By the same token, we should think kindly of and doff our hats to St. Eustatius, whose magnificent volcanic cone rose majestically before the Vigilant five hours after she had spread her wings and sailed out of Gustavia’s harbor. It was here at “Statia,” as it is always called, that the Stars and Stripes—or, rather, its earlier prototype—was first saluted by the guns of a foreign power. And a pretty mess that courtesy made for stout old Governor De Graaf, for it brought the British under the redoubtable Rodney down upon this isle and resulted in the ruin of Statia.
It was in November, 1776, that the fort at Orangetown (Statia’s only port) roared out its thunderous salute to the banner of the new republic as it flew from the masthead of the Andrew Doria of Baltimore, one of a fleet of privateers that found friends and safety in the Dutch, Swedish, and [[126]]Danish isles and did so much to help the cause of the American colonies. Like St. Barts, Statia, during our Revolution, proved a godsend to our privateers and merchantmen, for it was not only a neutral island but a free port as well. Hence, at a time when England’s high-handed and short-sighted colonial policies had almost ruined commerce in the West Indies, virtually all trade between Europe and the American colonies became diverted to the tiny volcanic isle of Statia. Then, when the French threw in their lot with our fore-fathers, they too flocked to the Dutch port, until St. Eustatius became the richest and greatest center of commerce in the New World and rivaled the most famed marts of trade in the Old World as well. Ships flying the flags of all nations steered their course for Statia; the roadstead before Orangetown was a forest of masts and yards; immense warehouses and docks lined the waterfront, and the place became a vast storehouse and trading-post, a maritime and commercial exchange, such as the world had never seen before.
Often before little sun-bathed Orangetown fully two hundred ships would ride at anchor, and back and forth between them and the shore a steady stream of boats plied, heavily laden with goods from every corner of the earth. The streets were filled [[127]]with crowds of stevedores, slaves, merchants, and sailors. Bales, boxes, and barrels overflowed the giant warehouses and were piled mountain-high along the thoroughfares and on the beach, and merchants and buyers, unable to find accommodations, set up their business in the open air, with packing-cases for chairs and tables and sail-canvas awnings for roofs.
And to Statia also flocked the privateering craft from Portland, Salem, Boston, New York, Baltimore, and countless other ports. Here they repaired and refitted, here they disposed of captured prizes and loot, and here they were welcomed with open arms by the thrifty Dutch. Perchance, had the Statians and their cosmopolitan visitors confined themselves to legitimate trade, the British might have said or done nothing, even though De Graaf saw fit to recognize the new-born republic officially by a salute to its flag. But the island had gone money-mad, and not only did Statia become temporarily the world’s greatest center of commerce, but, in addition, it became a brazenly open dêpot for contraband of war, while, to add insult to injury, the Dutch made no bones of convoying American privateers with their men-o’-war, and did not hesitate to grant Dutch papers to American merchantmen. Thus matters stood until at last the [[128]]English decided that something must be done, and on February 3, 1781, Rodney swept unexpectedly down on Statia and, meeting with scarcely a show of resistance, took possession of the town and all it contained, to say nothing of over a hundred and fifty merchant ships lying in the harbor at the time.
It was a prize which would have made the greatest buccaneer of them all turn green with envy, for the loot consisted of over twenty-five million dollars’ worth of goods, to say nothing of the ships. As it was manifestly impossible for the British fleet to carry off this treasure, and as Britain could ill afford to lose over five million pounds sterling so easily obtained, the invaders promptly inaugurated the greatest auction sale ever known, and there in Orangetown sold to the highest bidders that vast accumulation of merchandise which had poured from the ends of the earth into the little port.
Then, having seen the last of the goods taken away and the last ship sail, Rodney pocketed his millions in the name of the King of England and, feeling that it had been a good job well done, hoisted anchor and bore away for other adventures.
SABA
Saba Island from the sea
