M. de Poncy, informed of the extraordinary change in the character of Le Vasseur, endeavoured to beguile him by promises, threats, and entreaties. Justice gave him now a pretext of enforcing what self-interest had long meditated. The toils were growing closer round the doomed man, but Heaven sent a speedier punishment. Le Vasseur, still waiving all openings for formal complaint, was exulting in all the glory of a small satrapy, when two nephews conspired against his life. Cupidity inspired the crime, and they easily persuaded themselves that God and man alike demanded the expiation. One writer calls them simply captains, "companions of fortune," and another, the nephews of Le Vasseur.
These ungrateful men had already been declared his heirs, but they had quarrelled with him about a mistress he had taken from them, and one fault in a friend obliterates the remembrance of many virtues. They believed that the inhabitants, rejoiced at deliverance from such tyranny, would appoint them joint governors in the first outburst of their gratitude. They shot him from an ambush as he was descending from the rock fort to the shore, but, only wounding him slightly, were obliged to complete the murder with a poignard. The wounded man called for a priest, and declared himself, with his last breath, a steadfast Catholic. He seems to have been a dark, wily man, of strong passions, tenacious ambition, and ungovernable will.
While this crime was perpetrating, De Poncy, determined to recover possession of at least his share of Tortuga, and weary and angry at the subterfuges of Le Vasseur, had resolved upon a new expedition. The leader was a Chevalier de Fontenoy, a soldier of fortune, who, attracted by the sparkle of Spanish gold, had just arrived at St. Kitt's in a French frigate. Full of chivalry, he at once proposed to sail, although informed that the place was impregnable, and could only be taken by stratagem. While the armament was fitting up, he made a cruise round Carthagena, on the look out for Spanish prizes, and joined M. Feral, a nephew of the general, at Port de Paix, a rendezvous twelve leagues from Tortuga. Informed there of the murder of Le Vasseur, they at once sailed for the harbour, and landed 500 men at the spot where the Spaniards had formerly been repulsed. The two murderers immediately capitulated, on condition of being allowed to depart with all their uncle's treasure. The Chevalier was proclaimed governor, and received with as many acclamations as Le Vasseur had been before him. The old religion was restored, and commerce patronized and protected, by royal edict. Two bastions were added to the fort, and more guns mounted. The Buccaneers crowded back in greater numbers than even on Le Vasseur's arrival. Before they had only imagined the advantages of this conquest, but now they had tasted them. The Chevalier hailed all Buccaneers as friends and brothers, and even himself fitted out privateers. The Spanish ships could scarcely venture out of port, and one merchant alone is known to have lost 300,000 crowns' worth of merchandise in a single year.
It is easier to conquer than to retain a conquest, and vigilance grows blunted by success. The Chevalier, too confident in his strength, allowed half his population to embark in cruisers. The sick, the aged, the maimed, laboured in the plantations with the slaves. The Spaniards, informed of this, landed in force, without resistance. The few Buccaneers crowded into the fort, which the enemy dared not approach. Discovering, however, a mountain that commanded the rock, precipitous, but still accessible, they determined to plant a battery upon it, and drive the Buccaneers from their last foothold. With infinite vigour and determination they hewed a road to the mountain between two rocks. Making frames of wood, they lashed on their cannons, and forced the slaves and prisoners to drag them to the summit, and, with a battery of four guns, suddenly opened a fire upon the unguarded fort. The Chevalier, not expecting this enterprise, had just deprived himself of his last defence, by cutting down the large trees that grew round the walls. In spite of all the threats and expostulations of the governor, the garrison, galled by this plunging fire, at once capitulated. They left the island in twenty-four hours, with arms and baggage, drums beating, colours flying, and match burning, and set sail in two half-scuttled vessels lying in the road, having first given hostages not to serve against Spain for a given time. In another vessel, but alone, set sail the two murderers, who, being short of food, consummated their crimes by leaving the women and children of their company on a desert island.
The Spanish general, repairing the fort, garrisoned it with sixty men, whom he supplied with provisions. Fontenoy, repulsed in an attempt to recover the island, soon afterwards returned to France.
In 1655, when Admiral Penn appeared off St. Domingo with Cromwell's fleet, the Spaniards, to increase their forces in Hispaniola, recalled the troop which had held Tortuga eighteen months—the commander first blowing up the fort, burning the church, the houses, and the magazines, and devastating the plantations. Not long afterwards, an English refugee of wealth, Elias Ward (or, as the French call him, Elyazouärd), came from Jamaica, with his family and a dozen soldiers, and with an English commission from the general, and was soon joined by about 120 French and English adventurers.
The treaty of the Pyrenees, in 1659, brought no repose to the hunters of Hispaniola from Spanish inroads. The planters were compelled to work armed, and to keep watch at night for fear of being murdered in their beds. In 1667 the war recommencing, let the bloodhounds, who had long been straining in the leash, free to raven and devour. De Lisle again plundered St. Jago, and obtained 2,500 piastres ransom, each of his adventurers secured 300 crowns, the Spaniards abandoning the defiles and carrying off their treasure to Conception.
This was the golden age of Buccaneering. Vauclin, Ovinet, and Tributor, plundered the towns of Cumana, Coro, St. Martha, and Nicaragua. Le Basque, with only forty men, surprised Maracaibo by night. He seized the principal inhabitants and shut them in the cathedral, and threatened to instantly cut off their heads if the citizens ventured to rise in arms. Daylight discovering his feeble force, he could obtain no ransom. The Flibustiers then retreated, each man driving a prisoner before him, a pistol slung in one hand and a naked sabre raised over the Spaniard's head in the other. These hostages were detained twenty-four hours, and released at the moment the French departed. This is the same Le Basque whom Charlevoix describes as cutting out the Margaret from under the cannon of Portobello, and winning a million piastres. At another time, they retreated laden with booty and carrying with them the Governor and the principal citizens of St. Jago; but the Spaniards, rallying, placed themselves, 1,000 in number, in an ambuscade by the way, trusting to their numbers and expecting an easy victory. The French, turning well, scarcely missed a shot, and in a short time killed 100 of the enemy's men, and, wounding a great many more, drove them off after two hours' fighting. They rallied and returned in a short time, determined to conquer or die; but the French, showing the prisoners, declared that if a shot was fired by the enemy they would kill them before their eyes, and would then sell their own lives dearly. This menace frightened the Spaniards, and the Flibustiers continued their retreat unmolested. Having waited some time in vain on the coast for the ransom, they left the prisoners unhurt, and returned gaily to Tortuga.
In 1663, Spain, finding that France in secret encouraged the Buccaneers of Hispaniola, gave orders to exterminate every Frenchman in the island, promising recompence to those who distinguished themselves in the war. An old Flemish officer, named Vandelinof, who had served with distinction in the Low Country wars, took the command. His first stratagem was to attempt to surprise the chief French boucan, at Gonaive, on the Brûlé Savannah, with 800 men. The hunters, observing them, gave the alarm, and, collecting 100 "brothers," advanced to meet them in a defile where the Spanish numbers were of no avail. The Fleming was killed at the first volley, and after an obstinate struggle the Spaniards fled to the mountains.
The enemy, after this defeat, returned to their old and safer plan of night surprises—which frequently succeeded, owing to the negligent watch kept by the Buccaneers. The hunters, much harassed by the constant sense of insecurity, began to retire every night to the small islands round St. Domingo, and seldom went alone to the chase. Some boucans, such as those at the port of Samana, grew rapidly into towns. Near this excellent harbour the cattle were unusually abundant, and in a few hours the Flibustier could carry his hides to his market at Tortuga. Gradually French and Dutch vessels began to visit the port to buy hides and to trade.