In this his Majesty was not mistaken, for Morgan ruled the island with an iron hand. On his return from Panama he had cheated his men, and had [[292]]made way with the greater portion of the booty, leaving his fellows to shift for themselves. When, later, these deserted rascals made their way to Jamaica they denounced his treachery in no measured terms. As a result, Morgan was as unpopular among the buccaneers as he had formerly been popular. But it did little good for the disgruntled pirates to rail and threaten reprisals when the object of their venom was the ruler of Jamaica. Morgan had it in his power to make short shrift of the pirates, and despite the fact that they had served under him and had stood by his side in many a desperate battle, Sir Henry hanged them out of hand, often without trial of any sort, until Jamaica became so hot for the lieutenant-governor’s one-time associates that the majority betook themselves to Tortuga and rejoined their former French partners.
Morgan, however, was as crooked as a governor as he had been when a pirate; and the fact that he was a Sir altered his character not one jot. He had never believed in letting his one hand know what the other was doing, and while he publicly hanged pirates in chains he secretly furnished cash and outfits for his brother and a few chosen friends to go a-pirating. Rumors of this leaked out; Morgan’s severities became so onerous that even the [[293]]law-abiding inhabitants of the island rebelled, and as a result, he was recalled. Virtually nothing is known of his life after his recall; there is a deal of confusion as to where he lived or how he died, and not a monument, a tablet, or an inscription in Jamaica keeps green the memory or the deeds of Sir Henry Morgan, pirate, governor, and villain. [[294]]
CHAPTER XVII
THE BRIDGE OF THE WORLD
Although Morgan rose to fame in Jamaica, yet in the island he is unhonored and unsung; and it was across leagues of heaving sea and along the shores of the Spanish Main that his marvelous, execrable enterprises were carried out. In order to follow in his wake I was compelled to bid farewell to my men and the stanch little Vigilant and continue my way by steamer.
It was with deep regret that I parted with faithful Sam, hideous-faced Trouble, dignified Joseph, and all the other care-free, happy-go-lucky black and brown members of my crew, for we had got along famously together and they seemed more like old friends than employees. But I knew that sooner or later I should see them all again: in the West Indies one is ever meeting old friends and acquaintances, and as Jules, the half-Carib Dominican, expressed it when he said good-bye, “Morne pas ka encountre; moune ka encountre tojou. [Only mountains never meet; people always meet again.]” [[295]]
Out of the harbor the Vigilant sailed, past sleepy Port Royal at the tip of the Palisados and, heading eastward, bore off toward the distant Virgins. Outward after her forged the big steamer and, swinging her sharp prow westward, surged onward toward Central America, over the same course that Sir Henry sailed as with his crew of ruffians he swept down upon Porto Bello. Standing at the steamer’s taffrail, I watched the little schooner heeling to the breeze. Wider and wider spread the stretch of heaving blue between us, until, like the flash of a sea-gull’s wings, her white sails twinkled upon the horizon and were gone.
I was on deck at daybreak the following morning, gazing through my glasses at the gray and lofty peak of Old Providence,—the St. Catherine that Mansvelt had thought to make a pirate kingdom and which Morgan later had sacked and pillaged on his way to Panama.
In those days Old Providence was an important stronghold, a miniature Gibraltar guarding the approaches to the coast and ever heavily fortified and garrisoned. But to-day it is a forlorn and all but deserted spot, the home of fisherfolk and a few farmers who cultivate their precarious crops upon the rugged hillsides, and of so little worth [[296]]that Panama left it in the undisputed possession of Colombia when she gained her independence. Passing the sea-girt volcanic isle to-day, one marvels that the pirates ever should have wasted ammunition and lives upon it; but to them it was a strategic point, and could they have but held it, the fate of Central America might have been very different. Instead of a series of small republics, the land from Mexico to Colombia might now be a colony of Britain.