Captain William Kidd and Others of the Buccaneers

The Spaniards, having secreted themselves, watched all these movements. They supposed that the buccaneers, stupefied with drink, would ere long fall helplessly asleep. The Spaniards would then creep cautiously upon them, and kill them all. But the cunning old buccaneer had taken good care that the brandy-flasks should all be empty. Not a single drop of intoxicating drink had the feigned revellers taken.

As soon as darkness veiled the scene the buccaneers all assembled in ambuscade, anticipating a midnight attack. Every musket was in order, and their brains were cool and uninflamed with drink. The Spaniards delayed their attack until daylight. As the hours lingered away, Montbar was restless, and chafed like a caged lion, saying that they would never come, and imploring permission to march out and attack them.

At daybreak the buccaneers discerned a dark line moving noiselessly over the ridge, and descending into the plain. They knew full well what this meant. Every movement was watched by the ambushed buccaneers. Cautiously the Spaniards advanced. They crossed the prairie, and entered the forest, intending to encircle the tent, which they supposed held the sleeping buccaneers.

Suddenly the woods seemed to burst into volcanic flame. The report of the musketry was followed with shout and yell, and the storm of lead swept through the ranks of the Spaniards, striking down scores, either in death or grievously wounded. The buccaneers rushed instantaneously upon their bewildered, staggered, bleeding foe. Montbar seemed animated by demonaical frenzy. He rushed upon the Spaniards in utter recklessness, regardless of their numbers, or of the support he should receive from his comrades. His heavy sabre flashed in all directions, as if wielded by tireless sinews of steel.

Soon he was quite in advance of his companions, and was alone in the very thickest of the Spanish squadron. He would inevitably have been cut down, had not the other buccaneers, astonished at his audacity, rushed to his rescue. Montbar’s sword was dripping with blood. He was in a frenzy of joy. Every blow he struck cut down a Spaniard. He exulted in the carnage, and ever after declared that this was the happiest day of his life. One grounded Spaniard clung to his knee begging for mercy. Montbar brought down his sabre upon his head, splitting it from crown to chin, fiercely exclaiming, “I wish that you were the last of this accursed race.” An eye-witness of the battle describes the carnage as horrible. Nearly every Spaniard was destroyed. The victors, all absorbed in their bloody work, stumbled over the dying and the dead, deaf to every cry for mercy.

The buccaneers were astonished and delighted by the prowess which Montbar had displayed. They entreated him to remain and become their captain. But a signal gun, fired by his uncle, called him back to the ship. Montbar was placed as captain on board the large ship which his uncle had captured. Many of the pirates eagerly engaged to serve under him.

After a sail of eight days these two vessels encountered four Spanish war-ships, each one larger than either of those commanded by Montbar or his uncle. One of the most desperate of naval battles ensued. The elder Montbar was attacked by two of the ships. For three hours they struggled, grappled together, receiving and giving the most terrible broadsides. At last the three sank together in one watery grave. The uncle, it is said, rejoicing to drag the two other ships with him, went down laughing.

Montbar, with his crashing shot, succeeded at length in sinking one of the ships assailing him, and then he boarded the other. The terror-stricken crew threw themselves into the water. The floating bodies presented targets for the buccaneers. No quarter was shown. Montbar rushed up and down the decks killing all he could reach. His courage and accomplishments were so marvellous, that his comrades regarded him with superstitious reverence, as endowed with more than mortal powers. He himself ever averred that he was God’s appointed messenger, to avenge the wrongs the Spaniards had inflicted upon the Indians. It is not known that a single individual escaped from these four Spanish ships.

Montbar had now two vessels at his command. He engaged many other buccaneers in his service, and soon had an army of nearly eight hundred men ready to follow him to the death. He swept the seas, and, often landing, ravaged the coasts. We have no detailed account of his subsequent career. One of his biographers writes:

“And this completes all that history has preserved of one of the strangest combinations of fanatic and soldier that has ever appeared since the days of Loyola. In another age, and under other circumstances, he might have been a second Mohammed. Equally remorseless, his ambition, though narrower, seems to have been no less fervid. If he was cruel, we must allow him to have been sincere even in his fanaticism. Daring, untiring, of unequalled courage and unmatched resolution, the cruelty of the Spaniards he put down by greater cruelty. He passes from us into unknown seas, and we hear of him no more. He died probably unconscious of crime, unpitying and unpitied.

“Oexemelin, who saw Montbar at Honduras, describes him as active, vivacious, and full of fire, like all the Gascons. He was of tall stature, erect and firm, his air grand, noble, martial. His complexion was sunburnt, and the color of his eyes could not be discerned under the deep, arched vaulting of his bushy eyebrows. His very glance in battle was said to intimidate the Spaniards, and to drive them to despair.”

*

The Monarchs of the Main, by George W. Thornbury, Esq., vol. ii. p. 35.

*

Monarchs of the Main, vol. i. p. 38.

*

His account was written in Dutch, but translated into English and published in London.

*

Monarchs of the Main, vol. ii. p. 114.

*

Monarchs of the Main, vol. ii. p. 159.