V

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

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.

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.

On the 23rd of April the Roundheads petitioned the Governor to issue his writ for a new Assembly, on the ground that the present body had sat for its full term. This he agreed to do, and thus alienated the Cavaliers, who said he was a most emphatic Roundhead and enemy to the king. Handbills and posters now began to be circulated calling attention to the "damnable designe" of the Independents, of which, they said, Colonel Drax, "that devout zealot (of the deeds of the Devil, and the cause of that seven-headed Dragon at Westminster), is the Agent." One of the writers declared that he should think his best rest but disquiet until he had sheathed his sword in the bowels of the same obnoxious personage.

The Cavaliers were still adding to their numbers by the arrival of more refugees, while Colonel Drax and his friends fell into the background. The new-comers had mostly been ruined by the civil war, and were naturally desirous of doing something to retrieve their fortunes; it followed, therefore, that anything that led to the confiscation of the estates of the obnoxious party would be to their advantage. The Cavaliers set to work to rouse the island by going about on horseback, fully armed, everywhere challenging those they met to drink the health of Charles the Second and confusion to the Independent dogs. This, with the rumours of a Roundhead plot and the various manifestoes, induced the Governor to issue a proclamation declaring that in future if any persons spread such scandalous papers they would be proceeded against as enemies of the public peace, at the same time forbidding any one to take up arms in a hostile manner.

This produced little effect, for the leader of one of the roving bands, Colonel Shelley, refused to disband. On this the Governor issued commissions to raise a militia for the preservation of order, but by the time that a hundred men had been collected an alarm went forth that the Cavaliers were advancing on Bridgetown. This was the 1st of May, and by that time the Cavaliers were prepared to act. Their leader was Colonel Walrond, who, on being sent for by the Governor, and saying they had no evil intention, was allowed to depart. However, they took possession of the town, and then came forward with the demand that all Independents and other disturbers of the peace should be at once disarmed. To this the Governor agreed, provided the well-affected should vouch for their safety. They also stipulated that the magazine on the bridge should be put under their protection, that those who obstructed the peace and laboured to ruin the loyal colonists should be punished, that twenty persons whose names they gave should be forthwith arrested, and that the Governor should speedily call together the Assembly to try them; meanwhile they refused to disperse until these things were done. The Governor could do nothing but accede to these demands, but even then there was something more which they considered the climax—"that our lawful soveraigne Charles the Second be instantly in a solemn manner proclaimed king."

This staggered the Governor, who said it was a matter for the General Assembly, in which opinion he got them at last to agree. However, they were not yet content, but insisted that at the dissolution of the present Assembly only such men as were known to be well-affected to His Majesty and conformers to the Church of England should be chosen and admitted. After that they must be promised an "Act of oblivion" for the lawful taking up of arms, safe-conduct for all officers on legislative business, and, finally, that the Governor must come to them without the companionship of any disaffected person and put himself under their care.

All this was perforce agreed to, and on the 3rd of May Charles the Second was declared king of England, &c., as well as of Barbados, and at the same time the Book of Common Prayer was proclaimed to be the only pattern of true worship.

Behind all this was a fact which no one mentioned, but which probably everybody knew—on the 29th of April Lord Willoughby had arrived in the harbour, bearing a commission as Governor of the Caribbee Islands, from the fugitive King Charles and the Earl of Carlisle. No doubt the whole demonstration was got up on his account, the Cavaliers wanting to have the king proclaimed first, so that there should be no difficulty about the commission. Everything was ready now, and nothing was heard but uproarious drinking of His Majesty's health, the Cavaliers going from house to house and compelling others to follow their example. As for Lord Willoughby, he left the Governor to carry out the stipulated measures, while he went to look after the other islands under his jurisdiction.

Now the Royalists of Barbados began to persecute the leaders of the obnoxious party, beginning with the twenty they had named to the Governor. Some, seeing their danger, had got off to England, but those who remained were sentenced to pay a million pounds of sugar and to be banished. Then nearly a hundred others were indicted and ordered to leave before the 2nd of July, while all their commissions of the peace or in the militia were cancelled. Wives were banished with their husbands, and unless the estate-owners humbly submitted, paid their fines, and appointed well-affected persons as attorneys, their properties were confiscated. Yet with all that, when an attempt was made to get to the bottom of the rumoured plot, no trace of it could be found. Some of the more moderate of the Royalists even began to doubt whether they were not going too far, but they salved their consciences by saying that everything was done in the interest of the king.

When the news arrived in England it created a great stir. In November some merchants and planters interested in the island asked for permission to make reprisals on their own account. They wanted licenses to trade there with five or six able ships, and letters of marque to use in case of obstruction, or a refusal to comply with certain demands. These demands were to repeal all Acts dishonourable to the Commonwealth, to renounce obedience to Charles Stuart, to acknowledge the supreme authority of the Parliament, to banish certain "active incendiaries in the late troubles," and, finally, to recall those who had suffered, so that they might enjoy the same rights as the other inhabitants. A further petition asked for the removal of Lord Willoughby in favour of Edward Winslow, a man of approved fidelity to the Commonwealth.

The Parliamentary Government did not adopt these proposals, as they intended to reduce the island in a regular manner. In January, 1651, a fleet was made ready for this purpose, but being employed in the reduction of the Scilly Islands, it could not be got ready for the West Indies until June following.

Meanwhile Lord Willoughby had returned, and was doing his best to conciliate the Barbadians of both parties. He did not altogether approve of what had been done, but repealed the Acts of sequestration, thus putting the inhabitants in good spirits for the expected invasion. It was rumoured that Prince Rupert was coming out from Marseilles, and this made things appear brighter, encouraging them to put their forts in order.

The English fleet did not actually leave Plymouth until the 5th of August. It was under the command of Sir George Ayscue, who took six or seven merchant vessels under convoy, probably those referred to in the petition. He reached Barbados on the 15th of October, when as yet no news had been heard of Prince Rupert; in fact, that great seaman had been dissuaded from crossing the Atlantic. Fourteen Dutch vessels were captured in Carlisle Bay, the sudden arrival of the fleet preventing their escape.

Willoughby had some six thousand foot and four hundred horse stationed at different parts of the island, and was determined to hold it for the king, looking forward daily to see Prince Rupert arrive. He had heard from a Dutch vessel that the king was marching on London with an army of Scots: this also tended to make his resistance all the more stubborn. From a few Roundheads, who managed to come off in the night, Ayscue learnt this, but he was as equally determined to subdue the island as Willoughby was to defend it.

On being called upon to surrender the island for the use of the Parliament of England, the Governor replied that he acknowledged no supremacy over Englishmen save the king and those having commissions from him, directing the letter to the admiral on board His Majesty's ship the Rainbow. He also said that he had expected some overtures of reparation for the hostile acts upon the ships in the bay. After this defiance nothing was left but to prepare first for a strict blockade, and then to effect a landing. The strength on shore was too great for any open attack, and Ayscue managed to send a proclamation addressed to the freeholders and inhabitants, urging them to accept in time his offers of peace and mercy. In answer to this the Assembly met and passed a declaration to "sticke to" Lord Willoughby and defend the island to the utmost.

In England a great deal of interest was felt in the struggle, and the demand for news of the expedition created a supply giving circumstantial accounts of what had not taken place. One of them was headed, "Bloody news from the Barbados, being a true relation of a great and terrible fight between the Parliament's Navie, commanded by Sir George Ayscue, and the King of Scots' Forces under the command of the Lord Willoughby; with the particulars of the fight, the storming of the Island, the manner how the Parliament's Forces were repulsed and beaten off from Carlisle Bay and the Block House, and the number killed and wounded." And all this before any attempt had been made beyond the blockade!

On the receipt of the news of the battle of Worcester, Ayscue sent another flag of truce to give Willoughby the information, saying that he did so as a friend rather than as an enemy. He was acting in that quality, by stating the true condition of England, and leaving him and his friends to judge of the necessity for due obedience to the State of England; otherwise they would be swallowed up in the destruction so shortly and inevitably coming upon them.

In reply, Willoughby said he had never served his king so much in expectation of prosperity as in consideration of duty, and that he would not be the means of increasing the sad affliction of His Majesty by giving up that island. To this Ayscue rejoined, that if there were such a person as the king, Willoughby's retention of that place signified nothing to his advantage, and therefore the surrender could be small grief to him. He well knew the impossibility of the island subsisting without the patronage of England, and the admiral's great desire was to save it from ruin and destruction.

As Willoughby refused to surrender, Ayscue determined to attack the Hole or James's Town, which he did on the 2nd of November, beating off its defenders, taking thirty prisoners, and spiking the four guns of the fort. On the 1st of December the fleet which had been sent to reduce Virginia arrived, and on the temporary addition of this force, Ayscue again sent to Willoughby, as he stated, for the last time. In reply he was told that the Assembly would consider the matter in two or three days, but this reply did not please the admiral, so he tried to hurry up the decision by landing at Speight's Town. Against the stubborn opposition of twelve hundred men he stormed and took the fort, which he held for two days, ultimately retiring, however, after burning the houses, demolishing the fortifications, and throwing the guns into the sea.

After that the correspondence was continued, Ayscue entreating Willoughby to spare the good people of the island the horrors of war. To this the Governor replied, that they only took up arms in their own defence; the guilt of the blood and ruin would be at the doors of those who brought force to bear. Then the Virginia fleet sailed for its destination, and Ayscue recommenced hostilities by again occupying Speight's Town.

By this time, however, there was a party on the island in favour of peace, and they began to bestir themselves, thus making the Royalists more determined. They put forth a proclamation inviting the inhabitants to endure the troubles of war for a season, rather than by base submission to let the deceitful enemy make them slaves for ever. But the Roundheads now began to assemble under Colonel Modiford at his house, to the number of six hundred men, who declared for the Parliament, and threatened to bring Willoughby to reason, the admiral going so far as to visit them surreptitiously to read his commission. Hearing of this, Willoughby got two thousand four hundred men together and appeared near the house, but did not venture to attack it, as by this time he had become somewhat disheartened.

This brought things to a crisis, and on the 10th of January arrangements were made for a commission from both sides to make arrangements for terms. After a great deal of hesitation on the part of the admiral, the capitulation was at last signed, the articles being exceedingly favourable both to the inhabitants and Lord Willoughby. So lenient were they that Ayscue had to excuse himself to the home authorities for fear that he might have been misunderstood. They were, in short, liberty of conscience, continuation of the old government, and of the old Courts of Justice, no taxation without consent of the Assembly, no confiscations, all suits to be decided on the island, no acts of indemnity, no oaths against their consciences, a temporary cessation of all civil suits, and finally that Lord Willoughby should retain all his private property in the islands as well as in Surinam, with full liberty to go to England. These articles were signed on the 11th of January, 1652, and the "storm in a teapot" came to an end, the Barbadians proudly boasting that they had been able to defy the mighty power of the Commonwealth. Most of the leaders were banished from the island, some going to Surinam, where a colony had been established by Lord Willoughby soon after his arrival in Barbados. Among them was Major Byam, who became Governor, and virtually held the settlement for the king until he came to his own again. This is all the more curious because Cromwell knew the circumstances, yet made no effort to bring the people under submission. At first the settlers established a little Commonwealth of their own, with Major Byam as president, but when his term had expired, instead of giving place to another he declared he had a commission as Governor from the king, although he refused to show the document to any one. With enough Royalists to back him, he thus held office until the Restoration, notwithstanding the complaints of the Parliamentary faction and their requests to the home authorities for redress.

Meanwhile, early in 1652 England went to war with the Dutch, and this seriously interfered with the trade of that nationality in the West Indies. The Navigation Act was another blow to them, although it could not yet be enforced altogether. Cromwell made himself respected in such a manner that peace with Holland was restored in April, 1654, thus leaving him free to carry out his designs against the old enemy—Spain.

Since Queen Elizabeth's time the English Governments had done little in the way of worrying the Spaniards, although pirates had been busy almost without intermission. Now, however, Cromwell was at liberty, and he began to see that they wanted a little correction to prevent their having too much of their own way in America. The Spanish ambassador was cringing enough when he saw what a powerful leader had arisen, and did his best to avert the impending storm. It is even stated that he assured the Protector of his master's friendship, and declared that if he took the Crown of England Spain would be first in her approval. Cromwell was not to be mollified by soft speeches; he had got peace at home, and was determined to have it across the seas as well. He was quite willing to arrange for a treaty, but it must be on his own terms, not at the dictation of Spain. A commission was appointed to meet the ambassador and discuss the grounds of the agreement, and they began at once with the West Indies. A long list of depredations was produced for which the English demanded satisfaction before going farther. The English had been treated as enemies wherever the Spaniards met them in the West Indies, even when going to and from their own plantations, notwithstanding the former treaty, and the Commission insisted on a proper indemnity. The English must be free to trade everywhere—in fact the old claim of Spain to the whole of America must be finally abandoned.

The Spanish ambassador replied that the inquisition and trade to the West Indies were his master's two eyes, and that nothing different from the practice of former times could be permitted. On hearing this Cromwell, seeing that neither indemnity for the past nor promises of amendment in the future could be obtained, prepared for war, and commenced by fitting out an expedition to conquer Hispaniola.

In December, 1654, we find the first mention of a special service under the command of Generals Penn and Venables, and early in the following year the fleet sailed for Barbados. With five thousand men from England, and as many from the West Indies, the expedition arrived near St. Domingo on the 13th of April, 1655, frightening the inhabitants so much that they fled to the woods on its approach. However, the affair was so badly managed that no benefit accrued from following the example of Drake, which appears to have been the object of the leaders. Like the great Elizabethan hero, they landed at a distance from the town with the intention of marching along the shore, but instead of landing ten miles off they went as far as thirty. For four days the troops wandered through the mangrove bushes, without guides, and even without provisions, thus giving the runaway Spaniards time to rally from their fright and come out after them. Weary, entangled in the swamps, and utterly unfit to cope with an enemy, the English became an easy prey; the slaughter was considerable, and it was even stated that those killed were mostly shot in the back while trying to escape.

Unwilling to attempt anything further in Hispaniola, Penn and Venables took off the dispirited remnant and sailed for Jamaica, hoping to do something there to prevent failure altogether. Not that there were any laurels to be gained in that direction, for the inhabitants only numbered three thousand, and half of these were negro slaves. A few shots were fired, and then the inhabitants took to flight, leaving the English in possession of the island. A capitulation was agreed upon with the old Spanish Governor, who was brought in a hammock to sign it, but many of the people took to the woods with their slaves, and refused to be bound by the articles. A body of two thousand men was then sent to scour the interior and bring them back, but they could find nothing save great herds of wild cattle. Afterwards, in pure wantonness, the churches and religious buildings were demolished, the cattle killed or driven far away, and the provision grounds devastated, with the result that the invaders were soon starving. In less than a month two thousand were sick, many had died, and the remainder had become mutinous. Altogether the whole affair was so badly managed that Cromwell became almost mad at the news, and sent both commanders to the Tower on their return.

However, Jamaica was captured, and for the first time in the history of the West Indies a Spanish possession went into the hands of another nation. Some thought the island of no importance as compared with Hispaniola—it was certainly of little value to the Spaniards. However, a few English people foresaw something of its future importance, and did their best to develop the island. In October Cromwell issued a proclamation offering certain advantages to settlers from the other islands, or from England, so that it might be occupied as soon as possible. It stated that by the providence of God Jamaica had come into the possession of the State, and that they were satisfied of its fertility and commodiousness for trade; it had therefore been resolved to plant it. To this end it was made known to the people of the English islands and colonies the encouragements offered to those who removed their habitations there within two years from the 29th of September, 1656. Twenty acres of land would be granted to every adult, and ten for each child, they would have freedom to hunt wild cattle and horses, be given the privilege of mining except for gold and silver, and freedom from taxes for three years.

It resulted from this that many planters from Barbados and St. Kitt's went over, and in a very few years Jamaica was more prosperous than it had ever been while in the possession of Spain. In November, 1656, Cromwell ordered the Scotch Government to apprehend all known idle masterless robbers and vagabonds, male or female, and to transport them there, and at the same time the Council of State ordered that a thousand girls and as many young men should be enlisted in Ireland for the same purpose. As for the adventurers who went with the expedition, they were reported as being so lazy "that it could not enter into the heart of any Englishman that such blood should run in the veins of his countrymen"—they were so unworthy, slothful, and basely secure, out of a strange kind of spirit desiring rather to die than live. As for planting, little was done by them, although every possible inducement and encouragement was given.

Meanwhile letters of marque were issued to privateers for the West Indies, which drove the Spaniards to send their treasure from Peru to Buenos Ayres, a route that had been abandoned since the time of Queen Elizabeth. Now also they began to make efforts for the recovery of Jamaica, and in May, 1658, thirty companies of infantry, under the command of the late Governor, landed on the north side of the island. Here in a small harbour they entrenched themselves, and built a little fort before their presence became known to the English. However, Governor D'Oyley at last heard of the invasion, but it was nearly two months after their arrival before he could proceed to approach them by sea. When he arrived, however, with seven hundred and fifty men, he at once stormed their fortress and drove them to their vessels, in which they fled to Cuba. This put an end to the matter; but the old Governor returned, and lived with the remnant of the Spaniards and their slaves in the mountains.

Now at last even the Pope had to acknowledge other sovereignty than that of Spain, and this he did in a letter to Father Fontaine, of the Dominican Mission, on the 25th of July, 1658. Therein he acknowledged the king of France as ruler of the conquests and colonies his subjects had made in the American islands. Thus was the Bull of partition at last cancelled by the successor of its original promulgator, and the ground for the exclusive claim to America cut away. At this time France was also at war with Spain, but the following year a treaty was signed, and in 1660, on the restoration of Charles the Second, peace was restored with England.

At the first private audience of the Spanish ambassador with the king, he delivered a memorial demanding the restoration of Jamaica to his master, on the ground that it had been taken by his rebel subjects, contrary to the treaty between the two Crowns. Instead of doing this, however, Charles despatched a vessel with letters to the Governors of the Caribbee islands, asking them to encourage all persons willing to transplant themselves to the larger islands. At the same time the Royal African Company, the great slave-trading corporation of that time, was asked to make Jamaica its headquarters for the sale of negroes. Then it was arranged to send women from England to be wives for the planters, Newgate and Bridewell to be spared as much as possible, so that poor maids might have a chance, with whom it was stated that few English parishes were unburdened.

On the 1st of December, 1660, King Charles the Second made a move which must be considered as of the greatest importance to the development of the British Colonial Empire—he founded the "Council for foreign plantations," which later developed into the Colonial Office. This Council were to inform themselves of the state of the plantations and of how they were governed, keeping copies of all grants in a book. They were to write to every Governor asking for exact accounts of their proceedings, the nature of their laws and government, as well as statistics. They must establish a correspondence with the colonies, so that the king might be informed of all complaints, their wants, what they cultivated, their commodities, and their trade, so that all might be regulated upon common grounds and principles. They must adopt means for rendering them and England mutually helpful, and bring them into a more uniform government, with a better distribution of justice. Especial care was to be taken for the execution of the Navigation Act, and consideration given to the best means of providing servants, to which end care was to be taken that no persons were forced or enticed away by unlawful means. Those willing to be transported were, however, to be encouraged, and a legal course was to be settled for sending over vagrants and others who were noxious and unprofitable in England. Learned and orthodox ministers were also to be sent, and instructions given for regulating and repressing the debaucheries of planters and servants. The Council were also to consider how the natives and slaves might be invited to, and made capable of, baptism in the Christian faith, and finally to dispose of all matters relating to the good government, improvement, and management of the plantations.

Thus England commenced her great career of colonisation, the results of which we see to-day. While taking all due account of Virginia and New England, we cannot but note that it was in the West Indies where the "prentice hand" was first tried. Jamaica was the main object of these provisions—to that island the king's attention had been specially directed, and it was here that many difficulties had to be encountered before it could be made a worthy appendage of the Crown. Most of the other islands were in the hands of private persons or companies, while this was under the control of the State. No matter that the island had been annexed by rebels, Charles the Second was determined to hold it fast for England, in spite of all the protests of Spain.