A few leagues south of the Island of Cuba is the majestic Isle of Pines. Large as it is, its prominence is lost in the overpowering grandeur of its sister island. The ship was running along its southern coast.
A small cloud was seen in the southwestern horizon. Rapidly it increased in size and blackness. It was a tropical tornado. Already its roar could be heard as it ploughed and lashed the seas. The terrible gale struck the ship and whirled it along as though it had been a bubble. God was there, in his sore displeasure. What could man do? Nothing. The pirates threw themselves upon their knees, and called upon the Virgin and all the saints to come and help them. But neither Virgin nor saint came.
The ship struck the rocks—was dashed to pieces; the silver, the gold, the cargo, everything disappeared before those terrific blasts. Many were drowned. Barthelemy and a few of the crew were swept ashore by the mountain billows. Their clothes were torn from their backs. Their bodies were sorely bruised, and some of their bones broken, by being dashed against the rocks. Exhausted, panting, maimed, and half dead, Barthelemy found himself utterly beggared upon a lonely isle. This was the work of one short half-hour. This was the disposal God made of the pirates’ stolen spoil.
A wretched, starving straggler, Barthelemy found his way to Jamaica. Here he enlisted as a common sailor on board a pirate ship, and we hear of him no more. Without doubt, he came to a miserable end; and his body was probably thrown into the sea as food for sharks.
CHAPTER IX
Francis Lolonois.
Early Life of Lolonois.—His Desperate Character.—Joins the Buccaneers.—His Fiend-like Cruelty.—The Desperadoes Rally around Him.—Equips a Fleet.—Captures Rich Prizes.—Plans the Sack of Maracaibo.—The Adventurous Voyage.—Description of Venezuela.—Atrocities at Maracaibo and Gibraltar.—Doom of the Victors.
One of the most demoniac of those pirates who were ravaging sea and land, calling themselves buccaneers, and assuming that they were conducting a sort of legitimate warfare on their own private account, was a bold wretch by the name of Francis Lolonois. He was a Frenchman. When quite a young man, he, with other adventurers, went to the West Indies, paying for his passage, in accordance with a custom of the times, by being sold as a servant for a certain term.
Having obtained his freedom, he went to the Island of St. Domingo. Here he lived a vagabond life, sometimes hunting, and again engaged as a common sailor in the commerce of the islands. He soon acquired the reputation of being a reckless desperate fellow, and attracted the attention of the piratic governor of the piratic rendezvous, at the Island of Tortugas. He was intrusted with the command of a small vessel, to prey upon Spanish commerce. His success was extraordinary. He became rich. So terrible were his cruelties, that his fame extended through both of the Indies. Death was the doom of his captives; often death by torture.
He had all his wealth, gold, jewels, and goods in a great ship, armed with heavy guns. It was wrecked on the coast of Campeachy. The crew barely escaped with their lives. The angry waves dashed to pieces and swallowed up the ill-gotten gains of the pirate. The enraged Spaniards, overjoyed at the wreck, pursued those who had escaped to the dry land, and shot most of them down, mercilessly. Lolonois, disguised as a common sailor, was severely wounded. He smeared himself with blood, and feigned death. Being left on the field unburied, when the Spaniards left, he crept into the woods. It was universally believed that he was dead. The removal of such a wretch from the world was a matter of almost national rejoicing. Bonfires blazed. Cannon were fired. The undevout drank, and swore in their carousal. The devout repaired to the churches, and thanked God that the world was delivered from so cruel a pirate.