Chapter 2 CONQUEST OF PANAMA.

March from Chagres-Famine-Ambuscade of Indians-Wild bulls driven down upon them-Victory-Battle of the Forts-Takes the City-Burns part of it-Cruelties-Debauchery-Retreat with prisoners-Virtue of the Spanish prisoner, and her sufferings-Ransom-Division of booty-Treason of Morgan-Escapes by night to Jamaica-Dispersion of the Fleet-Morgan's subsequent fate.

The bodies of their comerades, who had died that they who survived might conquer, were buried, not without some tears even from these rude men, in large (plague pit) graves, dug by the prisoners. The women were violated in the first fury of the sack. During their plunder they found a great quantity of provisions and ammunitions stored up for the use of the fleet. Their next act was to repair the fort and render it tenable.

Morgan, instantly informed of the fall of Chagres, did not remain long behind. Having first collected all the Indian wheat and cassava he could carry, he embarked his prisoners and provisions, taking with him Don Joseph Ramirez de Leiba, the governor, and the chief officers. The cannon he spiked or threw into the sea, in places where he might recover them, intending to return and fortify the place, as a stronghold if his design on Panama failed. The forts, and church, and house he fired, with the exception of the castle of Santa Teresa.

In sailing to Chagres a storm arose and dispersed his vessels, keeping them many days at sea. The admiral, always watchful in danger, suffered himself for a moment to sleep in the hour of prosperity. When he approached the river mouth and saw the English flag floating from the blackened walls, he could not restrain the heedless joy of his crew-not waiting for the pilot canoe that was putting out to warn them of their danger, he drove on the sunken rock at the foot of the castle hill. His own and three other vessels sank, yet the crews and cargoes were all saved, and but for a strong "norther" the ships themselves would have been preserved.

Brought into the castle with acclamations and hearty congratulations at his escape, Morgan employed the Spanish prisoners from St. Catherine's in repairing the palisading of the fort, carefully destroying all thatched sheds for fear of fire. He then chose a garrison by lot, and divided the stores. He heard with delight the details of the victory, and lamented the absent dead and the many brave men that had shared so often his own hopes and fears. His next movement was to seize some chatten, or small Spanish vessels that were still in the river. They were small craft that went to and fro between Chagres and Porto Bello, or Nicaragua, or plied with merchandise up and down the river. They mounted six guns, two iron, and four small brass, and were navigated by six men. He also took four small frigates of fourteen and eight guns, and all the canoes he could lay hands on, requiring them for the expedition. He left behind him 100 men, under command of Captain Le Maurice, and 150 men to guard the ships.

For Panama, Morgan took with him 1300 of the best armed and the most robust of his band, five boats with artillery, and thirty-two canoes. He imprudently carried little provisions, expecting to obtain plenty from the Spaniards they should kill in the ambuscades. In spite of the recent victory, and of Morgan's certainty of conquest, many of the Buccaneers were less sanguine than on former expeditions. The Spanish prisoners had succeeded in alarming them by rumours of the dangers and intricacy of the road, and the ambuscades that had been two months in preparation. Some, more superstitious than the rest, thought the wreck of Morgan's ship, and the severe loss at Chagres, bad omens for their success at Panama. But these were mocked at by the rest, as white-livered, and Morgan having divided the provisions between the garrison and the St. Catherine prisoners, reviewed his men, and examined himself their arms and ammunition. He quieted their fears and spoke of victory as already obtained. He exhorted them to show more than usual courage, in order to return as soon as possible rich and glorious to Jamaica. With a shout of "Long live the King of England, and long live Henry Morgan," they began their march towards the doomed city on the 18th of January, 1670.

The first day they advanced only six leagues to Rio de los Bra?os, where they got out of their canoes to sleep on shore, being crippled with overcrowding in the boats. They could have brought no provisions, for few had any food that day, but a pipe of tobacco "to stop the orifice of the stomach." They could find nothing in the deserted plantations, where even the unripe fruits had been plucked and the roots pulled up before their arrival. The men longed to fight, in order that they might eat. By noon of the next day they reached Cruz de Juan Gallego, where they were obliged to leave their canoes; the river was very dry and shallow from want of rain, and much impeded with fallen trees, but their hopes were excited by the guide's intelligence, that about two leagues further the roads grew better. Here they left their boats with 160 men to guard them, as a resource in case of defeat, giving them strict injunctions not to land for fear of ambuscades in the neighbouring woods, which were so thick as to seem impenetrable. Finding the forest almost impassable, Morgan ordered a few of the canoes to be rowed, though with immense labour, to a place called Cedro Bueno, further up the river, taking half the men at a time and returning for the rest, so by nightfall all the men were once more united. From discovering no ambuscades, in spite of all the wishes of these hungry soldiers, it was supposed that the Spanish spies, willing to avoid a fight, had frightened their officers by exaggerating the number of the adventurers. On the third day Morgan sent forward some guides, who could find no road, the country being flat, inundated, and marshy. The men, who had scarcely eaten anything since their departure, grew faint and hungry, and a few of them gathered the leaves from the forest trees. It being night before they could pass the river, they slept on the bank, exposed, half-clothed as they were, to the tropical damps and cold.

The fourth day's march they advanced in divisions; the largest went by land, the smaller in canoes. The guides were always kept two musket shots in advance, to give notice of ambuscades, and in hopes of capturing stragglers who might furnish intelligence. But the Spaniards had also scouts, very wary, and very "dexterous" in giving notice of all accidents, frequently bringing the Panama men intelligence of the Buccaneers' approach six hours before the enemy arrived. About noon the army reached a post named Torna Cavallos, so called probably from the roughness of the road, and at this spot the guide of the canoes cried out that he saw an ambuscade. With infinite joy, the hungry men, thirsting for blood, flew to arms, knowing that the Spaniards always went luxuriously provided with food, and knowing that a dead Spaniard could want no more provender. As soon as they came within sight of the entrenchment, which was shaped like a half-moon, and the palisading formed of entire trees, they uttered a dreadful shout, and, driven on by rage and hunger, began to race like starved wolves, seeing which could first cross swords with the enemy, whom they believed to be about 400 strong. But their hearts fell within them when they found the place a mere deserted rampart, and all the provisions, but a few crumbs which lay scattered about, either burnt or carried off. Some leather bags lay here and there, as if left in a hasty retreat. Enraged at this, they at once pulled down the Spanish huts, and cutting the leather bags, tore them up for food. Quarrels then arose for the largest messes, but before they could well finish this unsavoury banquet, the drum sounded for the march. About 500 Spaniards seem to have held these entrenchments, and many of the men threatened to devour the first fugitive they could meet with. About night they reached another deserted ambuscade, called Torna Munni, equally bare of food, and the remainder of the bags were now devoured. Those fortunate enough to obtain a strip first soaked slices of it in water, next beat it between two stones, then scraped off the hair with their hunters' knives, and, roasting it in the fire, ate it leisurely in small pieces. "I can assure the reader," says ?xmelin, "that a man can live on this fare, but he can hardly get very fat." Frequent draughts of water (which, by good fortune, they had at hand) seasoned this not very palatable food of men accustomed to revel on venison and brandy. "Some who were never out of their mothers' kitchens," says Esquemeling, "may ask how these pirates could eat and digest those pieces of leather, so hard and dry, whom I answer, that could they once experience what hunger, or rather famine, is, they would find the way as the pirates did."

The fifth day at noon they arrived at a place called Barbacoa, where there were more deserted barricades, and the adjacent plantations were equally bare of either man, animal, or plant. Searching with all the zeal and perseverance of hungry men, they found at last, buried in the floor of a cave lately hewn out of the rock, two sacks of flour, two jars of wine, and some plantains, and Morgan generously divided these among the most exhausted of his troops, some being now nearly dead with famine. The flour they mixed with water, and, wrapping the dough in banana leaves, baked it in the fire. Somewhat refreshed, they renewed their march with increased skill and vigour. The lagging men they placed in the canoes, till they reached at night some deserted plantations known as the Tabernillas, where they slept.

On the sixth day they marched slowly, after resting a time from real weakness, some of the strongest being sent into the woods to pluck berries and pull roots, many even eating leaves and grass. The same day at noon they arrived at a plantation. Eagerly foraging here, but not expecting to find anything, they turned a little from the road, and came upon a barn full of maize in the husk. Beating down the door, they fell upon it and devoured it as rapaciously as a herd of swine, till they fell off satiated. A distribution was then made of it to each man, for hunger does not care for cooking. Loaded with this grain they continued their march in high spirits for about two hours, when they came suddenly on about 200 Indians, and soon after passed a deserted ambuscade. Those who had maize still left threw it away, thinking that the Spaniards and better food were at hand. These archers were on the opposite side of the river. The Buccaneers, firing, killed a few, and pursued the others as far as Santa Cruz. The nimblest escaped by swimming, and two or three adventurers, who waded after them, were pierced with arrows at the ford. The Indians, as they fled, hooted-"Ah perros Ingleses, à la savanah, à la savanah:" "English dogs, English dogs, come to the savannah." Passing the river they were now compelled to begin their march on the opposite side. There was little sleep that night, but great dejection, and murmurs arose against Captain Morgan and his conduct. He was blamed for not having brought provisions, and for not having yet met the Spaniards; condemned for irreconcilable errors, and reviled for even his past successes. Some declared they would return home, others would willingly have done so, yet were afraid to retreat; but a large party declared they would rather die than go back a step. One of the guides, perhaps bribed by Morgan, promised that it should not be long before they met with people from whom they should derive no small advantage, and this comforted them. A tinge of superstition would have soon converted this into one of those prophecies by which Cromwell and Cortes both consoled their desponding troopers.

On the seventh morning, expecting enemies, the men all cleaned their arms, and every one discharged his musket and pistols without ball to let the Spaniards hear they were coming, and that their ammunition was not damaged. Leaving Santa Cruz, where they had rested, they crossed the river in their canoes, and arrived at the town of Cruz.

At some distance from Cruz they had beheld to their great joy a great smoke rising above the roofs, which they thought arose from kitchen chimneys, and quickening their pace they began to laugh, and shout, and leap,-joking at the Spanish waste of fuel, and saying, "the Spanish cooks are roasting meat for our dinner when we have mastered their masters;" but as the smoke grew thicker, they began to think that the enemy were burning some houses that interfered with the fire of the entrenchments.

Two hours after, on arriving panting and hot at Cruz, they found the place deserted and stripped, and no meat, but many fires, for every Spaniard had burnt his own house, and only the royal store-house and stables were left standing. A few crackling ruins were all that remained of the great halfway house between Chagres and Panama, for here the Chagres merchandise was always landed and transported to Panama on the backs of mules, being distant only twenty-six Spanish leagues from the river of Chagres, and eight from Panama. The disappointed Buccaneers spent the remainder of the day at Cruz in seeking food and resting. Every cat and dog was soon killed and eaten, for the cattle had been all driven off. Morgan, growing now more strict in discipline, gave orders that no party of less than 100 men should leave the town. Five or six Englishmen who disobeyed the order were killed by the Indians. In the king's stables fifteen or sixteen jars of Peruvian wine were found, and a leather sack full of biscuit. Morgan, afraid that his men would fall into excesses, spread a report that the Spaniards had poisoned the wine-a report confirmed by the violent sickness of all who drank of it; although half-starved men, fed for a week on vegetable refuse, would have been injured by any excess. It was, however, eagerly drunk, and would have been had there been death in every cup. This sickness detained them a day at Cruz. The canoes, being now useless, were sent back, guarded by sixty men, to join the other boats, one alone being hid in a thicket for fear of any emergency or any necessity arising, and to transmit intelligence to the vessels. He feared that, if left at Cruz, they might be captured, and would at least require an extra guard.

On the eighth day at morning Morgan reviewed his troop, and found he had 1100 able and resolute men still at his back. He persuaded them that their comerade who was carried off by the Indians had returned, having only lost his way in the woods, fearing they might be discouraged at his disappearance. He then chose a band of the best marksmen as a forlorn hope, and a "hundred of these men," says ?xmelin, "are worth six hundred of any other nation." He divided the remainder into a van and wings, knowing that he should have to pass many places where not more than two men could pass abreast.

After ten hours' march they arrived at a place called Quebrada Obscura, a dark wooded gorge where the sunlight rarely entered. Here, on a sudden, a shower of 300 or 400 arrows poured down upon them, killing eight or nine men, and wounding ten. These arrows came from an Indian ambuscade hid on a wooded and rocky mountain, perforated by a natural arch, through which only one laden beast could pass. The Buccaneers, though they could see nothing but rocks and trees, instantly returned the fire, and two Indians rolled down into the path. One of these, who appeared to be a chief, for he wore a coronet of variegated feathers, attempted to stab an English adventurer with his javelin, but a companion, parrying the thrust with his sabre, slew the Indian. This brave man was, it is supposed, the leader of the ambuscade, for the savages seeing him fall took at once to flight, and never discharged another shaft. As they entered a wood the rest of the Indians fled to seize the next height, from whence they might observe them and harass their march. The Buccaneers found them too swift to capture, and pursued them in vain: but two or three of the wounded fugitives were found dead in the road. A few armed and disciplined men could have made this pass good against a hundred, but these Indians were now scattered and without a leader, and they had only fired at random, and in haste, through trees and thickets that intercepted their arrows. On leaving this defile the Buccaneers entered a broad prairie, where they rested while the wounded were tended. At a long distance before them they could see the Indians on a rocky eminence, commanding the road where they must pass. Fifty active men were dispatched to take them in the rear in the hopes of obtaining some prisoners, but all in vain, for the Indians were not only more agile but knew all the passes. Two hours after they were seen at about two gunshots' distance, on the same eminence from which they had been just driven, while the Buccaneers were now on an opposite height, and between them lay a wood. The Buccaneers supposed that a Spanish ambuscade was hid here, for whenever they came near enough the Indians cried out "à la savanah, à la savanah, cornudos perros Ingleses:" "To the savannah, to the savannah, you cuckold English dogs." Morgan sent 100 men to search this wood, and upon this the Spaniards and Indians came down from the mountain as if to attack them, but appeared no more.

About night, a great rain falling, the Buccaneers marched faster, in order to prevent their arms getting wet, but they could find no houses to barrack in, for the Indians had burnt them all and driven away the cattle, hoping to starve out the men whom they could not drive out. They left the main road after diligent search, and found a few shepherds' huts, but too few to shelter all their company; they therefore piled their arms, and chose a small number from each company to guard them. Those who slept in the open air endured much hardship, the rain not ceasing all night. They made temporary sheds, which they covered with boughs, in order to sleep under a shelter, however imperfect; and sentinels were placed, Morgan being afraid of the Indians, who chose wet nights for their onslaughts, when fire-arms were often useless.

Next morning very early, being the ninth of their tedious journey, they recommenced their march, Morgan bidding them all discharge their guns and then reload them, for fear of the wet having damped the powder. The fresh air of the morning, clear after the storm, was still about them, and the clouds had not yet yielded to the tropical sun as they pushed on over a path more difficult than before. In about two hours' time a band of twenty Spaniards began to appear in the distance, and the Indians were also visible, but Morgan could obtain no prisoners, though he offered a reward of 300 crowns for every Spaniard brought in. When pursued the enemy hid themselves in caves and eluded all search.

At last, toiling slowly up a high mountain, the adventurers unexpectedly beheld from the top the South Sea glittering in the distance. This caused them as great joy as the sight of "Thalatta" did to the soldiers of Xenophon. They thought their expedition now completed, for to them victory was a certainty. They could discern upon the sea, never before beheld, a large ship and six small boats setting forth from Panama to the islands of Tavoga and Tavogilla, which were only six leagues distant. Fortune smiled upon them to-day, for, descending this mountain, they came into a grassy prairie valley, full of all sorts of cattle, which were being pursued by mounted Spaniards, who fled at the sight of the Buccaneers. Upon these animals Morgan's men rushed with the avidity of half-starved hunters, the eagerness of sailors to obtain fresh meat, and all the haste that brave men exhibit to get at an enemy. One shot a horse, another felled a cow, but the greater part slaughtered the mules, which were the most numerous. Some kindled fires, others collected wood, and the strongest hunted the cattle, while the invalids slew, and skinned, and flayed. The whole plain was soon alight with a hundred fires. The hungry men cut off lumps of flesh, carbonadoed them in the flame, and ate them half raw with incredible haste and ferocity. "They resembled," Esquemeling says, "rather cannibals than Christians, the blood running down their beards to the middle of their bodies." But no hunger, no fear, no passion threw Morgan off his guard. Hungry and weary himself, and sympathising with his men's hunger, he saw the danger of this reckless gluttony, which produced a reaction of inertness as dangerous as intoxication. Dreading surprise, for he was surrounded by enemies, he beat a false alarm, and seizing their arms, his men, ashamed of their excess, renewed their march. The remainder of the meat, half-roasted or quite raw, they strung to their bandoliers. "The very look of these men," says Esquemeling, "was enough to have terrified the boldest, for we know that in love as well as war, the eyes are the soonest conquered." Morgan, anxious at not having yet obtained a prisoner as guide, again despatched a vanguard of fifty men, who about evening saw in the distance 500 Spaniards, who shouted to them they knew not what.

Soon after, almost at dusk, mounting a small eminence, they saw a better sight than even the South Sea-the highest steeples of Panama, bright in the sunset; upon this, like the German soldiers at the sight of the Rhine, the Buccaneers gave three cheers, to show their extreme joy, leaping and shouting, and throwing their hats into the air as if they had already won the victory. At the same time the drums beat stormily and proudly, and each man shot off his piece, while the red flag was displayed and waved in defiance of the Spaniard, and high above all the trumpet sounded.

The camp was pitched for the night by the men, who waited impatiently for the morning when the battle should join; with equal pride and courage 200 mounted Spaniards shouted in return as they dashed up within musket shot, "To-morrow, to-morrow, ye dogs, we shall meet in the savannah;" and as they ended, their trumpet sounded clearer than even that of Morgan's. These horsemen were soon joined by several companies of infantry and several squadrons of cavalry, who wheeled round them within cannon shot. These troops had been despatched when the sounds of the Buccaneers' approach reached the gates of the city. There were still two hours of light, but Morgan determined not to fight till early in the morning, when he might be able to move freely in the unknown country, and when there would be a whole clear, bright day for the battle. As night drew on all the Spaniards retired to the city, excepting seven or eight troopers, who hovered about to watch the enemy's motions and give the alarm, if a night attack was contemplated. On his side Morgan placed double sentinels, and every now and then ordered false alarms to be beat to keep his men on the alert. Those who had any meat left ate it raw, as they had often done when hunters. No fires were allowed to be kindled, and the men lying, ready armed, on the grass, waited eagerly for the daylight. 120 cavaliers again joined the Spanish scouts, and affected to maintain a strict blockade, and the city all night played with its biggest guns upon the camp, but being at so great a distance did little harm to the Buccaneers.

At daybreak of the tenth day of their march the Spaniards beat the Diane, and Morgan, replying heartily, began with great eagerness to push forward to the city, the Spaniards wheeling cautiously around his wings. One of the guides warned Morgan against the high road, which he knew would be blocked up and crowded with ambuscades, and the army defiled into a wood to the right, where the passage was so difficult that none but Buccaneers could have forced a way, "very irksome indeed," says Esquemeling. The Spaniards, completely baffled and astonished by this diversion, left their batteries in a hurry, and, without any distinct plan of attack, crowded out into the plain. After two hours' march the Buccaneers reached the top of a small hill. From this eminence they could now see their goal, and Panama, with all the roofs that hid its treasure, lay before them. Below, on the plain, they might also discern the Spanish army drawn up in battalia, awaiting their descent. Even Esquemeling admits that the forces seemed numerous. "There were two squadrons of cavalry, four regiments of foot, and a still more terrible enemy, a huge number of wild bulls, roaring and tossing their horns, driven by a great number of Indians, and a few negroes and mounted matadors." The historian, more truthful in his confessions than his boasts, says, "They were surprised with fear, much doubting the fortune of the day; yea, few or none there were but wished themselves at home, or at least free from the obligation of that engagement, it so nearly concerning their lives. Having been for some time wavering in their minds, they at last reflected on the strait they had brought themselves into, and that now they must either fight resolutely or die, for no quarter could be expected from an enemy on whom they had committed so many cruelties. Hereupon they encouraged one another, resolving to conquer or spend the last drop of their blood."

They then divided themselves into three battalions, sending before 200 Buccaneers, very dexterous at their guns, who descended the hill, marching directly upon the Spaniards, and the battle closed. The Spanish cavalry uttered cries of joy, as if they were going to a bull-fight. The infantry shouted "Viva el rey!" and the vari-coloured silks of their doublets glistened in the sun. The Buccaneers, giving three cheers, charged upon the enemy. The forlorn hope Morgan despatched against the cavalry and the bulls. The cavalry galloped forward to meet them, but, the ground being marshy, they could not advance with speed, and sank one by one before the unceasing dropping fire of 200 Buccaneers, who fell on one knee and poured in a full volley of shot, the foot and horse in vain trying to break through this hot line of flame and death. The bulls proved as fatal to those who employed them, as the elephants to Porus. Driven on the rear of the Buccaneers, they took fright at the noise of the battle, a few only broke through the English companies, and trampled the red colours under foot, but these were soon shot by the old hunters; a few fled to the savannah, and the rest tore back and carried havoc through the Spanish ranks.

The firing lasted for two hours; at the end of that time the cavalry and infantry had separated, and the troopers had fled, only about fifty of their number succeeding in escaping. The infantry, discouraged at their defeat, and despairing of success, fired off one more volley, and then threw down their arms; the victory was won. Morgan, having no cavalry, could not pursue, and a mountain soon hid the fugitives from the Buccaneers' sight, who would not follow, expecting the flight was a mere decoy to lure them into an ambuscade. The Buccaneers, weary and faint, threw themselves down to rest. A few Spaniards, found hiding in the bushes by the sea-shore, were at once slain, and several cordeliers belonging to the army, being dragged before Morgan, were pistolled in spite of all their cries and entreaties. A Spanish captain of cavalry was taken prisoner by the English musketeers, who had hitherto given no quarter, and confessed that the governor of Panama had led out that morning 2000 men, 200 bulls, 1450 horse, and twenty-four companies of foot, 100 men in each, sixty Indians, and some negroes. In the city, he said, were many trenches and batteries, and at the entrance a fort with fifty men and eight brass guns. The women and wealth had all been sent to Tavoga, and 600 men with twenty-eight pieces of cannon were inside the town, defended by ramparts of flour sacks. The ambuscade had been waiting fifteen days in the savannah, expecting Morgan.

On reviewing their men, the English found a much greater number of killed and wounded than they had expected, so Esquemeling confesses, but does not give the number. ?xmelin puts the loss at only two killed and two wounded, an incredible statement, trustworthy as he generally is. The Spaniards lost 600 men.

"The pirates, nothing discouraged," says the former historian, "seeing their number so diminished, but rather filled with greater pride, perceiving what huge advantage they had obtained against their enemies, having rested some time, prepared to march courageously towards the city, plighting their oaths one to another, that they would fight till not a man was left alive. With this courage they recommenced their march, either to conquer or be conquered, carrying with them all the prisoners."

They avoided the high road from Vera Cruz, on which the Spaniards had placed a battery of eight pieces of cannon, and selecting that from Porto Bello, they advanced to the town before the people could rally, and while the exaggerated rumours of the defeat were still uncontradicted. Trembling fugitives filled the streets, and terror was in every face.

The Spaniards fought desperately, but without hope. In spite of Morgan's endeavour to maintain strict discipline, his men began to undervalue the enemy, and to advance straggling and reckless. The Spaniards, observing this, fired a broadside, killing twenty-five or thirty of the vanguard at the first discharge, and wounding nearly as many, but before they could reload were overpowered and slain at their guns, the Buccaneers stabbing all whom they met.

Of this attack, Esquemeling gives the following graphic but rambling account: "They found much difficulty in their approach to the city, for within the town the Spaniards had placed many great guns at several quarters, some charged with small pieces of iron, and others with musket bullets. With all these they saluted the pirates at their approaching, and gave them full and frequent broadsides, firing at them incessantly, so that unavoidably they shot at every step great numbers of men. But neither these manifest dangers of their lives, nor the sight of so many as dropped continually at their sides, could deter them from advancing, and gaining ground every moment on the enemy; and though the Spaniards never ceased to fire and act the best they could for their defence, yet they were forced to yield after three hours' combat, and the pirates having possessed themselves, killed and destroyed all that attempted in the least to oppose them."

Morgan was now master of Panama, as he had been of St. Catherine's, la Rancheria, Maracaibo, and Gibraltar, but his vigilance did not yet relax. As soon as the first fury of their entrance was over, he assembled his men, and commanded them, under great penalties, not to drink or taste any wine, as he had been informed by a prisoner that it had been poisoned by the Spaniards. Though much wealth had been hidden, great warehouses of merchandise, they rejoiced to find, were still well stocked with silks, cloths, and linens. Morgan's only fear now was, that with so small a body of men as remained to him, the Spaniards might rally, or his men, grown intoxicated by success and intent on plunder, be cut off without resistance. Having placed guards at all the important points of defence within and without the city, he ordered twenty-five men to seize a boat laden with merchandise, that owing to the low water in the harbour could not put out to sea. The command of this vessel he gave to an English captain.

The houses of Panama were built chiefly of cedar, and a few of stone.

Fortunately, Michael Scott sketches for us nearly the whole scenery of Morgan's march. One side of the harbour of Chagres is formed, he says, by a small promontory that runs 500 yards into the sea. This bright little bay looks upon an opposite shore, long and muddy, and covered with mangroves to the water's brink. On the uttermost bluff is a narrow hill, with a fort erected on its apex. The rock is precipitous on three sides. The river of Chagres is about 100 yards across, and very deep. It rolls sluggishly along, through a low, swampy country. It is covered down to the water with thick sedges and underwood, and where the water is stagnating, generates mosquitoes and fevers. The gigantic trees grow close to the water, and are laced together by black, snake-like withes. Here and there, black, slimy banks of mud slope out near the shore, and on these, monstrous alligators roll or sleep, like logs of rotting drift-wood. For some miles below Cruz, where the river ceases to be navigable by canoes, oars are laid aside, and long poles used to propel the boats, like punts, over the shoals. Panama is distant about seven leagues from Cruz. The roads are only passable for mules: in some places it has been hewn out of the rock, and zig-zags along the face of hills, in parts scarcely passable for two persons meeting.

"The scenery on each side is very beautiful, as the road winds for the most part amongst steeps, overshadowed by magnificent trees, among which birds of all sizes, and of the most gorgeous plumage, are perpetually glancing, while a monkey every here and there sits grimacing and chattering overhead. The small, open savannahs gradually grow larger, and the clear spaces widen, until the forest you have been travelling under breaks into beautiful clumps of trees, like those of a gentleman's park, and every here and there are placed clear pieces of water, spreading out full of pond-turtle, and short grass, that sparkles in the dew."

As you approach the town, the open spaces become more frequent, until at length you gain a rising ground, about three miles from Panama, where the view is enchanting. Below lies the city, and the broad Pacific, dotted with ships, lies broad and glassy beyond.

Basil Hall, an accurate but less poetical observer, sketches the bay of Panama, its beach fringed with plantations shaded by groves of oranges, figs, and limes, the tamarinds surmounting all but the feathery tops of the cocoa-nut trees; the ground hidden with foliage, among which peep cane-built huts and canoes pulling to shore. Tavoga he describes as a tangle of trees and flowers. "The houses of the city, very curious and magnificent," says Esquemeling, "and richly adorned with paintings and hangings, of which a part only had been removed." The buildings were all stately, and the streets broad and well arranged. There were within the walls eight monasteries, a cathedral, and an hospital, attended by the religious. The churches and monasteries were richly adorned with paintings, and in the subsequent fire may have perished some of the masterpieces of Titian, Murillo, or Velasquez. The gold plate and fittings of these buildings the priests had concealed. The number of rich houses was computed at 2000, and the smaller shops, &c., at 5000 additional. The grandest buildings in the town were the Genoese warehouses connected with the slave trade; there were also long rows of stables, where the horses and mules were kept that were used to convey the royal plate from the South to the North Pacific Ocean. Before the city, like offerings spread before a throne, lay rich plantations and pleasant gardens.

Panama was the city to which all the treasures of Peru were annually brought. The plate fleet, laden with bars of gold and silver, arrived here at certain periods brimming with the crown wealth, as well as that of private merchants. It returned laden with the merchandise of Panama and the Spanish main, to be sold in Peru and Chili, and still oftener with droves of negro slaves that the Genoese imported from the coast of Guinea to toil and die in the Peruvian mines. So wealthy was this golden city that more than 2,000 mules were employed in the transport of the gold and silver from thence to Porto Bello, where the galleons were loaded. The merchants of Panama were proverbially the richest in the whole Spanish West Indies. The Governor of Panama was the suzerain of Porto Bello, of Nata, Cruz, Veragua, &c., and the Bishop of Panama was primate of the Terra Firma, and suffragan to the Archbishop of Peru. The district of Panama was the most fertile and healthy of all the Spanish colonies, rich in mines, and so well wooded that its ship-timber peopled with vessels both the northern and the southern seas; its land yielded full crops, and its broad savannahs pastured innumerable herds of wild cattle.

The Buccaneers found the booty in the half-devastated town ample beyond their expectations, in spite of all that had been destroyed, buried, or removed. The stores were still full of wealth, which not even a month of alarm had given the merchants time to remove to their overcharged vessels. Some rooms were choked with corn, and others piled high with iron, tools, plough-shares, &c., for Peru. In many was found "metal more attractive," in the shape of wine, olive oil, and spices, while silks, cloths, and linen lay around in costly heaps.

Morgan, still afraid of surprise, resorted to a reckless scheme to avert the danger. The very night he entered Panama he set fire to a few of the chief buildings, and before morning the greater part of the city was in a flame, although the first blaze had been detected in the suburbs. No one knew his motive, and few that the enemy had not done it. He carefully spread a report, both among the prisoners and his own people, that the Spaniards themselves were the authors of the fire. The citizens and even the English strove to extinguish the flames, by blowing up some houses with gunpowder and pulling down others, but being of wood, the fire spread rapidly from roof to roof. In less than half an hour a whole street was consumed. The Genoese warehouses and many of the slaves were burnt, and only one church was left standing; 200 store buildings were destroyed. ?xmelin seems to lament chiefly the slaves and merchandise, and scarcely even affects a regret for the stately city. The ruins continued to smoke and smoulder for a month, and at daybreak of the morning after their arrival, little of the great city they had lately seen glorious in the sunset remained but the president's house, where Morgan and his staff lodged, a small clump of muleteers' cottages, and two convents, that of St. Joseph and that of the Brothers of the Redemption. Still fearful of surprise, the adventurers encamped outside the walls in the fields, from a wish to avoid the confusion, and in order to keep together in case of an attack by a superior force. The wounded were put into the only church that had escaped the fire.

The next day Morgan despatched 160 men to Chagres to announce his victory, and to see that his garrison wanted for nothing. They met whole troops of Spaniards running to and fro in the savannah, but, in spite of their expectations, they never rallied. In the afternoon the Buccaneers re-entered the city, and selected houses of the few left to barrack in. They then dragged all the available cannon they could find and placed them round the church of the Fathers of the Trinity, which they entrenched. In this they placed in separate places the wounded and the prisoners. The evening they spent in searching the ruins for gold, melted or hidden, and found much spoil, especially in wells and cisterns.

A few hours after, Morgan's vessels returned with three prizes, laden with plate and other booty, taken in the South Sea. The day they sailed, arriving at one of the small islands of refuge near Panama, they took a sloop with its crew of seven men, belonging to a royal Spanish vessel of 400 tons, laden with church plate and jewels, removed by the richest merchants in Panama; there were also on board all the religious women of the nunnery, with the valuable ornaments of their church, and she was so deeply laden as not to require ballast. It carried only seven guns and a dozen muskets, had no more sails than the "uppermost of the mizen," was short of ammunition and food, and even of water. The Buccaneers received this intelligence from some Indians who had spoken to the seamen of the galleon when they came ashore in a cock-boat for water. Had they given chase they might have easily captured it, but Captain Clark let the golden opportunity slip through his hands. Thinking himself sure of his prize as he had got her sloop, his men spent the night in drinking the rich wines they found in the sloop, and reposing in the arms of their Spanish mistresses, the more beautiful for their tears and despair. During these debaucheries the galleon slipped by and was no more seen, and so they lost a prize of greater value than all the treasure found in Panama. In the morning, weary of the revel, they crowded all sail and despatched a well-armed boat to pursue the cripple, ascertaining that the Spanish ship was in bad sailing order and incapable of making any resistance. In the islands of Tavoga and Tavogilla they captured several boats laden with merchandise. Informed by a prisoner of the probable moorings of the galleon, Morgan, enraged at her escape, sent every boat in Panama in pursuit of her, bidding them seek till they found her. They were eight days cruising from port to creek. Returning to the isles, they found here a large ship newly come from Payta, laden with cloth, soap, sugar, biscuit, and 20,000 pieces of eight; another small boat near was also taken and laden with the divided merchandise. With these glimpses of wealth the boats returned to Panama somewhat consoled for the loss of their larger prize. The Buccaneers' vessels now began to excite the astonishment of the Spaniards, they being the first Englishmen, since Drake, who had appeared as enemies on those seas.

During this expedition Morgan had employed the rest of his men in scouring the country in daily companies of 200, one party relieving another, and perpetually bringing in flocks of pale and bleeding prisoners, or mules laden with treasure. Some tortured the captives, others explored the mines, and the rest burnt glittering heaps of gold and silver stuffs, merely to obtain the metal, expecting to have to fight their way back to their ships at Chagres, and not wishing to be encumbered with unwieldy bundles on that toilsome and dangerous march. Morgan, complaining much of the fruitless labours of his foragers, at last placed himself at the head of 350 men, and sallied into the country to torture every wealthy Spaniard he could meet.

The following anecdote presents us with such a complete picture of the demoralisation of a panic, that it reminds us of Thucydides' description of Athens during the plague, or Boccaccio's of Florence during the raging of the pest. On one occasion Morgan's men met with a poor Spaniard, who, during the general confusion, had strolled into a rich man's house and dressed himself in the costume of a merchant of rank. He had just stripped off his rags, and, first luxuriating in a change of costly Dutch linen, had slipped on a pair of breeches of fine red taffety, and picking up the silver key of some coffer, had tied it to one of his points. Esquemeling represents the man as a poor retainer of the house. He was still wondering childishly at his unwonted finery, when the Buccaneers broke into the house and seized him as a prize. Finding him richly dressed and in a fine house, they believed him at once to be the master. His story they treated as a subtle invention. In vain he pointed to the black rags he had thrown off-in vain he protested, by all the saints, that he lived on charity, and had wandered in there and put on the clothes by the merest chance, and without a motive but of venial theft. Spying the little key at his girdle they became sure that he lied, and they demanded where he had hid his cabinet. They had at first laughed at his ingenious story-they now grew angry at his denials of wealth. They stretched him on the rack and disjointed his arms, they twisted a cord round his wrinkled forehead "till his eyes appeared as big as eggs, and were ready to fall out," and as he still refused to answer, they hung him up and loaded him with stripes. They then cut off his nose and ears, singing his face with burning straw till he could not even groan or scream, and at last, despairing of obtaining a confession, gave him over to their attendant band of negroes to put him to death with their lances. "The common sport and recreation of the pirates," says Esquemeling, "being such cruelties."

They spared no sex, age, or condition; priest or nun, peasant or noble, old man, maiden, and child were all stretched on the same bed of torture. They granted no quarter to any who could not pay a ransom, or who would not pay it speedily. The most beautiful of the prisoners became their mistresses, and the virtuous were treated with rigour and cruelty. Captain Morgan himself seduced the fairest by alternate presents and threats. There were women found base enough to forsake their religion and their homes to become the harlots of a pirate and a murderer. But to his iron heart love found a way, and enervated the mind of the man whom nothing before could soften.

After ten days spent in the country beyond the walls, Morgan returned to Panama, and found a shipload of Spanish prisoners newly arrived. Amongst these was a woman of exquisite beauty, the wife of a Spanish merchant, then absent on business in Peru. He had left her in the care of some relations, with whom she was captured. Esquemeling says: "Her years were few, and her beauty so great, as, peradventure, I may doubt whether in all Christendom any could be found to surpass her perfections, either of comeliness or honesty." ?xmelin, a more skilful observer, and who saw her, being a sharer in the expedition, describes her hair as ink black, and her complexion of dazzling purity. Her eyes were piercing, and the Spanish pride, usually so cold and repulsive, served in her only as a foil to her surpassing beauty, and to attract respect. The roughest sailors and rudest hunters grew eloquent when they praised her. The common men would willingly have drawn swords for such a prize. But their commander was already the slave of her whom he had captured. His demeanour changed: he was no longer brutal and truculent: he became sociable in manner, and more attentive to the richness of his dress, for lovers grow either more careless or more regardful of their attire.

The Buccaneer's aspect was changed. He separated the lady from the other prisoners, and treated her with marked respect. An old negress, who waited on her, served at once as an attendant and a spy. She was told to assure her mistress, that the Buccaneers were gentlemen and no thieves, and men who knew what politeness and gallantry were as well as any. The lady wept and entreated to be placed with the other prisoners, for she had heard that her relations were afraid of some plot against her good fame.

The lady, like other Spanish women, had been told by their priests and husbands, that the Buccaneers had the shape of beasts and not of men. The more intelligent reported they were robbers, murderers, and heretics; men who forswore the Holy Trinity, and did not believe in Jesus Christ. "The oaths of Morgan," says Esquemeling, with most commendable gravity, "soon convinced her that he had heard of a God." It was said, that a woman of Panama who had long desired to see a pirate, on their first entrance into the city cried out, "Jesu Maria, the thieves are men, like the Spaniards, after all;" and some volunteers, when they went out to meet Morgan's army, had promised to bring home a pirate's head as a curiosity.

Morgan, refusing to restore the beauty to her friends, treated her with more flattering care than before. Tapestries, robes, jewels, and perfumes, lay at her disposal. Such kindness, after all, was cheap generosity, and part of this treasure may even have been her husband's. In her innocence, she began to think better of the Buccaneers. They might be thieves, but they were not, she found, atheists, nor very cruel, for Captain Morgan sent her dishes from his own table. She at first received his visits with gratitude and pleasure, surprised at the rough, frank kindness of the seaman, and loudly denounced his slanderers, that had so cruelly attempted to poison her mind against him, her guardian and protector. The snares were well set, and the bird was fluttering in. But Heaven preserved her, and she passed through the furnace unhurt. Morgan soon threw off his disguise, and offered her all the treasures of the Indies if she would become his mistress. She refused his presents of gold and pearl, and resisted all his artifices. In vain he tried alternately kindness and severity. He threatened her with a thousand cruelties, and she replied, that her life was in his hands, but that her body should remain pure, though her soul was torn from it. On his advancing nearer, and threatening violence, she drew out a poignard, and would have slain him or herself, had he not left her uninjured. Enraged at her pride, as he miscalled her virtue, he determined to break her spirit by suffering. She was stripped of her richest apparel, and thrown into a dark cellar, with scarcely enough food allowed her to support life, and the chief demanded 30,000 piastres as her ransom, to prevent her being sold as a slave in Jamaica. Under this hardship the lady prayed like a second Una daily to God, for constancy and patience. Morgan, now convinced of her purity, and afraid of his men, who already began to express openly their sympathy with her sufferings, to account for his cruelty, accused her to his council of having abused his kindness by corresponding with the Spaniards, and declared that he had intercepted a letter written in her own hand. "I myself," says Esquemeling, "was an eye-witness of the lady's sufferings, and could never have judged such constancy and chastity to be found in the world, if my own eyes and ears had not assured me thereof." Amid the blood, and dust, and vapour of smoke, the virtue of this incomparable lady shines out like a pale evening star, visible above all the murky crimson of an autumn sunset.

A new danger now arose to Morgan from this adventure, for the seamen began to murmur, saying that the love of this beautiful Spaniard kept them lingering at Panama, and gave the Spaniards time to collect their forces, and surprise them on their return. But Morgan, having now stayed three weeks, and nothing more being left to plunder, gave orders to collect enough mules to carry the spoil to Cruz, where it could be shipped for Chagres, and so sent homeward.

There can be no doubt that various causes had for some time been undermining the long subsisting attachment between Morgan and his men. He had shown himself a slave to the passions which enchained their own minds, and their riches perhaps made them independent, and therefore mutinous. It was while the mules were collecting that he became aware of the loaded mine over which he stood. A plot was discovered, in which there were 100 conspirators. They had resolved to seize the two vessels they had captured in the South Sea, and with these to take possession of an island, which they could fortify for a stronghold. They would then fit out the first large Spanish vessel they could obtain, and with a good pilot and a bold captain start privateering on their own account, and work home by the straits of Magellan. As the spoil had not yet been divided, it is probable that all these men had broken the Buccaneer oath, and had secreted part of the plunder. They had already hidden in private places, cannons, muskets, provisions, and ammunition. They were on the very point of raising the anchor, when one of them betrayed the scheme, and Morgan at once ordered the vessel to be dismasted and the rigging burnt. The vessels he would also have destroyed, but these he spared at the intercession of the friend he had appointed their captain. From this time all confidence seems to have ceased between Morgan and his men. Many a king has been made a tyrant by the detection of a conspiracy. The men dreaded his vengeance, and he their treachery. From this hour he appears to have resolved to enrich himself and his immediate friends at any risk, leaving the French to shift for themselves. It is not improbable but that the old French and English feud may have had something to do with this quarrel. In war it ceased, but rankled out again in peace. The French seem to have been his greatest enemies, and the English friendly or indifferent. This distinction is visible even in the historians, for Esquemeling speaks of him with mere distrust, and ?xmelin with bitter hatred.

In a few days the mules were ready, and the gold packed in convenient bales, for Spanish or English gold it was all one to the mules. The costly church plate was beaten up into heavy shapeless lumps, and the heavier spoil was left behind or destroyed. Better burn it, they thought, than leave it to the accursed Spaniard, for we always hate those whom we have injured. The artillery of the town being carefully spiked, and all ready to depart, Morgan informed his prisoners that he was about to march, and that he should take with him all those who were either unable or unwilling at once to bring in their ransom. The sight was heart-rending, and the panic general. At his words, says the historian, there was not one but trembled, not one but hurried to write to his father, his brother, or his friends, praying for instant deliverance or it would be too late. The slaves were also priced, and hostages were sent to collect the money. While this was taking place, a party of 150 men were sent to Chagres to bring up the boats and to look out for ambuscades, it being reported that Don Juan Perez de Guzman, the fugitive president of Panama, had entrenched himself strongly at Cruz, and intended to dispute the passage. Some prisoners confessed that the president had indeed so intended, but could get no soldiers willing to fight, though he had sent for men as far as Carthagena; for the scattered troopers fled at the sight of even their own friends in the distance.

Having waited four days impatiently for the ransom, Morgan at last set out on his return on the 24th of February, 1671. He took with him a large amount of baggage, 175 beasts of burden laden with gold, silver, and jewels, and about 600 prisoners, men, women, children, and slaves, having first spiked all the cannon and burnt the gun-carriages. He marched in good order for fear of attack, with a van and rear-guard, and the prisoners guarded between the two divisions.

The departure was an affecting sight, as even the two historians, who were Buccaneers themselves and eye-witnesses, admit. Lamentations, cries, shrieks, and doleful sighs of women and children filled the air. The men wept silently, or muttered threats between their teeth, to avoid the blows of their unpitying drivers. Thirst and hunger added to their sufferings. Many of the women threw themselves on their knees at Morgan's feet and begged that he would permit them to return to Panama, there to live with their dear husbands and children in huts till the city could be rebuilt. But his fierce answer was, that he did not come there to hear lamentations, but to seek money, and that if that was not found, wherever it was hid, they should assuredly follow him to Jamaica. All the selfishness and all the goodness of each nature now came to the surface. The selfish fell into torpid and isolated despair-the good forgot their own sufferings in trying to relieve those of others.

Some gazed at each other silently and hopelessly; others wailed and wept, a few cursed and raged. Here stood one mourning for a brother-there another lamenting a wife. Many believed that they should never see each other again; but would be sold as slaves in Jamaica. The first evening the army encamped in the middle of a green savannah on the banks of a cool and pleasant river. This was a great relief to the wretched prisoners, who had been dragged all day through the heat of a South American noon by men themselves insensible to climate-urged forward by the barrels of muskets and blows from the butts of pikes. Some of the women were here seen begging the Buccaneers, with tears in their eyes, for a drop of water, that they might moisten a little flour for their children, who hung crying at their parched and dried-up breasts. The next day, when they resumed the march, the shrieks and lamentations were more terrible than before. "They would have caused compassion in the hardest heart," says Esquemeling; "but Captain Morgan, as a man little given to mercy, was not moved in the least." The lagging Spaniards were driven on faster with blows, till some of the women swooned with the intense heat, and were left as dead by the road-side. Those who had husbands gave them the children to carry. The young and the beautiful fared best. The fair Spaniard was led between two Buccaneers, still apart from the rest. She wept as she walked along, crying that she had entrusted two priests in whom she relied to procure her ransom money, 30,000 piastres, from a certain hidden place, and that they had employed it in ransoming their friends. A slave had brought a letter to the lady and disclosed the treachery. Her complaint being told to Morgan he inquired into it, and found it to be true. The religious men confessed their crime, but declared they had only borrowed the money, intending to repay it in a week or so. He therefore at once released the lady, and detained the monks in her place, taking them on to Chagres and despatching two men to obtain their ransom.

On arriving at Cruz the mules were unloaded, preparatory to embarkation. The Buccaneers encamped round the king's warehouse, where it was stored. Three days were given to collect the ransom. The Spaniards, tardy or unwilling in the collection, brought in the money the day after. Vast quantities of corn, rice, and maize were collected here for victualling the ships. Morgan embarked 150 slaves, and a few poor and obstinate Spaniards who had not yet paid their ransom. The monks were redeemed, and escaped happy enough. A part of the Buccaneers marched by land. Many tears of joy and sorrow were shed when the prisoners and those who were liberated took farewell.

On reaching Barbacoa the division of the spoil began. Mustering his men, Morgan compelled them all to swear they had concealed nothing, even of the smallest value, and, what was more unusual, he ordered them all to be individually searched from top to toe, down even to the very soles of their shoes. This search was suspicious and insulting. The Frenchmen, hot-blooded and mutinous, would have openly resisted had they not been in the minority. Morgan allowed himself to be first searched to lessen the general discontent, and one man in every company was employed as searcher. No precautions were neglected that could be suggested by long experience of plundering.

This unusual vigilance was a mere cloak for Morgan's own dishonesty. Every man was now compelled to discharge his musket before the searchers, that they might be sure no precious stones were hidden in the barrel. These searchers were generally the lieutenants of each crew, and had all taken an additional oath to perform their duty with fidelity. The murmurs against Morgan had now reached such a height, and were so hourly increasing, that many Frenchmen threatened to take his life before they reached Jamaica. The more temperate controlled the younger and the more impetuous, and the band reached Chagres without any revolt. They found the garrison short of provisions and glad to be relieved, but the wounded had nearly all died of their wounds.

From Chagres Morgan sent a great boat to Porto Bello with all the St. Catherine's prisoners, and demanded a ransom for sparing the castle of Chagres. The people of Porto Bello replied they would not give one farthing, and he might burn it as he chose.

The day after their arrival, Morgan divided the booty. It amounted to only 443,000 pounds, estimating at ten piastres the pound. The jewels were sold unfairly, the admiral and his cabal buying the greater part very cheap, having already, it was believed, retained all the best of the spoil. Every one had expected at least 1000 pieces each, and was disappointed and indignant at receiving only about 200. There was an end now to all co-operation between English and French adventurers, and the hopes of a Buccaneer republic were at an end for ever. The murmurs again rose incontrollably high, and some proposed to seize Morgan and force him to a fair division.

The suspected admiral, trying in vain to pacify them, and finding he could obtain no price for Chagres, divided the provisions of the fort among the vessels, removed the cannon and ammunition, then demolished the fortifications, and burnt the buildings. Suddenly taking alarm, or more probably following a preconcerted plan, Morgan sailed out of the harbour without any signal or notice, and hurried to Jamaica, followed by four English vessels, whose captains had been his confidants.

In the first paroxysm of their rage, the French adventurers would have pursued Morgan, and attacked his vessel, but he escaped while they were still hesitating. We shall find him finally settled in Jamaica, and married to the daughter of the chief person of the island, a sure proof, says the indignant and philosophical ?xmelin, that any one is esteemed in this world provided he has money.

The same vivacious writer gives a lively picture of the rage of the crews at the treacherous flight of Morgan. They shouted, swore, stamped, clenched their fists, gnashed their teeth, and tore their hair, fired off their pistols in the air, and brandished their arms, with imprecations loud and deep. They longed for the plunder they had lost, and longed still more eagerly for revenge. They never now mentioned the Welsh name but with an execration. Strange anomaly of the human mind, that men who lived by robbery, should be astonished at a small theft committed by a comrade! In the first bitterness of their vexation, they drew their sabres, and hewed and thrust at their imaginary enemy. They bared their arms, and pointed out to each other the cicatrices of their half-healed wounds.

Confirmations of the admiral's treachery reached them from every side.

They remembered that Morgan had been latterly unusually reserved and unsociable, closeting himself with a few English confidants, to whom he had been seen whispering even during public conferences. He had, it was now recollected, grown silent during all discussions, and more particularly when the booty was mentioned.

?xmelin (a surgeon) also mentions, that on one occasion, as he was visiting a wounded Buccaneer, Morgan came up to the hammock, and said in English, thinking he could not be overheard, "Courage, get soon well, you have helped me to conquer, and you must help me to profit by the conquest." Another day, as ?xmelin was searching by the river for a medical herb, he turned round suddenly, and saw Morgan secreting something in the corner of a canoe, and looking frequently over his shoulder to see if he was observed. When he observed ?xmelin, he looked troubled, and, coming up, asked him what he was doing there, to which the surgeon made no answer, but, stooping down, picked the plant he was in search of, and began to tell him its properties. Morgan turned off the subject, beginning to converse on indifferent topics, and, although the proudest of men, insisted on accompanying him home. ?xmelin took care to find an opportunity afterwards to rummage the canoe, but found nothing; but this same canoe he always observed Morgan took great care of, and never permitted to row out of his sight. But these stories none had dared to utter, for since the victory of Panama, the admiral, always proud, sensual, and cruel, had grown every day more stern, and had rendered himself dreaded by his severities.

The adventurers sought for a long time some means of avenging themselves on Morgan for his successful treachery. They at last heard that he had resolved to take possession of St. Catherine's island, being apprehensive of the governor of Jamaica. In this spot he had determined to fortify himself, renew his Buccaneering, and defy both open enemies and treacherous friends. The Buccaneers agreed to waylay him on his passage, and carry him off, with his wife, children, and ill-gotten treasure. They then planned either to kill him, or compel him to render an account of the spoil of Panama. But an unexpected accident saved Morgan, and defeated their scheme of vengeance. At the very crisis, a new governor, Lord G. Vaughan, arrived at Port Royal, and brought a royal order for Morgan to be sent to England to answer the complaints of the King of Spain and his subjects. Of his trial we hear nothing, but we soon after see the culprit knighted by Charles II., and appointed Commissioner of Admiralty for Jamaica. The king, who frolicked with Rochester, and smiled at the daring villany of Blood, had no scruples in disgracing knighthood by such an addition.

In the autumn of 1680, the Earl of Carlisle, then governor of Jamaica, finding his constitution undermined by the climate, returned to England, leaving Morgan as his deputy.

His opportunity of revenge had now come, and he remembered his old dangers of ruin and assassination. Many of the Buccaneers were hung by his authority, and some of them were delivered up to the governor of Carthagena. A new governor arrived, and terminated his cruelties, and the justice inspired by a personal hatred. He still remained commissioner. In the next reign he was thrown into prison, where he remained three years. Of his final fate we know nothing certain.

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