen. The cross was erected everywhere on landing, and religious services held to pray for help in their undertakings. If the cruelties that followed were not quite in accordance with Christ's teachings we must put it down to the manners and customs of the age. Ignorance was really the great characteristic of that period, and the brilliancy of the few only shone out the brighter because of the dark background. The majority were steeped in superstition, and almost entirely dominated by their passions.

Columbus was continually harping upon the desirability of making the natives of the new world Christians. "Your Highness," he said, in one of his letters, "ought to rejoice that they will soon become Christians, and that they will be taught the good customs of your kingdom." He took nine of them to Spain, on his return from the first voyage, who were baptized and taught the Spanish language. The king and queen told him to deal lovingly with those in the Indies, and to severely punish any who ill-treated them. More were sent to Spain and allowed to go back for the purpose of "gaining souls." Columbus, however, did not altogether agree with his sovereigns—his project was to send enough as slaves to pay the expenses of his expeditions, and he actually shipped four lots for that purpose. But Ferdinand and Isabella would not have this, and even went so far as to prohibit the deportation of the Caribs notwithstanding the admiral's argument that they were unworthy of the royal clemency, because they ate men and were enemies of the friendly Arawaks.

EN ROUTE TO THE GOLDFIELDS OF GUIANA. PASSING THE RAPIDS OF THE ESSEQUEBO.

How the new world was discovered in 1492 has been told so often that it is hardly necessary to repeat the story. Haïti, named Hispaniola or Little Spain, was chosen from the first as the island on which a settlement should be planted. Here Columbus left thirty-nine colonists under the command of Diego de Arana, and under the protection of the great Cacique Guacanagari. He "trusted to God" that on his return he would find a ton of gold and a large quantity of spices, with the proceeds of which his sovereigns might undertake the conquest of Jerusalem from the infidels.

A ton of gold! This was the whole end and aim of his expedition. Everything else was subordinate to this. He had seen the natives wearing gold ornaments, and found that the precious metal could be gathered from certain streams on the island. But, could he estimate the amount of labour required to procure such an enormous quantity, by people who had no other appliances than baskets? This alone was enough to bring trouble upon the peaceful island.

But this was not all. The colonists quarrelled among themselves, interfered with the Indian women, went hunting for gold all over the country, took it wherever it could be found, and stole provisions when their friends did not bring them enough. Not satisfied with the district of the friendly Cacique, they ravaged that of Caonabo, the Carib chieftain of another clan, a man of a different stamp. He resented the insults at once by attacking the Spaniards, who, notwithstanding the assistance of their allies, were utterly exterminated. When Columbus arrived, instead of a ton of gold, he found nothing but the blackened ruins of the fort and houses.

This should have been a lesson to the Spaniards, but unfortunately it only led to further quarrels. The new-comers did not intend to cultivate the soil; their main object was treasure, and they expected the natives to provide them with food. And here we must mention the fact that the people of tropical climes never have any store of provisions laid up—this is only necessary where winter prevails for half the year. It follows therefore that however liberal they may feel towards strangers, their supplies being restricted to their own wants leave little to give away. Up to a certain point the Indian gives freely, but when this means privation to himself he withholds his hand. The want of a full appreciation of this fact caused great trouble in many of the early settlements, and in some cases led to their destruction. The natives promised food supplies; but when they found themselves starving, naturally withheld further assistance. The settlers considered this a breach of faith, and made incursions on the provision grounds, taking what they wanted, and seriously injuring the crops. This the Indians resented, and deadly quarrels ensued, which ended in their driving out the colonists or deserting the place altogether. In the latter case the food supply was necessarily cut off, and often led ultimately to the abandonment of the colony.

To the kindly people of Hispaniola the new-comers were gods, and their horses and cattle preternatural creatures. While wondering and admiring, they were at the same time frightened at these out-of-the-way men and animals, especially when the soldiers exhibited themselves on horseback. At first they thought them immortal, and were disagreeably surprised when they fell before the army of Caonabo. But even the proverbial worm will turn, and soon the oppressions of the second colonists drove the poor Haïtians to resist. To labour in the field was beneath the dignity of the adventurous treasure-seekers—the natives must supply them with provisions. What they had brought from Spain was soon spoilt in such a hot climate—no one had yet learned how to pack for long voyages. They must get food, and what was the good of having thousands of people, and acres of cultivated land in their neighbourhood, if the natives did not bring in as much as was required? At first they were supplied willingly, but when the results of this profuse hospitality began to tell upon themselves, the poor Haïtians withheld their hands. Then the Spaniards began complaining to the Cacique, who, however, had no real authority over his people in a matter of this kind, and therefore could do nothing. Driven by want the Spaniards made incursions on the provision grounds, where they spoilt as much as they took away, and left a waste behind. Sometimes they met with resistance, and the defenders were cut down without mercy. The spoilers only wanted an excuse for fleshing their swords; they were even anxious to show their powers, and make the natives feel that at last they had masters.

WORRYING THE NATIVES WITH DOGS.
(From Gottfried's "Reisen.")

Before two years had passed the Spaniards were beset with difficulties. The Indian looked despairingly at his wasted fields, and refused to cultivate them any longer. Why should he plant for others when he himself was starving? Some fled into the mountains and forests of the interior, others died of want. This naturally told upon the white men, who had not yet learnt that they must cultivate the soil if they wanted its produce. They could not demean themselves to this, but must have the power to compel the inhabitants and owners of this beautiful island to work for them.

The home authorities knew what was going on, and did their best according to their lights to provide a remedy. At first they gave large tracts of land to the settlers, repartimientos as they were called, but what was the use of these if their owners could get no labourers? Then to every grant was allotted a certain number of Indians as slaves, and thus the cruel system that ultimately depopulated the Greater Antilles and the Bahamas was introduced.

Those who were not allotted as slaves were compelled to pay tribute. In the neighbourhood of the gold-washings this was to consist of a little bellful of gold; in other places of an arroba (28 lbs.) of cotton, once a quarter for every person above the age of fourteen. Metal tokens to hang upon the neck were given as receipts, and when these were absent the people were severely punished. Thus this gentle and independent race was enslaved.

A MODERN ALLUVIAL GOLD WASHING.

Even with modern appliances and the use of quicksilver, gold-washing is a most precarious business; what then could it have been here with nothing but a basket and gourd? Columbus had such exaggerated ideas that, when he saw the gold-washings of Cibao, he came to the conclusion they were the Ophir of the Bible; from his reports the king and queen thought nothing of demanding this small tribute. To the Indian, however, the gleaning of the tribute meant the labour of days and weeks, and when there were so many seekers it was found utterly impossible for each to gather his amount. Then they ran away, and were hunted with dogs, brought back, and compelled to wash the gravel under surveillance, subject to the pricks of a sword if they were not active enough. But, even with all this, the returns were not equal to what was expected, and the tribute had ultimately to be abandoned. However, it was stated that as much as the value of a million crowns per annum was extracted during the best years, at a cost of pain and suffering awful to contemplate.

SUICIDES.
(From Gottfried's "Reisen.")

The cotton tribute had also to be abandoned, and even the repartimientos were not a success. If they had been willing, the natives could hardly have performed steady work, and as slaves they were almost valueless. In their natural condition they laboured when they chose, wasting time as we should say with little good result. Now their masters demanded heavy tasks which prevented their working on their own provision grounds, and yet provided little or nothing in the way of rations. Hundreds died of starvation; thousands committed suicide. Some jumped from high precipices; they hanged, stabbed, drowned, and poisoned themselves; mothers destroyed their babes to save them from the misery of living. If caught in such attempts they were flogged, had boiling water or melted lead poured over them, and were otherwise tortured until death came to their relief. Their cruel masters, however, rarely wished to kill them outright—they were too valuable. No, they must break down this dogged, stubborn spirit—treat them as horses and mules, until they bent themselves to the yoke.

It was left for bands of soldiers on foraging expeditions to kill in mere wantonness. A company would be travelling through the island and come upon a village, where perhaps they stopped for a short rest. The people looked on, admiring their shining armour and weapons, wondering what sort of creatures these were that so quietly cropped the grass and shrubs. One of the soldiers would take out his sword, feel its keen edge, and think what a pity it was that the weapon should be used so little. Behind him comes a little boy. The temptation is great; in a moment the sharp weapon flashes and the child lies dead. The Indians fly, and the whole party follows, chasing and slaughtering to their heart's content, not knowing nor caring why. In a few minutes fifty are killed, the soldiers return to their bivouac, and if they inquire into the matter at all pass it off as a good jest.

Is it any wonder that the population decreased to a wonderful degree in a few years? The sugar-cane had been introduced by Columbus on his second voyage, and labour was soon required for cultivating this and other crops. As long as slaves were procurable the planters throve, and as by that time Hispaniola had become the great centre of the Indies, the settlers were in a fair way to make fortunes. But the decrease in the population became alarming, and something had to be done; then, new settlers were continually arriving who also wanted slaves. It followed, therefore, that some of the more audacious of the adventurers took up the trade of kidnapping the Indians from other islands and the mainland. A host of disappointed treasure-seekers had ransacked every shore, and were now well prepared for the business of man-hunting.

The first people to suffer were those who so kindly welcomed Columbus on his arrival—the gentle inhabitants of the Bahamas. They were even more peaceful than the Haïtians, because they had not suffered from Carib invasions. When the slave hunters told them to come to the south and live with their ancestors, they willingly allowed themselves to be carried off to suffer like their neighbours. Some ran away and got to the northern shores of Hispaniola, where they stretched out their hands to their beautiful homes and then died of grief.

Having entirely depopulated the smaller islands, and being prevented from kidnapping the people of Cuba, Porto Rico, and Jamaica, by the settlers on those islands, they tried the Caribbees. Here they met their match. No longer was it the gentle Arawak whom they encountered, but the ferocious cannibal. Like his foes he had been trained in war for many generations. Not only did he refuse to work for the stranger, but even went so far as to oppose his landing. On his islands was little to attract the treasure-seeker, and if he would not submit to be a slave, nothing was to be gained by interfering with him. This the Spaniard found out by bitter experience. A few vessels were wrecked on these inhospitable shores, the crews of which escaped to land only to be killed and eaten, after being tortured with all the ingenuity of the savage. Even a landing for fresh water had to be made in the most cautious manner, and the carriers protected by a strong guard. No doubt the Caribs had heard of the white man's cruelties from their Arawak prisoners, and were therefore all the more ready to repel their invasions. This was particularly noticeable later when the English and French arrived and found them by no means so ferocious as the Spaniards had reported. Possibly they knew these people to be enemies to their foes, and were therefore all the more ready to be friendly as long as no attempts were made to oppress them.

Hispaniola rose to some importance very quickly, and almost as quickly declined. The settlers depopulated the island, and then complained of the want of labourers. The gold-seekers went elsewhere, and Mexico and the isthmus of Darien became of more importance. Some writers have attempted to give the number of Indians exterminated in the early years of the sixteenth century, but little reliance can be placed on their statistics. Generally, they range from one to three millions, but it is doubtful whether even the lowest figure is not too high. Yet, when we read the statement of Columbus that crowds of people (in one place two thousand) came forth to meet him, and his description of the large area of cultivated land, as well as the broad and good roads, it is not difficult to conceive that a million people lived in these great islands.

With the destruction of the labourers down fell the plantations. Cattle had been introduced and throve wonderfully; now they ran wild over the islands, especially Hispaniola, until they became innumerable. On the abandoned provision grounds of the Indians they found a virgin pasturage. Hogs also took to the woods, and increased even faster than the cattle. At first there were neither huntsmen nor carnivorous animals to check this wonderful development. The once domesticated animals recovered some of the powers and capacities of their wild ancestors, and only required enemies to assist in bringing out other latent characters. And these were not long wanting. Large and powerful hounds had been imported from Spain to hunt the runaway Indians, and now that their occupation was gone, they also took to the woods and savannahs. Like their ancestors and cousins, the wolves, they combined into packs and fought the cattle and hogs. Both hunters and hunted became stronger and fiercer—the dogs learnt how best to attack, and their prey to defend themselves. It was a struggle like that between the cannibals and meal-eaters—nature's method of preserving the balance of life. This equalisation no doubt would have been the result had not man interfered; how this happened we must leave to another chapter.

II

THE QUEST FOR "EL DORADO"

Ophir was not found in the islands, and the bands of adventurers went over to terra firma or the mainland to continue the search. Along the coast of Guiana and Venezuela they again came across the gentle Arawak and ferocious Carib, the latter making himself respected everywhere, while his poor-spirited fellow-countryman was alternately caressed and plundered. In every place the Spaniards found gold ornaments, and every tribe told them that the precious metal was only obtainable in some far distant country. The Haïtians sent Columbus to the south in search of the guanin country, and it was there he discovered the coast of Paria and the delta of the mighty Orinoco. But he was not fated to come across the treasure cities of the Indies.

Others followed to at last conquer Mexico and Peru, but even then it was generally believed that nations existed who had more riches to be plundered than those of the Inca and Montezuma. To find these golden regions the voyagers wandered in every direction, contributing much to the knowledge of the coasts and rivers, but always coming back disappointed.

The horrors of this search can hardly be appreciated nowadays. The ships were so small and ill-found that we should hardly care to use them for coasters, yet in them these pioneers crossed the Atlantic and encountered the hurricanes of the West Indies. Decked only at bow and stern, the waves dashed into the hold and wetted the provisions, while the sun poured down upon the water casks and burst their wooden hoops. The butter and cheese stank, the flour in sacks became mouldy, and the bacon and salt fish putrid. Then the hull of the vessel was unprotected, and the teredo, or ship worm, bored it through and through, until nothing but careening and caulking could save the poor craft from sinking. When we understand the privations and dangers of this navigation we are not surprised that the adventurers often came to grief, but rather wonder that any of them survived.

Living in the West Indies, we have often thought of the pain and suffering it would produce if we were compelled to walk or sit in the burning sun armed as were the soldiers at that period. We can hardly believe that they wore steel body armour, yet the evidence is too strong to be refuted. True, they gave it up afterwards in favour of quilted cotton, but before they did so how hot they must have felt! We can fancy the sentry standing exposed to the full blaze of the sun, his helmet and breastplate burning hot and his woollen underclothing saturated with perspiration. Then there would be the open boat ascending a river. The occupants dared not row in the shade for fear of cannibals shooting at them with poisoned arrows from the thicket, and out in the river they must have felt as if in a furnace. Even with our white clothing and light hats a long journey in an open boat when the sun is high often ends in fever, and almost invariably in a headache. The neck and backs of the hands get blistered, and become sore, the glare on the water dazzles the eye, and we feel faint.

In one of the accounts of such a boating expedition on a river in Guiana we read of the men finding some yellow plums floating on the water, and of their being much refreshed by them. We also have come across these hog-plums when almost exhausted by a long exposure on the open river, and when even our negro steersman was nodding as he held the paddle. Suddenly we came to our destination, the mouth of a creek, and were under an arcade of vegetation, beneath which the plums floated on the cool dark water.

The men of the sixteenth century must have been stronger than ourselves, or they could hardly have endured such pain and privation. They lay down on the bare earth night after night, and on board ship went to sleep on naked planks. As they could endure pain and discomfort, so also could they inflict it on others. The rough seamen learnt to bear hardships which blunted their feelings of humanity and made them inclined to torture others. When in the hands of the cannibals they were almost as stoical as the savage himself, their ruling passion being a desire for revenge. If cruelly treated by one tribe they retaliated on others; in the same way the Indians killed one party of Spaniards to avenge the insults of their countrymen. This led to a great deal of trouble and made the voyages of the treasure-seekers dangerous to all. However free from blame one party might be, they were liable to suffer for previous wrong-doings and they in turn left behind them injuries to be avenged on the next comers.

A GUIANA RIVER. THE TUMATAMARI FALLS.

And then, how very audacious these adventurers were! Alonzo de Ojeda was perhaps the most striking example of utter recklessness in face of danger. In 1509 he entered the harbour of Carthagena in spite of a warning that its shores were inhabited by a ferocious tribe who fought with palm-wood swords and poisoned arrows. It was even stated that the women mingled in the battle, and could use the bow and a kind of lance.

These people had been irritated by another party of Spaniards, and on sight of the vessels were up in arms at once. However, Ojeda was undaunted, and landed at once with his men and some friars, who had been sent to convert the Indians. In front stood the enemy brandishing their weapons, and prepared for the first hostile movement. Yet, even under these critical circumstances, he ordered the usual proclamation to be read to the Indians in a language of which they knew nothing. He, Alonzo de Ojeda, servant of the most high and mighty sovereigns of Castile and Leon, conquerors of barbarous nations, notified them that God had given St. Peter the supreme power over the world, which power was exercised by the Pope, who had given all that part of the world to these sovereigns. They were called upon to acknowledge this sovereignty at once, which, if they refused to do, he would bring upon them the horrors of war, desolation to their houses, confiscation of their property, and slavery to their wives and children.

INHABITANTS OF THE SPANISH MAIN.
(From Colijn's "Reisen.")

While one of the friars read this address the savages stood on the defensive, no doubt wondering what the delay meant. Ojeda knew not their language, and they took little notice of his signs of amity. As they still brandished their weapons, the intrepid adventurer led on an attack, calling the Virgin to his aid, and in a few minutes put them to flight, killing a few and taking others prisoners. Not content with this, he followed them through the forest to their village, and after a deadly fight, drove them out and burnt their dwellings. Still undaunted, he went on to another village, which he found deserted, but while his men were searching for plunder he was attacked by the enemy in overwhelming numbers. All his followers were killed, and he himself wounded with a poisoned arrow, yet he managed to escape into the forest to suffer hunger and thirst in addition to the pain of his wound.

Meanwhile his men on board the ships were wondering what had become of their leader and his party. They were afraid to venture far into the woods on account of the yells and shouts of the Indians, who were celebrating their triumph. At last, however, they commenced a search, and found their captain in a mangrove swamp, lying on a tangle of roots, speechless and dying of hunger, yet still clutching his naked sword and bearing his buckler. Notwithstanding all this, he ultimately recovered, to go on as eagerly as ever in making fresh conquests.

Later, the proclamation to the Indians was interpreted to them, sometimes eliciting replies very much to the point. When the Bachelor Enciso went in search of the country of Zenu, where gold was so plentiful that it could be collected in the rainy season in nets stretched across the river, he was opposed by two Caciques, to whom the paper was read. They listened courteously, and, when it had been expounded, said they were quite willing to admit that there was one God, the ruler of heaven and earth, whose creatures they were. But as to the Pope's regency and his donation of their country to the king of Spain, that was another thing altogether. The Pope must have been drunk when he gave away what was not his, and the king could only have been mad to ask him for the territory of others. They, the Caciques, were the rulers of these territories, and needed no other sovereign: if their king came to take possession they would cut off his head and stick it on a pole, as they did the heads of their other enemies, at the same time pointing to a row of grisly skulls impaled close by. Their arguments, however, were useless, for Enciso attacked, routed them, and took one of the Caciques prisoner.

The accounts of the early voyagers are full of such examples of audacity as well as of endurance of suffering. The perils of the sea were as great as those of the land, but few voyages were as disastrous as that of Valdivia, who in 1512 sailed from Darien for Hispaniola. When in sight of Jamaica, his vessel was caught in a hurricane and driven upon some shoals called the Vipers, where it was dashed to pieces. He and his twenty men barely escaped with their lives in a boat without sails, oars, water, or provisions. For thirteen days they drifted about, until seven were dead and the remainder helpless. Then the boat stranded on the coast of Yucatan, and the poor wretches were captured by Indians, to be taken before their Cacique. They were now put into a kind of pen to fatten for the cannibal festival. Valdivia and four others were taken first, and the horror produced on their comrades led them to risk everything and break out of their prison in the night. Having succeeded in reaching the forest, they were almost as badly off, for no food could be had, and they dared not run the risk of going near the villages. Almost perishing with hunger, they at last reached another part of the country, to be again captured, and kept as slaves. Finally they all died except two, one of whom at last escaped to tell the tale almost by a miracle.

One of the stories is suggestive of "Robinson Crusoe." In 1499 Niño and Guerra sailed from Spain in a bark of fifty tons, and, while exploring the Gulf of Paria, came across eighteen Carib canoes filled with armed men. The savages assailed them with flights of arrows, but the sudden boom of the cannon frightened them away at once. One canoe, however, was captured, in which they took a Carib prisoner, and found an Arawak captive lying bound at the bottom. On being liberated, the Arawak informed the Spaniards, through their interpreter, that he was the last of seven who had been taken by the cannibals. The other six had been killed and eaten one after another, and he had been reserved for the next evening meal. The Spaniards, incensed against the man-eater, gave him into the hands of the Arawak, at the same time handing him a cudgel, leaving his enemy unarmed. Immediately the Arawak sprang upon him, knocked him sprawling, trod his breath out of his body, and at the same time beat him with his fist until nothing but a shapeless corpse remained. But, not yet satisfied, he tore the head off and stuck it on a pole as a trophy.

After the conquest of Mexico and Peru had rewarded Cortez and Pizarro, others wished to be equally fortunate. From the Indians came reports of golden countries in the interior, and land expeditions were projected. These reports grew into shape, and at last a quest as romantic as that for the Holy Grail, led one adventurer after another on and on, to starvation, sickness, and death.

The germ of the story of "El Dorado," the lake of golden sands, and the glittering city of Manoa, appears to have first arisen in New Granada. Here was the Lake of Guatavita, and before the arrival of the Spaniards this was the scene of an annual religious festival. To the genius of the lake the Cacique of the neighbouring district offered a holy sacrifice on a certain day. In the morning he anointed his body with balsam, and then rolled himself in gold dust until he became a "gilded king." Then, embarking in a canoe with his nobles, he was paddled to the centre of the lake, crowds of people thronging its shores and honouring him with songs and the din of rude instrumental music. Offerings to the god of the lake were made from the canoe, gold, emeralds, pearls, and everything precious being scattered upon the water. Finally, the Cacique jumped in himself and washed the gold from his body, while the people shouted for joy. To wind up the festival a great drinking bout was held, when canoesful of piwarree, the Indian's beer, were drunk, and every one made merry.

Such was the tradition—for the ceremony had been discontinued half a century before—which had so impressed itself over the northern shores of South America, as to be told from the Amazon to the isthmus of Darien. "El Dorado" was gilded every morning, and his city was full of beautiful golden palaces. It stood on the edge of the great salt lake Parima, the sands of which were composed of the precious metal. Some went so far as to say that they had seen the glittering city from a distance, and were only prevented from reaching it by the peculiar difficulties of the way. Not to mention tigers and alligators, starvation and sickness, there were "anthropophagoi and men whose heads do grow beneath their shoulders," besides amazons and fiery dragons. Wherever the story was told the golden city was located at a far distance, and it seemed ever to recede before the eager seekers. They sought it in the forest and on the savannah, over the lofty peaks of the Andes, and along the banks of the mighty rivers. The whole of the Spanish Main was explored, and places then visited which have hardly been seen again by the white man down to the present date.

The quest began in New Granada, and from thence it shifted to Venezuela. The most daring seekers were German knights, the Welsers of Augsburg. They had received charters from Charles the Fifth, under which they were empowered to found cities, erect forts, work mines, and make slaves of the Indians. One of their representatives, Ambrosio de Alfinger, set out in 1530, accompanied by two hundred Spaniards, and a larger number of Indians, laden with provisions and other necessaries. On the journey the party committed such brutalities upon the poor natives that the reports afterwards helped to fire the blood of Englishmen, and make them bitterly cruel. To prevent the bearers from running away they were strung together on chains, running through rings round their necks. If one of them dropped from sickness or exhaustion, his head was cut off, the ring loosened, and thus the trouble of interfering with the chain saved. If he were to be left behind, it did not matter whether he was alive or dead. At one place on the river Magdalena the frightened natives took refuge on some islands, but the Spaniards swam their horses across and killed or took prisoners the whole of them. From their Cacique Alfinger got booty to the value of sixty thousand dollars, with which he sent back for further supplies. But, although he waited for a year his messengers did not return, and the company were reduced to such straits that many died for want of bare food. But the Indians fared much worse, for their provision grounds were utterly destroyed, and what with murders and starvation the surrounding country was quite depopulated and desolate.

Even Alfinger had to give up waiting for his supplies and move on at last, for these had been utilised by his lieutenant on an expedition of his own. The party eked out a bare subsistence with wild fruits and game. If they found a village they plundered it of everything it contained, dug up the provisions from the fields, and left the survivors of the massacre to starve. Not that they themselves were in a much better plight; fever, the result of want and exposure, carried them off in continually increasing numbers. At last they got into a mountain region, and the poor naked bearers were frozen to death. Descending again they encountered stronger and fiercer tribes, by whom they were defeated, the cruel Alfinger himself dying two days afterwards from his wounds. A small remnant only returned after two years' absence, leaving a track of pain and suffering to make their memory accursed for many generations.

George of Spires now fitted out a great expedition of three hundred infantry and two hundred cavalry, which started in 1536. They also went a long distance into the interior, braving hardships and dangers almost incredible. Jaguars carried off their horses, and even went so far as to attack and kill several of the Indian bearers and one Spaniard. Like their predecessors, they also encountered savage Indians, and died of starvation and sickness. After journeying fifteen hundred miles from the coast they had to return unsuccessful; but as their leader was less cruel than Alfinger, the losses of the party were not so great. Instead of dying on the journey he lived to become Governor of Venezuela.

Nicholas Fedreman followed the last party with supplies, but took them to go treasure-seeking on his own account. He wandered about for three years, and at last returned with some wonderful stories which induced others to continue the search. Herman de Quesada also travelled about for a year, and returned like his predecessors. Then Philip von Huten, who had gone already with George of Spires, fitted out a great expedition. His party was at one time so utterly famished that they had to eat ants, which they captured by placing corn cobs near the nests of these little creatures. They travelled in a great circle without knowing where they went, and at the end of a year came back to the place from whence they had started. Hearing, however, of a rich city called Macatoa, Von Huten started again, and found streets of houses with about eight hundred inhabitants, but no treasure. The people here sent him on farther, with their tales of the Omaguas, a warlike people living away in the south. On he went for five days, and at last came upon what he thought must be the golden city. It stretched away as far as the eye could reach, and in the centre was a great temple. But, although the little party charged gallantly down a hill and into the town, the Omaguas came out in such force that they had to retreat, bearing their wounded leader in a hammock. Continually harassed by Indians, they at last got back, to tell such stories of the dangers of the quest that the Omaguas seem to have been afterwards left alone.

Our account of the search for "El Dorado" is necessarily short and imperfect, as it would be impossible even to enumerate all the expeditions. There is one, however, that was so tragic and awful, that, although it was fitted out in Peru, it must yet be mentioned in the story of the Spanish Main.

"EL DORADO."
(From Gottfried's "Reisen.")

Notwithstanding the enormous quantities of gold and silver found in Peru, the crowds of needy treasure-seekers who went to that country gave some trouble to the Viceroy, who appears to have been willing to get rid of them at any cost. Whether he purposely sent them on a "wild goose chase," or whether he really believed the "El Dorado" story, is doubtful, but it is certain that he thought it prudent to give them employment in some way, to prevent mischief in his province.

The expedition was put in command of Pedro de Ursua, and was intended to go down the Amazon in search of treasure cities. Embarking on the river Huallaga, in the year 1560, they had hardly passed the mouth of Ucayali before Ursua found he had a most unprincipled gang of scoundrels under his command. A little farther down the river they mutinied, under the leadership of Lope de Aguirre, and murdered Ursua and his lieutenant, appointing Guzman as captain. Being dissatisfied, however, with their new commander, they also killed him a little later, together with most of his adherents.

Now Aguirre became leader—a ruffian whose character was of the blackest. Father Pedro Simon delineates his features and character, making him out to be a very devil. He was about fifty years of age, short of stature and sparsely built, ill-featured, his face small and lean, his beard black, and his eyes as piercing as those of a hawk. When he looked at any one he fixed his gaze sternly, particularly when annoyed; he was a noisy talker and boaster, and when well supported very bold and determined, but otherwise a coward. Of a very hardy constitution, he could bear much fatigue, either on foot or horseback. He was never without one or two coats of mail or a steel breastplate, and always carried a sword, dagger, arquebuse, or lance. His sleep was mostly taken in the day, as he was afraid to rest at night, although he never took off his armour altogether nor put away his weapons. Simon said he had always been of a turbulent disposition; a lover of revolts and mutinies; an enemy to all good men and good actions.

Such was the Tyrant or Traitor Aguirre—virtually a madman—who now became the leader of a band of wretches like-minded to himself. They journeyed down the mighty river, now and again murdering one or another of the party, on the least suspicion of their dislike to their proceedings, and ill-treating the natives everywhere.

Aguirre was not ashamed to boast that he had murdered a woman—not an Indian, but a beautiful Spanish lady, who had accompanied her lover on this arduous journey. Donna Inez de Altienza, a young widow, fell passionately in love with Ursua, who was brave, generous, and handsome; and loath to part with him, she undertook the hitherto unheard-of journey of thousands of miles in a strange and savage country. No fears or terrors daunted this devoted woman until after the death of her lover. Aguirre then picked a quarrel on the ground that her mattress was too large for the boat, and she also was murdered. The Spanish poet, Castellanos, thus laments the cruel deed:—

"The birds mourned on the trees;
The wild beasts of the forest lamented;
The waters ceased to murmur;
The fishes beneath the waters groaned;
The winds execrated the deed
When Llamoso cut the veins of her white neck.
Wretch! wert thou born of woman?
No! what beast could have such a wicked son?
How was it that thou didst not die
In imagining a treason so enormous?
Her two women, 'midst lamentation and grief,
Gathered flowers to cover her grave,
And cut her epitaph in the bark of a tree—
'These flowers cover one whose faithfulness
And beauty were unequalled,
Whom cruel men slew without a cause.'"

Whether Aguirre reached the mouth of the Amazon is doubtful—the evidence is in favour of his getting out of that river into the Rio Negro, and from thence into the Orinoco. However this may have been, he arrived at last in the Gulf of Paria and proceeded to the island of Margarita. Here, true to his character, he and his men commenced to plunder and kill the inhabitants, going so far as to defy the local authorities and even the king of Spain himself. To even enumerate the deeds of this band of outlaws would fill a chapter, but we cannot omit giving an extract from Aguirre's letter to his king, one of the most curious productions ever written:—

"I firmly believe that thou, O Christian king and lord, hast been very cruel and ungrateful to me and my companions for such good service, and that all those who write to thee from this land deceive thee much, because thou seest things from too far off. I and my companions, no longer able to suffer the cruelties which thy judges and governors exercise in thy name, are resolved to obey thee no longer.... Hear me! O hear me! thou king of Spain. Be not cruel to thy vassals.... Remember, King Philip, that thou hast no right to draw revenues from these provinces, since their conquest has been without danger to thee. I take it for certain that few kings go to hell, only because they are few in number; if they were many, none of them would go to heaven. For I believe that you are all worse than Lucifer, and that you hunger and thirst after human blood; and further, I think little of you and despise you all; nor do I look upon your government as more than an air bubble....

"In the year 1559 the Marquis of Canete entrusted the expedition of the river of Amazons to Pedro de Ursua, a Navarrese, or, rather, a Frenchman, who delayed the building of his vessels till 1560. These vessels were built in the province of the Motilones, which is a wet country, and, as they were built in the rainy season, they came to pieces, and we therefore made canoes and descended the river. We navigated the most powerful river in Peru, and it seemed to us that we were in a sea of fresh water. We descended the river for three hundred leagues. This bad governor was capricious, vain, and inefficient, so that we could not suffer it, and we gave him a quick and certain death. We then raised Don Fernando de Guzman to be our king.... Because I did not consent to their evil deeds they desired to murder me. I therefore killed the new king, the captain of his guard, his lieutenant-general, four captains, his major-domo, his chaplain who said mass, a woman, a knight of the Order of Rhodes, an admiral, two ensigns, and five or six of his servants. I named captains and sergeants, but these men also wanted to kill me, and I hanged them. We continued our course while this evil fortune was befalling us, and it was eleven months and a half before we reached the mouths of the river, having travelled for more than a hundred days over more than fifteen hundred leagues. This river has a course of two thousand leagues of fresh water, the greater part of the shores being uninhabited, and God only knows how we ever escaped out of that fearful lake. I advise thee not to send any Spanish fleet up this ill-omened river, for, on the faith of a Christian, I swear to thee, O king and lord, that if a hundred thousand men should go up, not one would escape....

"We shall give God thanks if, by our arms, we attain the rewards which are due to us, but which thou hast denied us; and because of thine ingratitude I am a rebel against thee until death."

He and his band of outlaws ravaged the settlements of Venezuela for some time, until at last, on a promise of pardon, all left him save Llamoso, the murderer of Lady Inez. Aguirre had a daughter, a girl of twelve to fourteen, and when he found that all was lost he resolved to kill her. They were living at a country house, and when Llamoso brought the news of the desertion of his men, he snatched up a loaded arquebuse and rushed into his child's room, saying, "Commend thyself to God, my daughter, for I am about to kill thee, that thou mayest not be pointed at with scorn, nor that it be in the power of any one to call thee the daughter of a traitor." A woman snatched the weapon from his hand, but, drawing his poniard, he stabbed the girl in the breast, saying, "Die! because I must die!" Rushing then to the door, he found the house surrounded by Spanish soldiers, who compelled him to surrender, and almost immediately took him out to be shot.

This put an end to treasure-seeking on the Amazon, but the search for "El Dorado" had been going on and was still continued along the banks of the Orinoco. The first attempt to reach the golden city by this river appears to have been made by Pedro de Acosta about the year 1530, but after most of his men had been killed and eaten by the cannibals, he was compelled to abandon his project. After him came Diego de Ordas, the following year, whose expedition became afterwards famous. He, however, found nothing himself, although he went as far as the mouth of the Caroni—it was from one of his men that the "El Dorado" story was gleaned. By some accident the whole of the gunpowder was exploded, and this being attributed to the negligence of the munitioner, Juan Martinez, he was sentenced to be put in a canoe, without paddles or food, and allowed to drift at the mercy of the current.

What became of the culprit was not known, but some months afterwards a strange white man was brought by some Indians to Margarita. He was wasted by sickness, naked, and apparently destitute, but, through the kindness of a ship-captain, he got a passage to Porto Rico, and was there placed in a religious house, under the care of some Dominican friars. Here he became worse, but when on the point of death he presented his friends with two gourdsful of gold beads to pay for the repose of his soul; he also declared himself to be Juan Martinez, and told the wonderful story of his adventures.

After being cast adrift, the canoe floated down the stream until evening, when it attracted the attention of some Indians, who paddled out from the shore and rescued Martinez from his perilous situation. These were Guianians, who had never before seen a white man, and therefore resolved to take him to their king as a curiosity. He was, however, blind-folded to prevent his seeing the direction they were taking, and led on and on, through forest and over mountain, for fifteen days, until a great city was reached. Arriving here at noon, his bandage was taken off, and Martinez feasted his eyes upon a great plain covered with houses, the roofs of which glittered in the sun as if made of gold. As far as his eye could reach stretched this marvellous assemblage of palaces. In the centre dwelt the great king, but, although the party travelled the whole of that and the next day, they did not reach the palace until evening.

Here Martinez was well treated, and allowed to walk about the city, but not beyond it. He remained for seven months, saw the great lake on the shore of which the city of Manoa stood, and handled its golden sands. However, he was not content to remain, and after repeated petitions to be allowed to depart, was at last furnished with guides and as much gold as they could carry. Arrived at the Orinoco, the cannibals fell upon the party, stole all the treasure save that hidden under some provisions in the two gourds, and left them destitute. After enduring many privations Martinez, however, got a passage in an Indian canoe to Margarita, from whence he expected to go to Spain and report his discovery to the king.

What amount of truth, if any at all, was contained in the story is doubtful. It does not appear to have been told at once, but gradually leaked out, becoming more marvellous as it spread over the West Indies. Adventurers flocked to the Orinoco, and at least a score of expeditions went in search of "El Dorado." Under the command of bold adventurers one party after another entered into the forest, some never to return or to be heard of again. The remnant sometimes came back starving, and broken down with sickness. We read of one Juan Corteso that he marched into the country, but neither he nor any of his company did return again. Gaspar de Sylva and his two brothers sought El Dorado, but fell down to Trinidad, where all three were buried. Jeronimo Ortal, after great travail and spending all his substance, died on a sudden at St. Domingo. Father Iala, a friar, with only one companion and some Indian guides, returned with gold eagles, idols, and other jewels, but when he essayed to pass a second time was slain by Indians. Alonzo de Herera endured great misery, but never entered one league into the country; he also was at last slain by Indians. Antonio Sedenno got much gold and many Indian prisoners, whom he manacled in irons, and of whom many died on the way. The tigers being fleshed with the dead carcases assaulted the Spaniards, who with much trouble hardly defended themselves from them. Sedenno was buried within the precincts of the empire of the gilded king, and most of his people perished likewise. Augustine Delgado came to an Indian Cacique, who entertained him with kindness and gave him rich jewels, six seemly pages, ten young slaves, and three nymphs very beautiful. To requite these manifold courtesies he took all the gold he could get and all the Indians he could lay hold on, to sell for slaves. He was afterwards shot in the eye by an Indian, of which hurt he died.

And so we might go on to tell of the thousands of people murdered and tens of thousands carried off as slaves; Every gold ornament was stolen, provision grounds destroyed, and the forest tracks strewn with the corpses of those who had been massacred, and marked out by the graves of their murderers. Sometimes treasure and slaves were recaptured and no one left to tell the tale, but more often a few escaped to fight over the booty and perhaps be hanged as mutineers on their return.

The men of that age were undoubtedly great—great warriors, great ruffians, great villains. Only here and there can we distinguish a good man like Las Casas, who did his very best for the Indians against the opposition of the settlers and the lukewarmness of the Spanish Court. He was horrified at the atrocities in the Indies, but the kings wanted their tithes and cared little how they were obtained. "Get it honestly if you can, but get it," seems to have been their motto, and it was not for many years that anything like humanity was shown, and then only by a few priests.

III

"SINGEING THE SPANIARD'S BEARD"

On the discovery of the Indies, Ferdinand and Isabella at once applied to Pope Alexander the Sixth to secure the rights of Spain in the new countries against every other nation, but more especially against Portugal. Accordingly, the celebrated "Bull of partition" was issued on the 4th of May, 1493, giving, conceding, and assigning for ever, to them and their successors, all the islands and mainlands already found or that might be discovered in future, to the west of a line, stretching from the north to the south poles, a hundred leagues from the Azores or Cape de Verde Islands, provided they were not in the possession of any other Christian prince. The sovereigns were commanded to appoint upright, God-fearing, skilful, and learned men to instruct the inhabitants in the Catholic faith, and all unauthorised persons were forbidden to traffic on or even approach the territories. If they did so they would incur the indignation of Almighty God and of the blessed Apostles Peter and Paul.

Such was the gist of the document under which the enormities mentioned in the preceding chapters were committed. Portugal, except for some disputes about Brazil, accepted this arrangement, but the other great nations of Europe, especially England, disputed it from the very beginning. Nevertheless, the governments, as long as they were at peace with Spain, took no active part in the matter, but left the work to individuals, even going so far in some instances as to disclaim their responsibility for piracies committed beyond the seas.

English and French seamen, hearing of the treasure continually imported into Spain, soon found their way to the new world, and as early as the year 1526 precautions had to be taken against them. Orders were sent to build castles on the coasts and strong houses, not only for defence against the cannibals, who continued to ravage the larger islands, but to protect the settlements from French corsairs who had already commenced their depredations. The tract of the Spanish fleets led them first to St. Domingo, and thence on to the isthmus of Darien or Panama, where at first the chief port was Nombre de Dios. At these two points it was of great importance that fortifications should be erected, and this was done in the first half of the sixteenth century.

An English merchant named Thomas Tison seems to have been the first of our nation who went to the West Indies, but he got his goods sent from Bristol to Spain. In 1527 King Henry VIII. fitted out the Dominus Vobiscum and another vessel for those parts, but little is known of their course. It was, however, reported that they went to Porto Rico, and got there a cargo of brazil wood, and then proceeded to St. Domingo, where permission was asked to trade. After waiting for the license two days the Spanish batteries fired upon them, driving them off to go back to Porto Rico, where the inhabitants were more friendly.

From this time the corsairs and rovers became more numerous and audacious every year. Some went trading among the Indians of the mainland, others, more bold, forced their goods upon the Spanish settlements under threats of pillage. In 1536 the inhabitants of Havana paid seven hundred ducats to a French corsair to save the city, and because later the pirate was chased by three Spanish vessels, which he captured, he returned and exacted a second ransom.

In 1538 there was a gallant fight in the harbour of Santiago de Cuba, between a Spaniard and a French corsair. The two vessels fought with each other the first day until sunset, when a truce was agreed to, and civilities exchanged between the captains. They sent each other presents of wine and fruit, were very friendly, and mutually agreed to fight only by day with swords and lances. Artillery, they agreed, was an invention of cowards—they would show their valour, and the one who conquered should have the other's vessel. The second day they fought again until evening without either being conquered, and again they exchanged courtesies. That night, however, the Spanish captain, Diego Perez, sent to the people of the city asking if they would compensate him for the loss of his ship if the corsair got the better of him; if they agreed to do this he would risk his life in their service. Were he not poor and without any other property, he would not have asked them, and as they would be gainers by his victory, he did not think his request at all extravagant. But the authorities refused to pledge themselves to anything, leaving Perez to fight for his own honour, life, and property. The battle continued the whole of the third day, each giving the other time for rest and refreshment, yet neither was conquered, although many had fallen on both sides. After similar courtesies the fight went on next morning, and when evening came the Frenchman promised to continue it next morning. Feeling, however, that the Spaniard was likely to get the better of him, he slipped his cable in the night and made off, leaving Perez to grieve at the drawn battle.

The same year Havana was sacked and burnt, and three years later both English and French did great injury to the Spanish trade. Even Portugal did not escape, but when complaints were sent to the king of France, he said he intended to follow those conquests and navigations which by right belonged to him. In 1545 five French vessels captured the pearl-fishing fleet near the Main, which the owners were compelled to ransom; at the same time they were forced to buy seventy negroes from the captors. The Frenchmen then took Santa Martha and got a thousand ducats as ransom.

One raid after another took place until the Spaniards were at their wits' ends. Forts were built, guarda-costas stationed, and other precautions taken, but the depredations and forced traffic still continued. They cruelly punished all who fell into their hands, and this led to retaliation, not only for their own injuries, but to avenge the slaughter of the innocent natives.

About the year 1530 Master William Hawkins made three long and famous voyages in the ship Paul. Hakluyt said he went to Brazil—a thing very rare in those days to our English nation. He became so friendly with the Indians that one of their kings came to England in his vessel, and was exhibited to King Henry, who marvelled to see this savage representative of royalty. Unfortunately the poor fellow died on the return voyage, which made Hawkins fear for the white hostage he had left behind. However, his explanation was accepted, and his man given back unharmed—a result all the more pleasing, as he knew so little of the language, and might easily have been misunderstood.

This is an example of the good feeling of these people towards Englishmen and all who treated them fairly. Even the cannibals became more gentle under good treatment, and would allow the enemies of Spain to land on their shores without opposition. By this time the natives of the Greater Antilles were gone, and with them the thousands of captives from the mainland. Then began the importation of negroes, first from Spain, where the Portuguese had sold a fair number during the previous century, and then from Africa. Spain could not send and fetch the negroes on account of the Papal Bull, which reserved the savage countries east of the line to Portugal. It followed, therefore, that, as Spain claimed the Indies, so her sister country claimed the whole of Africa—a claim as little respected by other nations as that of her neighbour.

NEGRO WOMAN RETURNING FROM MARKET.

Hearing that there was a good market for negroes in the West, Captain (afterwards Sir) John Hawkins, in 1563, got up an expedition to supply this demand. With three vessels of 120, 100, and 40 tons respectively, he sailed to Sierra Leone, and partly by the sword and partly by other means, got three hundred slaves, whom he carried to Hispaniola. Here he had a reasonable sale, probably forced, for he trusted the Spaniards no farther than he thought prudent, considering his strength. His returns were so good, however, that he not only loaded his own vessels with hides, ginger, sugar, and some pearls, but also freighted two hulks to send to Spain.

NEGRO BARBER

NEGRO FAMILY ON HOLIDAY.

This success induced him to make another venture on a larger scale with the Jesus of Lubeck, of 700, and three other vessels of 140, 50, and 30 tons. He sailed for Africa in October, 1564, to kidnap slaves, yet all the time he was very religious in a way. His orders concluded with the commands to "serve God daily; love one another; preserve your victuals; beware of fire; and keep good company"—i.e., do not stray from others of the fleet. At several places he took negroes by force, losing a few of his men in the fights, and with a good number set off for the West Indies. Fortunately, he said, although they were in great danger from a gale on this voyage, they arrived without many deaths of either the negroes or themselves. For "the Almighty God, who never suffereth His elect to perish, sent us, on the 16th of February (1565), the ordinary breeze."

NEGRESSES GOSSIPING.

The first land they sighted was Dominica, where they watered, and then went on to Margarita, the Governor of which island refused them permission to trade. They then tried several other places, including Hispaniola and Cumaná, but also without success. At Barbarota they forced the people to traffic, and here they were joined by Captain Bontemps, a French corsair, with whom they went to Curaçao, and forced a hundred slaves upon the inhabitants. Finally they went to Rio de la Hacha and defeated a body of Spanish troops, after which the remainder of Hawkins' cargo was freely sold.

In his third voyage, on which he started in October, 1567, Hawkins was accompanied by Francis Drake and several other gentlemen adventurers. He took a similar course to that of his former voyages, joined some African chiefs in storming a town, and received, as his share of the booty, five hundred prisoners, with whom he again sailed for the Indies. The alarmed Spaniards dared not refuse to trade, and consequently he soon sold his negroes at a good profit. On his return, however, he was caught in a storm near the coast of Florida and had to take shelter in the harbour of Vera Cruz, where at first his vessels were taken for a Spanish fleet then daily expected. Under this mistake several influential persons came on board, two of whom were retained as hostages.

Next day the Spanish fleet, consisting of thirteen sail, arrived, and on board one of them was the new Viceroy of Mexico. From this high authority Hawkins got permission to repair his ships, victual, and refit, provided the English kept themselves to a small island in the harbour, for the due performance of which they gave twelve hostages.

But the Spaniards were not prepared to let their enemies off so easily, and made preparations for a surprise. Hawkins, becoming suspicious, sent to inquire about certain shady transactions, and was at once attacked by something like a thousand men. The Spaniards sunk three of his vessels, seriously damaged the fourth, and left him with only one leaky ship in which to find his way home. A great number of his men were killed and others captured, the prisoners to be taken to Mexico and there cruelly used. Two of them—Miles Philips and Job Hortop—managed to escape and return to England, where they gave long accounts of their sufferings, the latter comparing himself to his namesake the patriarch. As for Hawkins, in speaking of his return voyage, he said, that "if all the miserable and troublesome affairs of this sorrowful voyage should be perfectly and thoroughly written, there should need a painful man with his pen, and as great a time as he had that wrote the lives and deaths of the martyrs."

This disaster put an end to Hawkins' slave-trading, but made no impression on the other adventurers to the Indies. Francis Drake now took up the quarrel, and in the year 1572 "singed the Spaniard's beard" to some purpose. Knowing already something of the state of affairs near the isthmus, he resolved to gain his spurs in that direction. He cared not for a forced trade in negroes, but virtually went in for piracy, for although the relations of the mother countries were at that time somewhat strained, war had not yet been declared.

Drake sailed straight for Nombre de Dios, the treasure port, arrived suddenly before the inhabitants had any warning, and landed a hundred and fifty men in the night. Suddenly the town was roused to the fact that the enemy were in possession, and as the people ran off to the forest, they asked each other what was the matter. Unfortunately for Drake, however, through a misunderstanding, the English were alarmed and took to their vessels, so that all the advantage of the surprise was lost. Undaunted by this failure, he determined to attempt something even more audacious—the capture of the Panama train.

We have already seen that African slaves had been imported in considerable numbers; we have now to mention that on the continent they often escaped into the forest. Here they lived like the Indians, and were often in friendship with them, going under the name of Simerons, or afterwards Maroons. Always at enmity with the masters whom they had deserted, they were a terror to the settlers on account of their continual raids on the plantations.

Drake determined to get the assistance of these people, which was freely given, and he was enabled to traverse the pathless forest and to lie in wait for the train of mules carrying gold and silver from Panama to Nombre de Dios. This he captured, but, on account of the difficulties of the way, was obliged to leave the silver behind, and content himself with the gold. Then he attacked some merchants, burnt their goods to the value of two hundred thousand ducats, and got safely back to his ships just as the dilatory Spaniards sent out three hundred men for his capture. It was on this excursion that he saw the Great South Sea, and determined to carry English ships into that immense Spanish preserve. How he carried out his resolve, and appeared suddenly off the Peruvian coast five years later, is a story we must leave, as it belongs to another part of the new world.

When Drake returned to Plymouth the news of his adventures, and the more substantial evidence of the gold he had brought, roused others to follow his example. Among them was one John Oxnam, or Oxenham, who has been immortalised by Kingsley in "Westward Ho!" Arriving at the isthmus in 1575, in a vessel of 140 tons, he went to an out-of-the-way river, and hid his bark among the great trees. Landing with his seventy men, he went in search of the Simerons, who took him to a river which flowed into the South Sea, where a pinnace was built. In this the English pulled down to the Pacific, with the intention of capturing one of the treasure ships coming to Panama. They succeeded so far as to get sixty thousand dollars in gold from one bark, and a hundred thousand from another. Not yet satisfied, they went to the Pearl Islands, attacked the negro divers, and took a few pearls, with which they at last returned up the river.

Unfortunately for Oxenham the negroes of the Pearl Islands carried the news of his presence to Panama, and in two days four boats with a hundred men were sent in pursuit. They found the two barks, which had been released, and from their captains learnt where the Englishmen had gone. Following up the river they were at a loss when they came to three branches, but spying some freshly plucked feathers floating down one of the streams, they followed that until they came upon the pinnace. Six men were on guard, one of whom was killed, but the other five escaped and gave the alarm to their comrades. Pursuing their track through the forest the Spaniards found the store of treasure hidden away under boughs of trees. With this they would have gone back had not Oxenham attacked them with two hundred Simerons before they reached their boats. Being more skilful in bush fighting than the English, the Spaniards repulsed the party, killing eleven and taking seven prisoners, from whom they learnt that the delay was caused by the difficulty of transporting the treasure.

Now the news was sent to Nombre de Dios, and the authorities there found the English vessel and brought her away, thus cutting off the means of escape for those still lurking in the forest. Then an expedition was sent in search of them, and they were found building canoes. Some were sick and could make no resistance, the others fled and took refuge with the negroes, by whom they were ultimately betrayed and taken to Panama. Here Oxenham was interrogated as to his authority for the raid, and was obliged to admit that he had not his Queen's license. All except five boys were executed, the men at once, and the officers a little while afterwards at Lima.

Thus ended one of the most audacious attacks on the Spaniards which only failed through a little want of calculation. Hakluyt, who wrote the account, said the enemy marvelled much to see that although many Frenchmen had come to these countries, yet never one durst put foot upon land; only Drake and Oxenham performed such exploits. When the news reached Spain the king was so alarmed that he sent out two galleys to guard the coast, which in the first year after their arrival took six or seven French vessels, and put a stop to their piracies for a time.

There was another class of raids in the Indies, of which that of Andrew Barker, of Bristol, was an example. He, and one Captain Roberts, going to trade in the Canary Islands, had their goods confiscated, and were put in prison, from which Roberts escaped and Barker was ultimately discharged. To recoup his losses and revenge himself, Barker fitted out several vessels in 1576, in which he went trading to the Main, and afterwards committed acts of piracy. He took a small vessel off Margarita and a frigate near Carthagena, from which he got five hundred pounds' weight of gold and some emeralds. Now, following the example of Drake, he landed on the isthmus to get help from the Simerons, but could find none. Then, from the unhealthiness of the climate, most of his men fell sick, and eight or nine died, which made him give up this part of his project. Embarking again he took another Spanish vessel with some gold, but after that the party got into difficulties. Barker quarrelled with his ship-master, and one of the vessels became so leaky that they had to let her sink, first removing the cargo into the last Spanish prize. They, however, captured another vessel with a hundred pounds of silver and some provisions, but after that the crews mutinied and put Barker ashore with some others, where they were attacked by Spaniards, and nine, including the captain, killed. The mutineers then went on to Truxillo, which they surprised, but could find no treasure, and were soon driven to flight by a Spanish vessel. On their way home the Spanish vessel sunk, carrying down two thousand pounds' worth of their booty, and on their arrival at Plymouth they were imprisoned as accessories to their captain's death. Although none were executed, yet, says the worthy Hakluyt, "they could not avoid the heavy judgment of God, but shortly after came to miserable ends."

Open war soon came, and culminated in the invasion of England by the "Invincible Armada" of 1588. No longer could there be any question of the Queen's license, and in 1585 Drake, now Sir Francis, fitted out a great fleet to cripple the power of Spain in the Indies. The Spanish authorities were no longer unprepared, but ready to give him a warm reception all along his expected course. The fleet consisted of twenty-five vessels, with two thousand three hundred men, among whom could be found many whose names are famous in the annals of Queen Elizabeth. At the Cape de Verde Islands they burnt the town of Santiago in revenge for the murder of a boy, and after this baptism of fire, proceeded to the island of St. Christopher's, where they landed the sick, cleaned their vessels, and spent Christmas. Leaving at the end of December, on the 1st of January, 1586, they arrived off Hispaniola with the intention of attacking St. Domingo. The English landed about ten miles distant from that city, marched upon the Spaniards unawares, and took it by surprise, notwithstanding every preparation that had been made, and the careful watch for enemies from the sea.

Drake demanded a large ransom, and because it was not paid at once, commenced to demolish the buildings, which brought the inhabitants to their senses and made them offer the sum of 25,000 ducats (about £7,000), which he accepted. From thence the fleet sailed to Carthagena, where no opposition was made until the troops landed, when a great struggle took place in the streets. The Spaniards had erected barricades, behind which they succeeded in doing some execution, but only delayed the surrender for a short time. After a portion of the town had been burnt, 110,000 ducats were paid as ransom for the remainder, and after a few less brilliant exploits, the fleet went back to England, being thus hurried on account of sickness among the men. Otherwise, Drake had intended to capture Nombre de Dios and Panama, but from this disability had to be content with booty to the amount of £60,000, which would mean something like a quarter of a million at the present value of money. He arrived in time to help in repelling the Armada, and this invasion kept most of the English about their own shores for a year or two.

In 1595, when there were no longer any fears of a Spanish landing, Drake determined on another voyage, and this time with Sir John Hawkins. Getting together six of the Queen's ships and twenty-one other vessels, they arrived safely at the Caribbee Islands, where Hawkins became sick and died. Drake then went on to Porto Rico and attacked the capital, but could do nothing more than capture a few vessels from under the guns of the forts. Going to the Main he captured Rio de la Hacha and a fishing village named Rancheria. These he held for ransom, but was dissatisfied with the number of pearls offered by private persons, the Governor refusing to give anything, and burnt both town and village. Santa Martha was also taken, and then Nombre de Dios, but he found that the treasure had been removed, the inhabitants taking to the forest when they heard his fearful name. Sir Thomas Baskerville took seven hundred and fifty men to go over to Panama, but returned much discouraged by the difficulties of the road. Drake finally burnt Nombre de Dios and every vessel in the harbour down to the smallest boats.

After that, sickness began to tell upon the expedition, and Drake himself was stricken with dysentery. When on the point of death he rose from his bed, put on his full dress of admiral, called his men and gave them a farewell address, then, sinking down exhausted he died immediately afterwards. Several captains and other important officers also died, and they even lost the chief surgeon; after that, nothing was left but to return home. Off Cuba they were attacked by a Spanish fleet of twenty vessels, sent out to intercept them, with which they kept up a running fight until the enemy were left behind.

On their arrival in England in May, 1596, the sad news of the death of Drake overshadowed all the glory of the expedition. In Spain, however, it was published for general information, and the people congratulated each other that at last their enemy was gone. Henry Savile, in his "Libel of Spanish Lies," said "it did ease the stomachs of the timorous Spaniards greatly to hear of the death of him whose life was a scourge and a continual plague to them." No wonder that the news was so grateful, for none was so daring, and no name like that of Drake ever came to be used as a bogey with which to frighten their children.

Yet there were many gallant adventurers in the Indies at that very time. Sir Robert Dudley and Sir Walter Ralegh were both at Trinidad in 1595, and for several years before and after the English rovers were plentiful in the Gulf of Mexico. In 1591 the Content was successfully defended against six Spanish men-of-war, and the galleons were obliged to sail in large squadrons. What with the dangers of storms and the enemy, it was stated that of a hundred and twenty-three vessels expected in Spain during that year, only twenty-five arrived safe.

The number of rovers became at last so great that plunder was difficult to obtain. The Spanish settlers were in continual fear, and naturally took every precaution against their enemies, hiding the treasure on the least alarm, and taking to the forest. The French corsairs were not far behind the English, although as yet they had no proper licenses, and only fought for their own hands. Latterly, also, the Dutch and Flemings had arrived, and although mainly occupied in trading, they did not hesitate to fight on occasion, especially when attempts were made to prevent their traffic. While under the rule of Charles the Fifth they had been free to go to and from the Indies, and no doubt use the knowledge thus gained to further their own interests since their revolt. Like the English, they were at enmity with Spain, but there was also another bond of union—both were Protestant. Queen Elizabeth assisted Holland in gaining her independence, and therefore at this period the relations between English and Dutch were very cordial. But the fellow-feeling of enmity to Spain made even the French corsair unite with the two others, so that pirates, privateers, and traders all combined against the common foe.

IV

RALEGH AND THE FIRST BRITISH COLONIES

The first grant made by Queen Elizabeth for a settlement in America was given to Sir Humphrey Gilbert in 1578, but the father of English colonisation was Sir Walter Ralegh. Although considered a rover, or pirate, by the Spaniards, he was of a different type to Drake, Hawkins, and the other adventurers of the sixteenth century. Not only was he famous as a brave warrior, but at the same time as one of the most learned men of his time; as enterprising in the arts of peace as on the battlefield.

The "Letters Patent" to Walter Ralegh, Esquire, dated the 25th of March, 1584, may be considered as the first charter of the English colonies. Under them he was empowered to discover, occupy, and possess barbarous countries not actually in the possession of any Christian prince, or inhabited by Christian people, on condition that he reserved to Her Majesty a fifth of all the gold and silver found therein. He was also given all the rights of civil and criminal jurisdiction, and empowered to govern and make laws as long as these laws did not conflict with those of the mother country, or with the true Christian faith of the Church of England. Under this charter the first settlement in Virginia was undertaken, and thus England threw down the gauntlet in the face of Spain.

However, Ralegh did not confine himself to North America—there were other countries not in the actual possession of any Christian prince, the most notable being Guiana. Ralegh had heard the story of "El Dorado" and of the failures of the many German and Spanish knights. He would succeed where they had failed. Englishmen had displayed their mettle in the Indies—if the treasures of Peru and Mexico had raised their enemy to be "mistress of the world" and "sovereign of the seas," why should not he also find other golden countries for the benefit of his virgin queen and country? Because two rich provinces had been discovered, it did not follow that there were no others; on the contrary, the rumours of "El Dorado" were so many that they could not be treated with contempt. And then the natives of the "Great Wild Coast," although cannibals, were friendly to the English, who had always treated them fairly, and there they had the advantage over Spain. The country was open to them, although strictly guarded against their rivals.

The stories had been lately revived by the expeditions of Antonio de Berrio, Governor of Trinidad and Guiana, who had made explorations of the river Orinoco, and possibly exaggerated his reports for the purpose of getting settlers. Captain Popham took some letters from a Spanish vessel in 1594, wherein were found accounts of the "Nueva Dorado," which were spoken of as incredibly rich. Ralegh saw these, and was induced by their reports and his own knowledge of the Indies, which he had gained in working at his colonisation schemes, to go out and look up the matter.

The occupation of Guiana, he said, had other ground and assurance of riches than the voyages to the West Indies. The king of Spain was not so impoverished as the English supposed by their taking two or three ports, neither were the riches of Peru or New Spain to be picked up on the sea-shore. The burning of towns on the coast did not impoverish Spain one ducat, for it was within the country that the land was rich and populous. Therefore England should endeavour to get possession of this yet unspoiled country, instead of wasting her energies on adventures that were of no real benefit, and that hardly touched the real source of her enemy's greatness.

Ralegh arrived at Trinidad in March, 1595, and as a matter of precaution captured the Spanish town of St. Joseph, and the Governor, De Berrio, from whom he heard more stories of El Dorado. Here also he began those conciliatory measures with the natives which characterised all his dealings. He released five chiefs, who had been imprisoned in chains and tortured by dropping melted fat on their bodies, and thus gained their friendship. Unlike other adventurers he thought it necessary to excuse himself for burning St. Joseph, which he did in rather quaint language. Considering that if he entered Guiana by small boats and left a garrison of the enemy at his back, he "should have savoured very much of the ass," he took the place, and at the instance of the natives set it on fire.

RALEGH IN TRINIDAD.
(From Gottfried's "Reisen.")

Now began a weary voyage up the Orinoco, first through the delta, which is such a maze that they might have wandered for months without getting into the main river had they not secured an Indian pilot. Exposed alternately to burning sun and drenching showers in open boats, they toiled against the powerful stream. Ralegh everywhere tried his best to ingratiate himself with the Indians, succeeding so well that his name became known over the whole of Guiana. He told them that he had been sent by a great queen, the powerful Cacique of the north, and a virgin, whose chieftains were more numerous than the trees of the forest. She was an enemy to the Spaniards, had freed other nations from their oppression, and had now sent to rescue them. To confirm his statement he gave each Cacique a coin so that they could possess the queen's likeness, and these were treasured and even worshipped for a century afterwards.

Everywhere he heard of El Dorado, but it was always receding farther and farther, until his men became so disheartened that he had to rouse them by saying that they would be shamed before their comrades if they gave up so easily. However, after reaching the mouth of the Caroni and getting specimens of gold ore, he had to return without doing more than locating the city of Manoa several hundred miles to the east of his farthest point. This was done in so exact a manner that the great lake of Parima, as large as the Caspian Sea, was retained upon the maps of South America down to the beginning of the present century. His ore was probably stream quartz, and in representing it as taken from the rock he probably reported what the Indians had told him. When, therefore, he said that the assay gave its value as £13,000 a ton, there is no reason to suppose a mistake or untruth, for pieces quite as valuable may still be picked up. His "Discoverie of Guiana" is such a mixture of close and accurate observation with the hearsay of the Indians, that it is difficult in some cases to separate truth from fiction. Yet, although historians have charged him with wilful lying, there can be no doubt of his good faith. It has been left to the present century to prove that gold-mines exist on the site of the fabled El Dorado, for it is there that the well-known Caratal diggings are situated.

Ralegh asked the people of England to judge for themselves. He had spent much time and money, with no other object than to serve his queen and country. When they considered that it was the Spaniard's gold which endangered and disturbed all the nations of Europe, that "purchaseth intelligence, creepeth into councils and setteth bound loyalty at liberty," they would see the advantage of these provinces he had discovered. Guiana was a country that had never yet been sacked, turned, or wrought. The face of the earth had not been torn, nor the virtue and salt of the soil spent by manurance; the graves had not been opened for gold, the mines not touched with sledges, or the images pulled down from the temples. It was so easily defensible that it could be protected by two forts at the mouth of a river, and thus the whole empire be guarded. The country was already discovered, many nations won to Her Majesty's love and obedience, and those Spaniards who had laboured on the conquest were beaten, discouraged, and disgraced. If Her Majesty took up the enterprise, he doubted not that after the first or second year there would be a Contractation House for Guiana in London, with larger receipts than that for the Indies at Seville.

Such was Ralegh's dream. Another Peru to be conquered, and England to be raised to the highest point of wealth and importance. But unfortunately he could get no assistance to carry out the grand project. Yet he was undoubtedly sincere, for did he not send out two expeditions under Captains Keymis and Berrie the following year, to assure the Indians that he had not forgotten them? Keymis found one tribe keeping a festival in honour of the great princess of the north, and anxiously waiting for the return of Gualtero, which name, by the by, was similar to their word for friend. They made fires, and, sitting in their hammocks, each man with his companion, they recounted the worthy deeds and deaths of their ancestors, execrating their enemies most spitefully, and magnifying their friends with all the titles of honour they could devise. Thus they sat talking and smoking tobacco until their cigars (their measure of time) went out, during which they were not to be disturbed, "for this is their religion and prayers which they now celebrated, keeping a precise fast one whole day in honour of the great princess of the north, their patron and defender."

The explorations of Ralegh and his captains were published all over Europe, with the result that attention was generally drawn to Guiana. Already some Dutchmen had been trading on the coast for many years, and it was even reported that they had established a post in the river Pomeroon, the centre of the province of Caribana. As early as 1542 Flemings had settled at Araya on the coast of Venezuela, where they collected salt and were left undisturbed as long as the Netherlands belonged to Spain. Ralegh seems to have purposely ignored the presence of these people in Guiana, probably to prevent any question of prior rights on the part of a friendly nation. But, after all, the Dutchmen could only have been there on their own responsibility, and their temporary occupation had no meaning from a national point of view.

Now that Guiana was made known, vessels of other nationalities went trading along the coast, everywhere meeting with a hearty welcome from the Indians as long as the visitors were not Spanish. They were only so many additions to their friends—their enemies were confined to Trinidad and the Orinoco, leaving the whole coast of Guiana to its rightful owners. In fact, the Spaniards could no more subdue the Caribs of the Main than they could those of the islands. Only in Trinidad, where the Arawak was employed against the cannibal, was a settlement made possible.

Ralegh was unable to carry out his great project, but others were not backward in attempting to settle in the country. First came Charles Leigh, who in 1604 founded a colony in the river Oyapok, which failed partly from the lack of assistance from England and partly from too great a dependence on the promises of the Indians to supply food. Sickness followed on starvation, Leigh died, and a mutiny took place, after which the survivors got back to Europe in a Dutch trader, which fortunately arrived when all hope of succour had been abandoned. Robert Harcourt followed to the same river in 1609, like Leigh, getting promises of assistance from the Indians by using the name of Ralegh. With their consent he took possession of the country, "by twig and turf," in the name of King James. This ceremony was performed by first cutting a branch from a tree, and then turning up a sod with the sword, thus claiming everything in and on the earth.

Harcourt's colony lasted several years, and in 1613 he received from James the First a grant of all that part of Guiana lying between the rivers Amazons and Essequebo, on the usual condition of the fifth of all gold and silver being handed over to the king. In the same year the Dutch trading factory at Kyk-over-al on the river Essequebo was established, and this was probably the reason why the English grant made that river the boundary of their possessions, leaving the Hollander to establish himself between the Essequebo and the Orinoco.

Meanwhile, in 1603, poor Ralegh had been tried on a charge of aiding and abetting the plot to raise Arabella Stuart to the throne of England, on the death of Queen Elizabeth. Any one who reads the account of his trial will perceive at once the absurdity of the charge, yet Ralegh was convicted and sentenced to be hanged, drawn, and quartered. However, even with all his hatred for the knight, King James dared not carry out the sentence, but instead, kept him imprisoned in the Tower.

Here Ralegh still hankered after the treasures of Guiana, and in 1611 he made a proposition to the Government to send Captain Keymis to find the rich gold mine which had been pointed out to him by an Indian. If Keymis should live to arrive at the place and fail to bring half a ton or more of that rich ore of which he had shown a sample, Ralegh himself would bear all the expense of the journey. "Though," said he, "it be a difficult matter of exceeding difficulty for any man to find the same acre of ground again, in a country desolate and overgrown, which he hath seen but once, and that sixteen years since—which were hard enough to do upon Salisbury Plain—yet that your lordships may be satisfied of the truth, I am contented to adventure all I have (but my reputation) upon Keymis's memory."

This proposition was rejected, and the poor knight lingered on in the Tower, attended during part of the time by two Guiana Indians, Harry and Leonard Regapo. In 1616, however, he at last recovered his liberty on condition that he went to Guiana and brought back gold, but at the same time the king refused to pardon him. Nevertheless he took up the matter with an amount of enthusiasm which showed his entire confidence in its ultimate success. All his own money and as much of his wife's as could be spared was spent in fitting out the expedition, and he also got contributions from many of his friends. The king even went so far as to give him a commission to undertake a voyage to the south parts of America, or elsewhere in America, inhabited by heathen and savage people, with all the necessary rights of government and jurisdiction; yet with all this the old sentence hung over his head.

The expedition of fourteen vessels started in March, 1617, but even from the commencement the voyage was disastrous. First a gale was encountered, which drove the fleet to take refuge in Cork Harbour, where it lay until August. This seems to have put a damper on the commander, who now began to realise how much depended on his success. He was twenty-two years older than when he went on his first voyage to Guiana, and most of those years he had spent in captivity. Is it any wonder that when the excitement attendant on his release had gone off he became sick and utterly prostrated? Such was his condition when the fleet arrived at Cayenne, where he went to look for his Indian boy Harry, who had gone back to his people and was now wanted as interpreter.

So low was Ralegh's condition that he had to be carried ashore, and although he soon became a little better under a course of fresh meat and fruits, he never wholly recovered. So great was his weakness, both of mind and body, that he deputed Keymis to lead the party up the Orinoco, while he rested at Cayenne; in a few days he would go on to Trinidad and wait there until they returned. Keymis accordingly went on, accompanied by young Walter Ralegh, a number of other gentlemen, and four hundred soldiers. They arrived at the site of the supposed gold mine without accident, but found that since the first expedition some Spaniards had built "a town of sticks, covered with leaves," and this stood in the way of their approach to the mine. Possibly Keymis now thought of his master's expression in regard to St. Joseph, and did not care to "savour of an ass" by leaving the enemy to interfere with his work. He therefore attacked this town of St. Thome, and set it on fire. Unfortunately young Ralegh was killed in the fight, and the thought of how he could tell this bad news preyed upon the mind of Keymis until all relish for gold-seeking was lost. The Spaniards took to the bush, from whence they sallied forth on any small party of the English, and ultimately put them into a state of confusion. The mine could not be found, the adventurers began to complain that they had been fooled, and Keymis was so troubled that he seemed neither to know nor care anything about treasure-seeking.

Ralegh had meanwhile arrived in the Gulf of Paria, where he received the news of the burning of St. Thome and the death of his son from some Indians. Presently Keymis arrived, utterly dejected, to find his master broken down and more woe-begone than himself. Ralegh said he was undone, and that Keymis was entirely to blame. Not even a sample of ore—the king would believe him a liar and a cheat. Then, this attack on a Spanish town! Did not Keymis remember that these were not the days of the virgin queen, when to "singe the Spaniard's beard" was worthy of praise? Did he not know that James was friendly with the king of Spain and wanted to get from him a princess for his son Henry?

GOLD HUNTING.
(From Gottfried's "Reisen.")

Keymis had been the intimate friend of Ralegh through all his troubles. He had remained faithful even when threatened with the rack at the time of the trial. As a kind of steward he had administered the prisoner's estate, and was a trusted friend and confidant of the family. He had seen young Walter grow up to manhood, and now through his fault the youth had been killed. For the first time the bereaved father was angry with his captain; perhaps if Keymis died the whole blame would be laid upon his shoulders, and Ralegh be exonerated. He went to the cabin allotted to him, loaded a pistol, shot himself, and then, as he feared the wound was not mortal, finished the suicide by driving a long knife into his heart.

Thus died poor Keymis, but unfortunately this did not make any difference to his master. If Ralegh had been prepared to throw all the responsibility on his lieutenant, the king could only be satisfied with treasure. Even if James had been inclined to over-look the affair, the Spanish ambassador would not condone such an offence. He is said to have rushed into the royal presence with the cry of "Piracy! piracy! piracy!" at the same time demanding the immediate capture and punishment of the raiders. It followed, therefore, that Ralegh was arrested immediately on his return, and finally executed under the old sentence, but by decapitation instead of hanging.

His last days were passed with resignation and fortitude. His old spirit was entirely broken, and although he petitioned the king for grace and pardon, he did so in a hopeless way. He had many sympathisers, and to satisfy them the king's printers issued a little book entitled "A Declaration of the Demeanour and Carriage of Sir Walter Raleigh," obviously inspired by the king himself. Here was a thing unheard of before or since; a sovereign excusing himself for his actions! If anything were required to prove the prisoner's innocence, this was sufficient. Did James want to salve his own conscience, or was it intended to satisfy those who clamoured on account of the injustice of the execution? No doubt many of the old sea dogs who had served under Drake and Hawkins were still living, and remembered when Plymouth bells rang at the news of fresh arrivals from the Indies. "But now, forsooth, you must not burn down a thatched hovel without a great to-do being made." If Spain wanted peace, why did her people murder a ship's company in cold blood a little while before? Out upon it! The good old days had passed and England was going to ruin.

However, even King James's sneaking friendship for Spain could not keep back colonisation altogether. Something like moderation was introduced, and only pirates pure and simple kept up the old traditions. As for the king he hardly knew how to steer, what with the petitions for reprisals from English seamen on the one hand, and complaints of the Spanish ambassadors on the other. The result of this want of policy is well shown in the case of Roger North one of the adventurers in the last expedition of Ralegh, who, in 1619, wished to re-establish the colony in the Oyapok, which had virtually sunk to nothing. An association called the Amazon Company was formed, and, notwithstanding Spanish protests, the king granted "Letters Patent," under which North got up an expedition in four vessels. Then the Spanish ambassador began to storm, and the weak king revoked the patent, calling upon the members of the Company to renounce their rights. North, who had been warned that something was going on, hurried up his preparations, and was off so quickly that he sailed on the 30th of April, 1620, fifteen days before the proclamation revoking his license was published.

On his return in January following he was arrested and sent to the Tower, where he remained until July. Meanwhile his cargo from Guiana was seized on the ground that it had been obtained from Spanish possessions, but with all his willingness to oblige Spain the king could not get the case proven. It followed, therefore, that North was released, and his goods restored, but as the cargo was mainly tobacco it had become much damaged by neglect.

This detention of North, and the consequent delay in sending out supplies to the Oyapok, led to the downfall of the infant colony. Hearing nothing from England the settlers became disheartened, and if it had not happened that Dutch traders arrived there occasionally they would have been starved. Even as it was one left after another until few remained, and when, six years later, "the Company of Noblemen and Gentlemen of England for the Plantation of Guiana" was formed, the settlement had to be commenced anew. However, some of those who left carried the English flag to the island of St. Christopher's, where a settlement was commenced in 1624 by Thomas Warner. Thus, as Ralegh was the father of English colonisation, so his beloved Guiana became the parent of the British West Indies.

James the First died in March, 1625, and with him went the English subservience to Spain, never to be restored. During his reign British enterprise had been kept back; now it broke down all obstructions. True, New England and Bermuda were settled during his reign, but they owed little to him or his government. As soon as the Royal obstructionist was dead, colonisation schemes came to the front. Before even a month had passed, on the 14th of April, John Coke came forward with a proposition to incorporate a company for the defence and protection of the West Indies, for establishing a trade there, and for fitting out a fleet to attack the Spanish settlements. About the same time, also, the Attorney-General made some "notes" on the advantages derived by the Spaniards and Dutch from their West Indian trade, showing that it was neither safe nor profitable to England for them to remain absolute lords of those parts, and suggesting that the new king should entertain the matter and openly interpose, or else permit it to be done underhand; then if it prospered he could make it his own at pleasure.

What was done in these particular cases does not appear, but that a new policy was introduced is certain. In September following the case of St. Christopher's was brought before the Privy Council, which apparently confirmed what had been done, in taking possession of the island. In the "information" laid over it was stated that Thomas Warner had discovered that island, as well as Nevis, Barbados, and Montserrat, and had begun the planting and colonising of these islands, until then only inhabited by savages. King Charles was asked to take them under his royal protection and grant Thomas Warner their custody as his lieutenant, with the usual powers of jurisdiction.

The result was not altogether to the liking of the petitioners, Ralph Merrifield and Thomas Warner, for in July, 1627, a grant of all the Caribbees was made to the Earl of Carlisle. This was sweeping enough, however, to suit those who wanted English colonies, however it ignored the rights of the first settlers in St. Kitt's and Barbados, which latter island had been settled a few months after the first.

Now, also, Roger North came forward with his story and got the revoked patent renewed, so that he could go on with the settlement in the Oyapok. For a time it did very well, but the tide had turned in favour of the islands, and Guiana was soon abandoned to the Dutch and French.

The most important of the two islands first colonised was Barbados, which, fortunately for her comfort, never suffered from such calamities as befel the sister island of St. Christopher's. As far as the English were concerned Barbados was discovered by a vessel going out to Leigh's settlement, in Guiana, in 1605. A pillar was erected with the inscription, "James, King of England and this island," but nothing was done in the way of a settlement until immediately after Warner commenced planting in St. Kitt's. The most intimate connection existed between Barbados and Guiana from the earliest times, as in fact it does to the present day, for Captain Powell, the commander of the little company of pioneers, sent to his Dutch friend, Groenwegel, in Essequebo, for a party of Arawak Indians to teach the new-comers how to plant provisions, cotton, and tobacco.

In 1630 another group of islands was added by the granting of a patent to the "Governor and Company of Adventurers for the Plantation of the Islands of Providence, Henrietta, and the adjacent islands." Under this charter possession was taken of the Bahamas, but little was done in the way of settling them for about a century. Thus West Indian colonisation was commenced, and claims made to all the smaller islands on behalf of England.

But it is not to be supposed that France and Holland were going to let everything go by default—on the contrary, they soon began to settle in some of the very islands which had been granted to the Earl of Carlisle. The Dutch, as we have seen, were traders from the beginning, preferring the so-called contraband traffic with the natives and Spanish colonists to anything like the raids of English or French. Yet, in their plodding way they went on steadily, and as early as the year 1600 took possession of the island of St. Eustatius. When the Spaniards awoke to the fact that the Dutch were injuring their trade, they began to enforce all the old prohibitions and seized the smugglers. But the Hollander commenced to feel his power, and gave his enemy several lessons, which made him feel that the United Provinces with their symbol of a bundle of darts were not to be despised.

In 1615 the Dutch took the capital of Porto Rico, and in 1621 their West India Company was formed with territorial and trading rights over all the unoccupied countries of Africa and America. Suddenly as it were the despised Hollander became a power in the West Indies, and the Company was soon strong enough to conquer Brazil, which it must be remembered was, with Portugal and all her colonies, then in the hands of Spain. About the year 1627 Piet Heyn destroyed a Spanish fleet in Mataça Bay, Cuba, the booty from which was something enormous. Altogether, the West India Company was said to have captured 547 vessels, mainly off the coast of America, the prize money from which amounted to thirty million guilders (£2,500,000), while the damage to Spain was at least six times as much.

Now also the French began to claim their share. In 1625 Mons. d'Enambuc went on a piratical expedition to the Caribbean Sea, but without any intention of founding a colony. However, off the Cayman's islands he was attacked by a Spanish galleon of much superior force, and although he succeeded at last in driving her off, his vessel was so crippled that he had to put into St. Christopher's for repairs. Here he found Warner already established, and with him a few Frenchmen. On account of his condition and the beauty of the island, he became inclined to settle, and as the English and French were then on good terms, Warner saw no objection. The consequence was that St. Kitt's became divided between the two nationalities, with results in the future most disastrous to both.

At first, however, the assistance of the French was very welcome. The Caribs were still a power in the smaller islands and gave a great deal of trouble to the young colony. At first they were friendly, but when the settlers wished to oppress them by taking away their lands and compelling them to supply provisions, open war began. Hearing from an Indian woman that a conspiracy was forming to destroy all the white men, Warner determined to be beforehand with them. He massacred a hundred and twenty of the men, took the women as slaves, and drove the remainder off the island. But these powerful savages were by no mean conquered, for those who escaped soon came back with three or four thousand of their friends from neighbouring islands, and at first it appeared as if the whites would have been utterly exterminated. By a supreme effort of both French and English, however, this great invasion was repelled, the defenders killing about two thousand, and capturing fifteen large periaguas, with a loss to themselves of about a hundred, most of whom died from poisoned arrows. This was a bond of union between French and English, and Warner and d'Enambuc amicably divided the island between them.

CARIB ATTACK ON A SETTLEMENT
(From Gottfried's "Reisen.")

V

BUCCANEERS, FILIBUSTERS, AND PIRATES

Now that settlements were commenced the old system of piracy was somewhat discountenanced by the home governments, and many of the adventurers began to become a little more civilised. But there was still a large number of them who became known as buccaneers, filibusters, freebooters, marooners, and brethren of the coast, who continued to worry the Spaniards, and even to attack other nationalities on occasion. They had taken to the trade, and, when no longer able to carry it on in a quasi-legitimate manner, did so on their own lines.

The claim of Spain to the whole of America was the great cause of offence. Had she been content with what her people could occupy, there would have been little trouble, but the "dog in the manger" policy could hardly be recognised by other nations. It followed, therefore, that when complaints were made to France and England of the ravages on the Spanish coasts, the sovereigns told the king of Spain to protect his own shores, disclaiming on their own parts any responsibility whatever.

The earliest accounts of the buccaneers are confused with those of the French corsairs, of which mention has been already made. They sailed along the coast from one island to another, trading a little, capturing Spanish vessels, fighting the guarda-costas, and now and again repairing to some out-of-the-way place to put their ships in order or even to assist the Caribs in their raids. The advantages of combination were soon felt, and with these also the necessity for places of rendezvous. Even the English adventurers became accustomed to obtain wood and water from Dominica, but this island was not conveniently situated for the French corsairs. They wanted an uninhabited place near enough to Hispaniola and the track of the Spanish vessels for them to be quickly pounced upon and for the corsairs to as quickly escape. Then there must be a food supply, and on the great island of Hispaniola were countless herds of wild cattle which ranged over a wilderness utterly depopulated.

The palmy days of the Hispaniola planter were over, and although he imported negro slaves to some extent, he was virtually ruined. One after another left for the newly discovered countries on the Main, and for Peru and Mexico, leaving the island to a few merchants and wealthy planters, who found it to their interest to remain. Hispaniola was little more than a house of call on the road to the treasure countries, which meant that although the port of St. Domingo was fortified, the greater portion of the island was open to any one who chose to occupy it.

Salt was a scarce commodity in those times, but it could be obtained in some of the smaller islands, notably Tortuga, which for that reason became the resort of the buccaneers. But the Indians had learnt how to preserve meat without this useful substance, by smoking it over a fire of green branches and leaves. Even Europeans knew something of this process, although we believe they never preserved their beef and bacon entirely without salt as did the Indians their game. The process was very simple. Four sticks with forked ends were pushed into the ground, and on these uprights a sort of rack of other sticks was laid to make an open platform, where the pieces of meat were laid above a fire until well dried and impregnated with smoke. This stage was called a boucan, or barbecue, and from their using it to prepare supplies for their voyages the corsairs became known as buccaneers.

There were no tinned provisions in those days, nor had the proper means of keeping food on long voyages been yet perfected. It followed, therefore, that a food supply in the Indies had to be provided, and the Spaniards unintentionally did good service to their enemies by placing hogs on most of the islands to breed and be available in emergencies.

It is obvious that the hunting of semi-wild animals and curing their meat required time, and for that reason a division of labour was initiated. While one party went cruising in search of Spanish vessels, another ranged the country to capture and prepare the supplies against their return. Thus a rendezvous became necessary, and in time plantations were established in this neighbourhood to gradually develop into a settlement. Now and again the Spaniards discovered these places, but as they were generally of little value, their loss was of no importance; if destroyed the buccaneers could easily escape to another locality. When the enemy burnt their vessels, they easily built canoes with which they soon captured others and became as strong as before. The hunters grew to like their hardy life with its perfect liberty, and became so inured to the climate and open air as to be utterly unlike the effeminate planters. They were even little subject to the diseases of the country, and could live for months at a time on nothing but meat. As for clothes, they made these from the skins of animals, and all they really required from outside was powder and lead for their firearms.

They became known as the brethren of the coast from their custom of each choosing one comrade as a bosom friend and brother. Everything gained by either was common to both, and the company were very strict in enforcing their law against unfaithfulness in a companion, or unfair dealing in any way among themselves. Sometimes they marooned a culprit by leaving him alone on some small island to die of hunger, or perhaps to become a "Crusoe" for many years. The wounded received compensation according to a fixed tariff, from the common stock or from contributions; thus the loss of an arm was valued at five hundred crowns, and other mutilations at corresponding rates.

As the attacks of the Spaniards became more common, the small bands united, and division of labour became more exact. Some were hunters of wild boars, others of cattle, a few became planters, but the main body were always sea rovers. At first the hunters were on good terms with the Spanish planters and entered into engagements to supply them with meat. A party would go off into the interior and stay away for months at a time, eventually returning with large supplies borne on the backs of their horses. During all this time they lived in rough shelters which could be erected in an afternoon, and were much exposed to the vicissitudes of the weather. Now they made up for their long term of privation by carousing to their hearts' content, and when drunk, often fought and killed each other. In the settlements there were generally a few women, and these often became the cause of contentions; there were also bond-servants who were treated most cruelly.

Sometimes they made incursions on the Spanish settlements, which led to stronger efforts for their extermination that at last considerably reduced their numbers. In fact, had it not been for the continual accessions they would soon have died out, or have given up their trade and settled down as planters. Hispaniola became at last almost untenable, for the Spaniards, unable to find any other way of putting them down, organised several hunting parties with the view to utterly destroy the wild cattle and thus deprive them of their means of living. Not that this was easily done, for it took many years, during which the hunting parties from both sides fought and killed each other, committing enormities which made the quarrel all the more bitter.

About the year 1632 a party of buccaneers captured the island of Tortuga from the Spaniards, the garrison of twenty-five men surrendering without a blow. Here was now the grand rendezvous of the French, for which it was perfectly suitable from its proximity to the food supply and the track of the Spanish vessels. It was situated on the north of the western portion of Hispaniola, and not very well suited for plantations, although good tobacco was grown there. There were, however, plenty of sea fowl and turtle to be had, as well as their eggs, which formed a large portion of the diet of the inhabitants.

This island became a veritable pandemonium—the sink of the West Indies. It was the place of call for rovers of all nations, the market for their booty, and the storehouse for everything in the way of supplies. The merchants pandered to the tastes of their customers, and drinking and gambling went on continually. But in 1638 it was surprised by the Spaniards, who began to be alarmed at this nest of pirates at their very doors. They chose a time when most of the rovers were away on a cruise, and the buccaneers gone hunting in Hispaniola. All they captured were killed—even those who surrendered being hanged as pirates. Only a few escaped by hiding among the rocks and bushes to come forth after the enemy had left, which they did without leaving a garrison.

A grand attempt to expel the hunters from the main island was now organised, in which a corps of five hundred lancers ranged the island in bands of fifties. Many of the buccaneers were killed, but the remainder combined together under an Englishman named Willis and again took possession of Tortuga.

From this rendezvous near Hispaniola the main passages between the islands were under observation, but a similar station was required near the Isthmus, and this was established about 1630 in the Bay of Campeachy. Like that at Tortuga its beginnings are lost in obscurity. At first one or more of the small islands or keys was used on occasion—later fortifications were erected, and a watch always kept for the enemy. The excuse for the settlement was the logwood trade, but this did not become of much importance until after the English conquest of Jamaica.

Like the true buccaneers these pirates were fond of hunting, but their game was principally Indians, whom they attacked and carried off from the Main, the men to sell to the plantations and the women to keep for themselves. When they arrived after a cruise and sold their booty, they would have a jolly time with drinking, gambling, and firing of guns, until the island would seem to be the habitation of devils rather than human beings.

There were also other pirate resorts, notably the Virgin Islands and the Bahamas, but these were generally used only by one company, and never rose to the position of general resorts. It is to these that most of the romances refer, but the stories of Pirate and Treasure islands rarely have much foundation in fact.

How privateers became pirates is well shown by a case that occurred in the latter half of the seventeenth century. A vessel went cruising from the Carolinas, and after being out for eighteen months had gained so few prizes that the crew began to complain. After discussing the situation, they resolved to try the South Sea, where they hoped to find the Spaniards less prepared. Meeting with very bad weather at the entrance of the Strait of Magellan, they were, however, obliged to turn back, and then the majority decided to become pirates. Eight men who refused to agree were marooned on the island of Fernando Po, their late comrades leaving them a small boat in which they expected to be able to get to some English colony.

The vessel left, and commenced her piratical work at once by capturing a Portuguese ship larger than herself, the crew being brought and landed on the same island. In the night the Portuguese made off, taking with them the Englishmen's boat as well as their own, leaving the eight privateers to do the best they could. However, they were not easily daunted, and at once began to cut down trees and build a sloop of four tons, which they finished in six weeks, meanwhile living on sea fowl and their eggs, which were plentiful. Finally they sailed for Tobago, but missing that island got to Tortuga, where they arrived almost perishing with hunger and thirst, having had nothing to eat or drink for six days. Even then they were not discouraged, but after resting awhile, set sail in the same boat for New England, passing along the Spanish islands, often unable to land for water on account of the enemy, and lying under cover of the mangroves, to be almost devoured by mosquitoes. Even with all this care they were taken at last, stripped, thrust down in the hold of a Spanish guarda-costa, and finally kept as slaves in the island of Cuba.

In the early years of the seventeenth century few of the adventurers had any commissions, but as the mother countries began to establish settlements, letters of marque were granted when there was a war. The corsairs and pirates then became privateers, only to go back to their old trade when peace was nominally restored. Some played fast and loose with these commissions, sometimes having both French and English at the same time, either to be used according to circumstances. The French Governors went so far as to sell these documents signed and sealed, but without names, so that they passed from hand to hand ready to be filled up when the pirate wished to escape the yard-arm. The young colonies were too weak to incur their displeasure—in fact they were glad to encourage their visits, as the settlers could always pick up good bargains when they sold their booty. Yet, with all that, there was a dread of them, even among their own countrymen, which prevented that feeling of safety which best consists with the progress of a colony.

We can say little of individuals, as there were so many, but we may mention a few of the most striking characters and their daring exploits. They inspired such dread among the Spaniards that at last the latter hardly dared to defend themselves against them, but on their approach immediately surrendered. If the cargo was rich, quarter was granted, but if otherwise, or anything was found secreted, the whole company, officers, crew, and passengers, were forced to leap overboard. Pierre Legrand with his twenty-eight men once attacked a great Spanish galleon, and before going alongside scuttled his own vessel so that it sunk as the pirates leapt on to the enemy's deck. With no possibility of retreat the men fought like devils and quickly got possession of the galleon, with the usual result.

When other nations had compelled respect from Spain their vessels were sometimes chartered to carry rich cargoes, which thus sailed under the protection of another flag. But the pirates were not to be cheated so easily, for they had their spies on the look-out, and often managed to glean information. On one occasion Captains Michael de Basco and Brouage heard of two Dutch vessels leaving Carthagena with treasure and at once followed, attacked and captured them. Exasperated at being beaten by a force much smaller than their own, the Dutch captains told Michael that he could not have overcome them if he had been alone. "Very well," said the audacious Frenchman, "let us begin the fight again, and Captain Brouage shall look on. But if I conquer I will not only have the Spanish silver you carry, but your own ships as well." The Dutch were not inclined to accept this challenge, but made off as soon as they could after the treasure had been taken into the pirate vessels, fearing they might otherwise lose their opportunity.

Captain Lawrence was once unexpectedly overtaken by two Spanish sixty-gun ships, the crews of which numbered fifteen hundred. Addressing his men, he said—"You have experience enough to be aware of your danger, and too much courage to fear. On this occasion we must avail ourselves of every circumstance, hazard everything, and attack and defend at the same time. Valour, artifice, rashness, and even despair itself must now be employed. Let us fear the disgrace of a defeat; let us dread the cruelty of our enemy; and let us fight that we may escape him." After he was applauded with loud cheers, Lawrence took aside one of the bravest of his men, and in the presence of all, gave him strict orders to fire the gunpowder at a given signal, thus telling them plainly they must fight or be blown up. Meanwhile the enemy had approached very close, and Lawrence, ranging his men on both sides of the vessel, steered between the two great monsters, firing a broadside on either hand as he passed, which they could not return for fear of damaging each other. He did not succeed in capturing them, but they were so demoralised by his determined attitude, and the number of killed and wounded, that they were glad to make off.

Montbar was a Frenchman who had heard of the atrocities of the Spaniards and the exploits of the buccaneers, and determined to go out to the West Indies to join in the fray. On his voyage from France he met a Spanish vessel which he attacked and boarded with a sabre in his hand. Passing twice from bow to stern, he carved his way through the enemy, entirely reckless of danger, and by his example animated his comrades until the vessel was taken. Then standing apart while the spoil was being divided, he gloated with savage pleasure over the corpses that lay on the deck.

Arrived at Hispaniola he heard from the buccaneers that they could do little in the way of planting because of the continual attacks on their settlements. "Why then," said Montbar, roughly, "do you tamely submit to such insults?" "We do not!" they answered; "the Spaniards have experienced what kind of men we are, and therefore take advantage of the time when we go hunting. But we are going to join with some of our companions, who have been even worse treated than ourselves, and then we shall have hot work." "If such be the case let me lead you," said Montbar, "not as a commander, but first in the post of danger."

They were quite willing to have him as leader, and the very same day he went at the head of a party to find the enemy. Meeting a small body of Spaniards he rushed upon them with such fury that hardly one escaped, and this at once justified them in their choice. He afterwards became such a terror all over the West Indies as to be known as "the Exterminator."

Lolonois was another ruffian, who commenced his career by taking a Spanish frigate with only two canoes and twenty-two men. This vessel had sailed from Havana especially to put down the buccaneers, and had on board a negro executioner who was engaged to hang the prisoners. Hearing this from the negro, Lolonois ordered all the Spaniards to be brought before him, and going down the line, he struck off one head after another, licking his sword after each blow. He afterwards went to Port au Prince, where four vessels were fitting out for his capture. These he took and threw all their crews into the sea, except one man, whom he sent to the Governor of Havana with the news, and a warning that he would treat the Governor himself in the same way if he had the opportunity.

After this he ran the best prizes aground and sailed for Tortuga in the frigate, where he joined Michael de Basco. With four hundred and forty men this worthy pair sailed for the Main, where they plundered the coast of Venezuela, set fire to Gibraltar, and held Maracaybo for ransom. They carried off all the crosses, pictures, plate, ornaments, and even bells from the churches, with the intention of using them in a great cathedral to be erected on Tortuga.

Although the buccaneers were mostly French they were not confined to that nationality. The famous or notorious Captain Morgan was a Welshman, who began his career in the West Indies as a bond-servant. One of his greatest exploits was the capture of Porto Bello, which had taken the place of Nombre de Dios after that town had been burnt by Drake. He even out-did Drake and every other adventurer before him by storming Panama, from whence he obtained a very rich booty. Here he fell in love with a Spanish lady, who, however, threatened to stab herself rather than yield to his embraces. Even when he tried the gentlest measures which such a ruffian could think of, she still refused to yield, so that he had ultimately to comply with the wishes of his companions and leave her. Panama was burnt, the retreat across the isthmus safely performed without any serious misadventure, and Morgan sailed away to Jamaica with the lion's share of the plunder.

In this great expedition the buccaneers of all nations united to form a combination hitherto unknown. But, as this was the first time that such a thing had occurred, so also was it the last. As for Morgan his career was ended; his comrades charged him with treachery and made it unsafe for him to come within their reach. He therefore settled down in Jamaica, made himself right with the authorities there and in England, was knighted by King Charles the Second, and professed now to have a great dislike to piracy. On two occasions Sir Henry Morgan became acting Governor of Jamaica, and in that capacity did his best to discountenance buccaneering.

In 1683 a great expedition was organised at Tortuga by Van Horn, a Fleming, noted for his courage and ferocity. In the heat of an engagement he would pace the deck, and urge his men to fight by shooting any one who even flinched from a ball. He thus made himself a terror to cowards and the admiration of the brave; like Montbar, gaining the respect and confidence of his followers. Like the French leader also, he was careless about his own share of the booty, leaving everything to his men, which naturally increased his popularity. With twelve hundred men in six vessels he sailed for Vera Cruz, and surprised the town at night. Most of the inhabitants took refuge in the churches, and the buccaneers posted sentries with barrels of gunpowder in front of each, giving orders to blow up the buildings on the least sign of an attempt to escape. After plundering the houses they demanded about half a million pounds from the prisoners as ransom for their lives and liberties. This was not obtained, however, for while waiting the collection a large body of troops was seen approaching from the interior, and a fleet of seventeen vessels came into the harbour from Spain. Yet the buccaneers were determined to get something towards the ransom, and to this end seized fifteen hundred slaves, with which they quietly sailed away in defiance of the enemy, promising to call again for the balance of the ransom. The Spanish fleet let them pass without firing a single gun, and they went back to Tortuga, there to spend a year in rioting and carousing.

When their money was all spent they resolved to try the most arduous of adventures, a raid on the ports of the Great South Sea. And it happened curiously that at that very time the English pirates were getting ready for a similar venture, without either having knowledge of that of the other party. About four thousand men were engaged, some going by way of the Straits of Magellan and others across the isthmus. The English and French met, and at first agreed to work together, but for want of one leader who could command and be respected by both parties, the expedition proved almost a failure. Possibly also the French had not forgotten Morgan's treachery, and this caused distrust and prevented any cordial feeling.

Those who travelled across the isthmus stole boats on the other side, and with them captured larger vessels, until this little frequented sea became almost as dangerous to Spanish ships as the Caribbean. Most of the smaller ports were surprised, and even Guayaquil was captured, mainly because they were not provided with forts and other defences. In fact, the people were so unacquainted with war and so wrapped up by the supposed security of their position, that even when the alarm was given little could be done. Silver became so common that nothing but gold, pearls, and precious stones would satisfy the spoilers, yet with all their easy conquests they got little real benefit. Some died of sickness, and many from the results of drunkenness and debauchery. The storms of Cape Horn and the Straits wrecked several vessels, and drowned both spoil and spoilers, while those who attempted to return by land were equally unfortunate. They died in the bush of fever and dysentery, or were cut off by ambuscades of the enemy, often losing their booty if they escaped with their lives.

What a journey across the isthmus really meant at that time is well exemplified in the case of Lionel Wafer. In 1681 he was a surgeon on board an English vessel under Captain Sharp, one of those privateers who went cruising in the South Sea. After spending some time there the party divided, one portion deciding to cross overland, and the other to continue the cruise.

Wafer went with those who intended crossing the isthmus, the whole numbering forty-four white men and three Indians. They marched from the Pacific shore one afternoon, and towards night arrived at the foot of a hill, where they put up several rough sheds. Rain had already begun to fall—such rain as is only known in the tropics—and they had to crouch under these imperfect shelters until midnight, with streams of water running down their backs and rivulets flowing about their feet. By morning they felt less discomfort and were glad to warm their chilled limbs by walking up the hill. Here they came upon an Indian path which led to a village, where they were gratified with food and a drink made of Indian corn. After resting awhile they agreed with one of the Indians to guide them on the next day's journey, and that night rested in the village.

Next morning they went on again, and at mid-day arrived at an Indian hut, the owner of which was so morose and surly that at first he refused to have anything to do with them. After they had spoken kindly and asked him to guide them on their journey, he roughly answered that he was prepared to lead them to the Spanish settlements. This of course would never do, and they offered him beads, money, axes, and knives to gain his good-will, but all without effect, until a sky-blue petticoat was dangled before the eyes of his wife. This turned the scale, for her persuasions being added to theirs, he at last consented to procure a guide, excusing himself from the task on the plea that he was lame from a cut. He wished to detain them with him for the day, as it still rained, but they were in so great a dread of being discovered by the enemy that, having obtained the guide, they marched three miles farther before stopping for the night.

On the fourth morning the weather was fairer, and they travelled for twelve miles over hills and through slushy morasses, crossing one river after another to the number of about thirty. Rain poured down again in the afternoon and during the greater part of the night, so that they had much ado to keep their fires from going out. What with the discomforts of their situation, the want of proper food, and the chilliness preceding intermittent fever, they even forgot for the time their fears of the Spaniards. However, as the sun rose they went on again until, after travelling seven miles through the forest, they reached the hut of a Spanish Indian, who supplied them with yams, sweet potatoes, and plantains, but no meat except the flesh of two monkeys, which they gave to the weak and sickly.

While resting here Wafer met with an accident. One of the company, in drying some gunpowder on a silver plate, carelessly placed it near the fire where he was sitting, with the result that it exploded and tore the skin and flesh from one of his thighs, rendering him almost helpless. He had a few medicines in his knapsack and dressed the wound as well as he could under the circumstances, but rest and proper food were needed, and these he could not have. The consequence was that, after struggling along with the others until he sank down exhausted and suffering from excruciating torture, he was left behind with two sick men at an Indian village, where they were presently joined by two others who had broken down.

Observing the condition of Wafer's wound, the Indians treated it with a poultice of chewed herbs on a plantain leaf, and in twenty days it was healed. Nevertheless, although they did him this kindness, they were not over civil, but on the contrary treated the five white men with contempt, throwing them their refuse provisions as if they were dogs. One young Indian proved kinder, and got them some ripe bananas now and then, but the others were annoyed because the main body had compelled some inhabitants of the village to go with them as guides against their will. The weather was then so bad that even the Indians considered travelling almost impossible, and this annoyed them all the more, especially when the guides did not return.

Day after day passed, and the Indians becoming more incensed at the non-arrival of their people, began to think of avenging themselves on Wafer and his comrades. Thinking that the guides had been murdered, they determined to burn them to death, and even went so far as to erect a great pile of wood for the purpose. But almost at the last moment their chief interposed, and offered to send away the Englishmen in charge of two guides.

Accordingly they set out, their only food supply a little dry Indian corn, and their only resting-place at night the wet ground, still exposed to drenching rains which fell every day. The third night they went to sleep on a low mound, and in the morning woke to find it a little island with water extending as far as their eyes could reach. To add to their trouble, the Indian guides had disappeared, leaving them to remain here without shelter and almost starved for three days. Then the waters fell and they commenced the weary work of steering to the north by means of a pocket compass—a task the difficulty of which can only be appreciated by one who has attempted it.

However, they soon reached the bank of a deep river, the stream of which was rushing along like a mill race. Here a lately-felled tree lying across showed them where their comrades had passed, and they commenced to climb over astride as the trunk was so slippery. One of the party was so weak and so overburdened by four hundred pieces of eight (silver dollars) that he fell, and was immediately carried down the stream out of sight.

Giving him up as lost, the four survivors went wandering about, looking for the footprints of their comrades, but could find no trace of them, probably on account of the floods. Fearing a mistake, they again crossed the river and recommenced the search on the other side, where they were surprised to come upon their lost companion sitting on the bank, which he had managed to gain by grasping the bough of a tree as he was borne swiftly past. Finding no signs of a trail, they again went on working with the compass as before. On the fifth day they had nothing to eat but a few wild berries, and the day following arrived at another great river where not even a tree lay across to give them a passage. They had only their long knives, but with them they set to work and cut down bamboos, with which rafts were made by binding the sticks with bush-ropes. They had just finished and were resting awhile, when a terrible storm came on. The rain fell as if from a cascade, thunder rolled and lightning flashed, accompanied by a sulphurous odour which almost choked them. There was no shelter but the trees of the forest, and the fire was put out at once, leaving these half-starved wretches to shiver and shake with ague all through the afternoon and up to midnight.

Then the waters began to rise, and in the darkness—that total absence of light under the canopy of foliage, where two men sitting together only know of each other's presence by feeling, for the din of the elements is absolutely deafening—Wafer began to appreciate the fact that the swirl of the flood had reached his feet. With no possibility of communicating with the others, he felt his way to a hollow silk-cotton tree, into which he crawled, and climbed upon a heap of debris that stood in the centre. Here he fell asleep from sheer exhaustion, or more probably, perhaps, fainted. When he awoke he said it was impossible for words to paint the terrors that overwhelmed his mind. The water reached to his knees, notwithstanding that the mound was five feet above the ground level, and he was afraid it would reach still higher. However, as the sun rose the flood went down, and presently he was glad to crawl out and stretch his chilled limbs. But he was all alone, and at first thought his comrades had been drowned. He shouted, but no answer came back, except the echo of his own voice. Giving way to despair, he threw himself on the buttress of a tree, from which condition he was roused by the appearance of first one and then another, until the little company was again complete. They also had found similar refuges and now came to look after their rafts.

But the bundles of canes had become water-logged and useless, so they resolved to retrace their steps if possible to the Indian village. On their way they unfortunately missed shooting a deer which lay beside the path, and had nothing to eat but macaw berries and the pith of a tree. Seeing the track of a wild hog they followed that, and ultimately came upon two provision fields. But even with this prospect of food they were so much depressed that, although perishing with hunger, they were afraid to venture near the Indian huts, and lingered about for some time. However, at last Wafer summoned enough courage to go into one of them, when almost immediately he was so affected by the close atmosphere and the odour of some meat cooking over the fire, that he fainted.

The kindly Indians assisted in his recovery, and gave him something to eat, when he was pleasantly surprised to find there the very same guides on whose account he and his comrades had been nearly roasted to death. On telling them where the others were, the Indians went out and brought back three, but had to carry food to the fourth before he could gain enough strength to walk the short distance. Here they were treated with the greatest humanity and tenderness, and after resting a week they again started with four guides, to reach the same river that had before checked their progress, in one day. Here, finding a canoe, they proceeded up stream until, arriving at the dwelling of the chief who had saved them from torture, they were told it was impossible to go on in such weather.

Wafer and his companions stopped here for several months—in fact the chief wished to retain them altogether. As a physician, Wafer was respected and loved; but at last, wishing to depart, by repeated importunities and the promise to come back with some good hunting-dogs, and then to marry the chief's daughter, he was at last furnished with guides. Over high mountains, along the edges of precipices, and through dense forests they toiled until they came to a river flowing north, on which they embarked, and reached the shores of the Gulf of Darien two days later. Here they were overjoyed to find an English vessel, the crew of which gave them a hearty welcome, making up to some extent for their long and perilous journey.

VI

WAR IN THE YOUNG COLONIES

At the beginning of the seventeenth century Spain was nominally at peace with the other great powers, except the Netherlands, which had not yet come to the front. By the treaty of 1604 Queen Elizabeth made up the English quarrel, and in 1609 even Holland was conceded a truce for nine years.

Thus amity was supposed to exist, and the raids of licensed privateers came to an end. Yet there was "no peace beyond the line." Not to mention corsairs and pirates, the English were as determined on their part to get a share of America as were the Spaniards to keep them out if possible. The founders of Virginia were resolute to lose their lives rather than abandon so noble a colony. Even King James dared not give it up, although in 1612 and the following year there was a hot contention with the Spanish Secretary of State on the matter. Spain was discontented that the colony should have the royal sanction, and at the same time demanded its removal, accompanying this with a threat to drive out the settlers, as well as those in the Bermudas. But James could not admit the Papal Bull, and as the English were firm, the claimants of the whole of America contented themselves with protests.

In the West Indies, however, Spain went farther. Here she had undoubtedly the right by discovery, although not by actual possession, save in the Greater Antilles. The weak English king who succeeded the strong-minded Tudor princess was not prepared to contest the Spanish supremacy here, but simply answered the complaints against English adventurers by disclaiming all responsibility. Neither England nor France had officially taken the ground that only actual possession created territorial rights, but many Englishmen were clamouring loudly to that effect. We have already noticed in another chapter James's policy, or want of policy, and the change which took place a few weeks after his death—we have now to deal with the results of that alteration.

In 1621 hostilities were renewed between Spain and the Netherlands, but even during the nominal truce the Dutch invaded Margarita, and demolished the fort, but without, however, taking actual possession. When the truce was over hostilities were recommenced with a vigour that rather astonished Spain, for in the interval the Netherlands had progressed wonderfully. In 1625, the year of his accession, Charles the First entered into a treaty, offensive and defensive, with the United Provinces, which of course brought England into collision with Spain, and open war began again in the West Indies. In 1629 a fleet of thirty-five vessels under Don Frederic de Toledo conquered the island of St. Christopher's and removed most of the English settlers, only a few of whom managed to escape to the mountains, while the French got off in two of their vessels. The French refugees suffered a great deal from the want of preparation for their hurried flight, and arrived at the island of St. Martin's perishing with hunger and thirst. Here they dug holes in the sand and obtained a supply of brackish water, which was so unwholesome that some died from drinking it in excessive quantities. After the Spaniards left they returned to St. Christopher's to find a few English, who, annoyed at their desertion, wanted to keep the island to themselves, but the French were too numerous and soon took possession of their old quarters.

In 1632 the Dutch took possession of Tobago, and two years later of Curaçao, which latter island soon became their great stronghold in the West Indies, and the principal depôt for the contraband traffic with Venezuela. At that time no Spanish vessels went to this part of the Main, but finding that the trade was of some importance to the Dutch, the authorities now granted licenses to drive their rivals out of the market. But the Spanish traders could not compete with the Hollanders, and this so annoyed the authorities that they determined to extinguish smuggling at any cost. This they were unable to do by catching the delinquents, but they could punish those who dealt with them. The result was the infliction of heavy fines and confiscation, with disgraceful punishments, from which many were ruined. Yet with all that the trade was so lucrative to both parties that neither was inclined to give it up—the Dutch took care of themselves, while cheap commodities could generally command a market, whatever the risk. The fact was the mother country imposed so many restrictions, and exacted such heavy fees for licenses, that the cost of an article was doubled or trebled as compared with that of the Hollander.

In 1627 a French Association was incorporated under the title of "The Company of the Islands of America." They appointed the Sieurs d'Enambuc and du Rossy to settle the islands of St. Christopher's and Barbados as well as others situated at the "entrance of Peru." Nothing was done at Barbados, as the English were already in possession, but in 1634 examinations of Dominica, Martinique, and Guadeloupe were made, which ended in the two latter islands becoming French colonies in 1635.

Meanwhile, in November, 1630, a treaty was signed at Madrid between England and Spain, after which peace was supposed to again prevail. Nothing was said about the West Indies, probably because Spain knew that further protests were useless. Hardly had this been settled before, in 1635, France declared war against the common foe, and her corsairs could now legally carry on their work of pillage and destruction. In 1638 the island of St. Martin's, which had been partly occupied by French and Dutch, was captured by Spaniards, who expelled the inhabitants and replaced them by a strong garrison. In the same year Colonel Jackson, with a force from the English islands, captured Santiago de la Vega in Jamaica, and plundered it of everything valuable, after which, in retaliation, the island of New Providence, one of the Bahamas, was captured by Spain. Neither place was, however, occupied by the captors, who only did as much damage as they could and then left.

Almost from the commencement of their settlements the French had quarrelled among themselves, but until the struggle which ended in the execution of Charles the First, there had been few difficulties in the English islands. The Barbadians, it is true, protested against the claim of the Earl of Carlisle, in which they were joined by the people of St. Kitt's, but this was settled without disturbance. Now, however, the effects of "the great rebellion" began to be felt across the seas, and disaffection towards the Parliament, and loyalty to the king, were promoted by a number of Royalists who had fled from the disturbance in the mother country.

In 1650 the West Indies were virtually in revolt against the Parliament, and on the 10th of September an embargo was declared in England against vessels bound for the Caribbee Islands, Bermuda, and Virginia. This was followed on the 27th by an Act prohibiting all commerce with these colonies because of their rebellion against the Commonwealth. Virginia and the Bermudas had declared for King Charles the Second after the execution of his father, and sent emissaries to Barbados for the purpose of inciting them to join in the revolt.

ST. KITT'S.
(From Andrews' "West Indies.")

At the commencement of that year Barbados was in a state of ferment, waiting only for the spark which would plunge the island into civil war. Even at this early period the inhabitants of Little England, as it is called, were very loyal, and had something of the conceit which has characterised them ever since. True, there were "Roundheads" on the island, but hitherto party differences had been put in the background—now they were brought into prominence. When the agent of the Bermudians asked that Barbados should declare for the king, the majority were in favour of the project, but, as a matter of course, the others, who were of considerable importance, refused. At first the Royalists went so far as to advocate the banishment of their opponents, but were unable to find any reasonable excuse for such a high-handed proceeding. However they brought in an Act to imprison all who went to a conventicle, or who seduced others from repairing to the Public Congregation or from receiving the Holy Sacrament. For a second offence the penalty was forfeiture of all lands, goods, chattels, and debts by those whom they called "the enemy to the peace of the island."

This was to have been published on April 15, 1650, and kept secret until proclaimed, to prevent trouble. But it appears that Colonel Codrington, a member of the Assembly, divulged it in his cups, for which he was fined twenty thousand pounds of sugar, and banished from the island. A deputation of Parliamentarians then waited upon the Governor, to enter their protest against the new law, and were asked to leave the matter in his hands, as he had to deal with "violent spirits." Finally, the proclamation was delayed, on the ground that there were many errors in the copy, and the two parties stood at bay.