They fell upon Hispaniola, not once nor twice, but time after time, until the Dons came to the conclusion that Tortuga must be under the yoke of Spain and the buccaneers be swept away. So, timing their descent well, they went over to Tortuga when the French were away on the mainland, hunting, and the English were far off on a cruise. Landing soldiers, they took the island within an hour, seizing a large number of hunters before they had time to defend themselves. Some they killed out of hand, others they made captive, but a good many succeeded in escaping to certain hiding-places, whence, with the coming of night, they slipped down to the shore and hurried off to the mainland in canoes.
The Spaniards, feeling that this vigorous action would be sufficient to keep Tortuga within bounds, sailed back to Hispaniola. But, instead of having quashed the buccaneers, they found that they had but added fuel to the fire, for when the rovers came back from cruising and hunting, and discovered the condition of their island, they were filled with anger. They went mad! Off to the French island of St. Christopher they sailed, and Governor De Poncy, falling in with their plans, sent an expedition to Tortuga, which was recaptured, and put in such a state of defence that the disillusioned Dons had a shock next time they went over to carry out a second attempt at terrorism. Two hundred Spaniards bit the dust that day, and the buccaneer—the real buccaneer—was born.
For the Spaniard was successful in his efforts to kill the hunters’ trade; he stamped out the trading-hunter and gave life to a particularly romantic kind of pirate-freebooter. The men of Tortuga fell to preying upon the shipping of Spain. They were determined to have their revenge.
It would appear from all accounts that the first successful buccaneer who took to sea-roving was one Pierre le Grand, a native of Dieppe, who had found his way to the New World in quest of fortune. Baffled in his attempts to make the smiling lands yield up their wealth, he gathered a congenial company about him, and went to sea in a small boat holding himself and a crew of twenty men. The exploit that made him famous was that by which he captured the vice-admiral of a Spanish fleet near Cape of Tiburon, to the west of Hispaniola.
They had, it seems, been at sea a good while on the look-out for a prize worth having, and, finding none, were getting disheartened—and hungry, incidentally, seeing that they had used up most of their rations. Then, like a gift from the gods, there came into view a Spanish fleet, with a large ship standing some distance off from the rest. Pierre decided that it would be impious to let such an opportunity slip. He knew that it was a case of long odds, because the Spaniard was a fine vessel, and no doubt well manned; but, nothing venture, nothing have! So, waiting until the dusk of evening, Pierre, who had received solemn oaths from his companions that they would stand by him to the last, sailed towards his prey, hoping in his heart that the Dons might be unprepared for battle.
He did not know it then, but later he found out that the captain of the ship had had the little cockle-boat pointed out to him, with the suggestion that it might be a pirate craft; whereupon the gallant sailor had exclaimed:
“What, then, must I be afraid of such a pitiful thing as that is? No! though she were a ship as big and as strong as mine is!”
Determined to hazard all upon a gambler’s throw, when Peter drew near the great Spaniard, under cover of the twilight, he made his surgeon bore holes in the sides of his boat, so that, with their own vessel sinking quickly beneath them, his men might be impelled to put all their energy into the attempt to board the Spanish ship.
So, with “all or nothing” as the unspoken battle-cry, the buccaneers swarmed up the sides of the ship, hurled themselves aboard without being seen, and rushed pell-mell to the captain’s cabin, where they found him playing cards.
Pierre le Grand held the trump card—in the shape of a loaded pistol, which he promptly presented at the captain’s head, calling upon him to surrender.