Not only did the “wound in his legg” mark the end of one of the most glorious and heroic battles against overwhelming odds in the annals of the British Navy, but it was also the sequel to one of the most disgraceful episodes in British maritime history. Perhaps that last line on old Benbow’s gravestone has a double meaning, for if ever there was an engagement which should have been “much lamented” it was that with “Monsr Du Casse.”
The British fleet of seven ships, carrying over three hundred and fifty guns, sailed from Port Royal and met the French fleet of five large and four small vessels off Santa Marta on August 21, 1702. From the first it was a running fight, and had the British ships stood together it would soon have been over, but the British captains held aloof, and refused to come within range of the enemy despite [[283]]the admiral’s urgent orders. As a result, old Benbow in the Breda carried on a single-handed battle with the enemy for four days, hanging on the heels of the French and pouring broadside after broadside at them, until his spars were carried away, his bulwarks shattered, his sails in ribbons, his ship riddled with shot, and the bulk of his men wounded or killed. Each night the doughty old admiral would work feverishly to repair damages and keep the Breda from sinking, and as soon as day dawned would begin pounding away again at the French. On the morning of the 23d, a chain shot smashed Benbow’s right leg, but as soon as he recovered consciousness he ordered his bed carried to the quarter-deck, and there, mortally wounded, he continued to direct the hopeless battle.
But the odds were overwhelming; no single ship of seventy guns could hope to vanquish the entire French fleet, and when at last the indomitable admiral saw that his ship had barely enough rigging left to carry her to port he regretfully gave orders to withdraw. Shattered and torn, a veritable wreck, the Breda turned and headed for Jamaica with her tattered British ensign flying defiantly from her splintered masthead; the wounded admiral shaking his fists at his craven fellow officers, whose ships slunk below the horizon, homeward [[284]]bound, and, despite his loss of blood and the fact that he was almost blind from shock, volubly cursing the French, while over his head was still flying the orders for a general attack to which the other ships had failed to respond.
Upon his arrival in Kingston, Benbow’s leg was amputated, but gangrene had set in, and after a long and lingering illness, and suffering agonies, the gallant admiral passed away on November 4th, over two months after being wounded.
No doubt the failure to obey orders, on the part of the British commanders, was partly due to personal animosity, for Benbow was a surly and unlikeable man, noted for his rough and bullying attitude and cordially hated by his subordinates. But notwithstanding his peculiarities he was indisputably brave, and it is a satisfaction to know that the British captains—Kirkby, Constable, and Wade—were court-martialed, and that Kirkby and Wade were convicted and shot and Constable was cashiered and imprisoned and died in confinement. Of the others, Vincent was suspended, Hudson died before the trial was held, and only Walton of the Ruby, who had taken part in the early stage of the battle, was exonerated.
But Penn and Venables, Benbow and Rodney and all the others are of little interest and pale into [[285]]insignificance as far as Jamaica’s history is concerned beside that most remarkable and strange character, Sir Henry Morgan, the pirate chieftain who was knighted and who as lieutenant-governor ruled Jamaica with an iron hand.
Much has been written of Morgan, in history and in fiction, and his exploits have become so well known, his unprincipled ruthlessness such a byword, and his cruelties so notorious that we always think of him as having scourged the Caribbean and the Spanish Main for years. But as a matter of fact this most famous buccaneer’s entire career spanned but a scant five years, and all his most notable deeds were performed within a space of two years. As in the case of all the noted pirate leaders, his career of bloodshed and robbery was meteoric. It is hard to realize that he rose from nothing to be the greatest buccaneer chieftain of his day, performed feats which had never before and have never since been equaled for sheer bravery and daredevil recklessness, was knighted, became the ruler of Jamaica, and dropped out of sight all within five years.
Morgan was a Welshman, the son of a well-to-do farmer. Finding farm life irksome, he decided to set forth in search of adventure and succeeded beyond his wildest dreams. Reaching Bristol, he [[286]]shipped on a vessel bound for Barbados, where, almost as soon as he arrived, he was sold as a servant or virtually a slave. Little is known of his life in Barbados, or whether he escaped or worked out his serfdom, for we next hear of him in Jamaica, where, still seeking excitement, he joined a buccaneer’s ship. He was an apt pupil, and, what was unusual among the pirates, a thrifty soul, and after his third or fourth trip as a buccaneer he had accumulated enough cash to buy a share in a ship with a few chosen comrades.
His fellows unanimously elected him as captain and, with a crew selected carefully from the hordes of pirates who infested Port Royal, Morgan sailed for Campeche. From the very first he was marvelously successful, and upon his return from Campeche he threw in his lot with Mansvelt, a hoary old rascal who was then preparing an expedition to the Main.
Mansvelt, recognizing the spirit and promising possibilities of the new accession to the buccaneers’ ranks, selected Morgan as his vice-admiral, and with fifteen ships and over five hundred men the pirate fleet set sail on a glorious program of pillage and murder. Their first blow was struck at Old Providence Island (then known as St. Catherine), which Mansvelt planned to transform into [[287]]a pirate kingdom of his own. With little loss the pirates took the island, established a garrison of their own men, and sailed for Costa Rica and the coast of Panama, where they pillaged and destroyed to their hearts’ content, until finally driven off by the Spanish troops sent by the Governor of Panama.