The scheme was adopted, but resolved once more to try negotiation, now that he was prepared for the worst, Morgan wrote again to Don Alonso, offering to leave Maracaibo uninjured, surrender all the prisoners, half the slaves, and to give up the hostages. The Don, trusting in his superior strength, and believing Morgan fairly intimidated or at least entirely in his mercy, refused to listen to any terms but those he had proposed, adding, that in two days he should come and force him to yield. Morgan resolved upon this to fight his way out and surrender nothing, his men, though discouraged, being still brave and desperate. All things were put in order to fight. The Englishman of Morgan's crew proceeded as fast as possible with his brûlot, or fire-ship. He took the small vessel captured in the Rivière des Espines, and filled it full of palm-leaves dipped in tar, and a mixture of brimstone and gunpowder. He put several pounds of powder under each of the ten sham guns, which were formed of negro drums. The partitions of the cabins were then broken down, so that the flame might spread unimpeded. The crew were wooden posts, dressed up with swords, muskets, bandoliers, and hats or montero caps. This fire-ship bore the English colours, so that it might pass for Morgan's vessel; and in eight days, by all hands working upon it, it was ready. During the preparation an extra guard was kept upon the prisoners, for one escaping would have destroyed all their hopes of safety. The male prisoners were kept in one boat, and the females, slaves, plate, and jewels in another. In others, guarded by twelve men each, came the merchandise. The brûlot was to go first and grapple with the admiral's ship.
All things being now completed, Morgan, with a heart as gay as if he fought for God and the right, made his men take the usual Buccaneer oath, employed on all occasions of pressing danger, when mutual confidence was peculiarly necessary. They vowed to fight till death, and neither to give nor take quarter. He promised a reward to all who distinguished themselves, exciting all the strongest feelings of their nature—revenge, avarice, and self-preservation.
With these desperate resolves, full of hope, for they were accustomed to consider his promises of victory as certain prophecies, they set sail on the 30th day of April, 1669, to seek the Spaniards.
They found the Spanish fleet riding at anchor in the middle of the entry of the lake, like gaolers of their spacious prison. It being late and almost dark, Morgan gave orders to anchor within range of the enemy, determined to resist if attacked, but to wait for light. They kept a strict watch, and at daybreak lifted anchor and set sail, bearing down straight upon the Spaniards, who, seeing them move, advanced to meet them.
Poor fishing boats the Buccaneers' barks seemed beneath those proud floating castles; "but the race is not always to the swift, nor the battle to the strong." The brûlot sailed first, pushing on to the admiral's vessel, which lay stately between its two companions, and was suffered to approach within cannon shot. The Spaniards believing that it was Morgan's vessel, and intended to board them, waited till it came closer to crush it with a broadside. They little thought that they were fighting with the elements. The fire-ship fell upon the Spaniard and clung to its sides, like a wild cat on an elephant. Too late the Spaniard attempted to push her off, but the flames had already leaped from their lurking places; first the sails were swathed in fire, then the tackling shrivelled up, and soon the solid timbers burst into a blaze. The stern was first consumed, and the fore part sank hissing into the sea. The wretched crew, flying from one element to the other, perished, some by fire, some by water; the half-drowning clung to the burning planks and withered in the glare; the burning sailors were sucked down by the vortex of the sinking wreck. Don Alonso, seeing the danger, called out to them in vain to cut down the masts, and, throwing himself with difficulty into his sloop, escaped to land. The sailors, refusing quarter, were allowed to perish by the Buccaneers' boats' crews, who at first offered to save them. Perhaps the recollection of their oath lessened their exertions.
The boats were pulling round the burning vessel in hopes of saving plunder, and not of saving lives. The second vessel was boarded by the Buccaneers and taken, in the confusion, almost without resistance. The third ship, cutting its cables, drifted towards the fort, and there ran ashore, the crew setting fire to her to prevent capture. The Buccaneers, proud of their victory, determined to push it to extremities by landing and attempting to storm the fort at the bar, without ladders, and relying only on their hand grenades, but their artillery was too small to make any practicable breach. The fort they found well supplied with men, cannon, and ammunition. The garrison had not suffered personally by the loss of a fleet manned by strangers, and they repulsed all attacks. Unwilling to retire, Morgan spent the whole of the day till dusk in firing muskets at any defenders who showed themselves above the walls, and at dusk lit them up with a shower of fireballs, but the Spaniards desperately resisted, and shot so furiously at them as to drive them back to the ships, with the loss of thirty killed and as many wounded—more loss than they had suffered in the capture of Maracaibo and Gibraltar, while the fleet had been destroyed without the loss of a single man. The garrison, expecting a fresh attack at daybreak, laboured all night to strengthen their works, levelling the ground towards the sea, and throwing up entrenchments from spots that commanded the castle.
The next day Morgan, not intending to renew the attack, employed himself in saving the Spanish sailors who were still floating on charred pieces of the wreck; not rescuing them from mercy, but in order to make them help in recovering part of the sunk treasure. They acknowledged that Don Alonso had compelled them before the engagement, after they had confessed to the chaplain, to come and take an oath to give the enemy no quarter, which was the reason many had refused to be saved. The admiral's vessel, the Magdalene, had carried thirty-eight guns and twelve small brass pieces, and was manned by 350 sailors; the second, the St. Louis, had thirty-four guns and 200 men; and the third, the Marquise, twenty-two guns and 150 men. The Marquise derived its name from the Marquis de Coquin, who had fitted it out as a privateer. The Concepcion and Nostra Signora de la Soledad, two larger vessels, had been sent back to Spain from Carthagena; a fourth, Nostra Signora del Carmen (for the Spaniards generally drew the names of their war vessels from the lady of love and peace), had sunk near Campeachy.
The pilot of the smaller vessel being saved, and promised his life, disclosed all Don Alonso's plans. He had been sent, upon the tidings of the loss of Porto Bello, by direction of the supreme council of state, with orders to root out the English pirates in those parts, and to destroy as many as he could, for dismal lamentations had been made to the court of Spain, to the Catholic king, to whom belonged the care and preservation of the New World, of the damages and hostilities committed by the English, and he had resolved to punish these proceedings and avenge his subjects. The king of England being complained to, constantly replied that he never gave any letters-patent to such men or such ships. Sending home his more cumbrous ships, the Don had heard at St. Domingo of the fleet sailing from Jamaica, and a prisoner, taken at Alta Grecia, disclosed Morgan's plan on the Caraccas. On arriving there the wild fire had already broken out at Maracaibo a second time, and hither he came to extinguish it. A negro slave had indeed informed the admiral of the fire-ship, but with short-sighted pride he derided the idea, saying that the English had had neither wit, tools, nor time to build it.
The pilot who made these disclosures was rewarded by Morgan, and, yielding to his promises, entered into his service. He informed him, with the usual zeal of a deserter, that there was plate to the value of 40,000 pieces of eight in the sunken ship, for he had seen it brought on board in boats. The divers eventually recovered 2000 pounds' worth of it, some "in plate" and others in piastres, that had melted into large lumps, together with many silver hilts of swords and other valuables.