This was but one incident in the romantic career of Greaves, or “Red Legs,”—which is a far more appropriate name for a freebooter,—who was a unique and fascinating character. Sold as a slave in Barbados, as were thousands of Scotch and Irish prisoners taken in the days of Cromwell, Greaves, in an effort to escape from a cruel master, sought refuge on a Dutch ship in the harbor. By some [[150]]mischance, he swam in the darkness to the wrong vessel and found himself upon a pirate craft. Fate having thus taken a hand in shaping his destiny, the erstwhile slave boy took to the buccaneers’ life as a duck takes to water. As all his unfortunate fellows were known in the islands as “red legs,”—as their descendants are to-day,—this new recruit of the pirates at once received the nickname, which stuck to him through all his years of buccaneering. While he was famous for his reckless daring, his almost uncanny luck in piratical undertakings, yet he was never dreaded as were many of his fellows. For Red Legs, despite his handicap, was a gallant and chivalrous gentleman at heart, and though he scuttled ships and sacked towns without end, yet he earned the reputation of never harming women or putting prisoners to death or torture. He was, in fact, that incredible paradox, a moral pirate, and in his declining years he devoted large sums—whether honestly earned from his plantation or loot from his piratical ventures is unknown—to charity and churches.
The island of Nevis can boast of association with one other pirate, who in a way was even more remarkable than Red Legs and accomplished the most noteworthy feat in all the annals of buccaneering. This was no less a personage than Bartholomew [[151]]Sharp, who, after what was probably the greatest adventure experienced by any of those most adventurous men the buccaneers, sailed into Nevis, back in 1682, and, having decided to abandon the sea and rest on his laurels, departed thence to England. [[152]]
[1] This is an excerpt from a report by Captain Thomas Warner, [[146]]the founder of the colony, who lies buried in Middle Island Church on the highway between Sandy Point and Basseterre, where his tombstone informs us that he “boughte an illustryous nayme with loss of noble blood.” [↑]
CHAPTER IX
THE “DANGEROUS VOYAGE” AND THE EFFECT OF A NAGGING TONGUE
No story of the West Indies in their relation to the buccaneers would be complete without some mention of Bartholomew Sharp and his marvelous cruise, which even Ringrose, his sailing-master and historian, dubbed “The Dangerous Voyage.”
Of Sharp’s earlier days of pirating we know little, but that he was an adept follower of the profession we may be sure, for his contemporaries spoke of him as “that sea artist and valiant commander” and, to use a slang expression, it took some pirate to win such praise from the corsairs of the Caribbean.
At all events, Sharp evidently found the pickings of the Spanish Main and its neighboring waters too poor for his liking, and, seeking richer fields for his art, gathered together a wild and daring company of some three hundred and fifty men and in April, 1680, sailed for the Isthmus of Panama. Among this choice assortment of companionable [[153]]spirits were many noteworthy pirates, for Sharp had great deeds in view and aimed to outdo the redoubtable Sir Henry Morgan himself. Ringrose, the historian of the buccaneers, was there; Dampier the buccaneer naturalist[1]; Wafer the surgeon; Watling and Gayny; Jobson the chemist; Coxon and Sawkins and many another. Reaching the isthmus, they disembarked and, emulating Morgan, proceeded to cross the “Bridge of the World” afoot by way of Darien, the wildest and hardest route. This in itself was no mean task, but to the pirates it was only an incident, a somewhat disagreeable means to an end and nothing more. Having gained the shores of the Pacific, they promptly commandeered canoes and without hesitation boldly attacked the Spanish fleet lying in the lee of Perico Island, off the city of Panama.