University of Virginia Library

1. CHAPTER I.

The earliest dawning of a lovely summer day,
in the year 1659, was pouring its sweet light, unclouded
yet with that fierce heat which renders
almost insupportable the noontide hours, over the
forests which encircled, with a belt of ever-during
verdure, the Spanish city of St. Augustine. It
was already in those days a place of much importance,
with nunneries, and steepled churches,
and terraced dwellings, with white walls and jalousies
peeping from out the foliage of dark orange
groves, and all those beautiful peculiarities of
semi-Moorish taste, which lend so much of poetry
and of romance to the old towns of Spain. It had its
flanking walls, its ditches, and its palisades, presenting
their impregnable resistance to the fierce
and wily Indian, whom the relentless cruelty of
the white colonist, of whatsover nation, had at
length goaded into systematic and continual hostility;
in seaward bastions, with water-gate and
demilune, mounted with heavy cannon, and garrisoned
by old Castilians, under an officer who
bore the style of royal governor.

Such was the aspect of the place at the conclusion
of the first century which had elapsed since
its foundation; nurtured into undue maturity by
the stern bigotry and energetic enterprise of that
land, which had filled the southern continent with
giant-cities, over whose ramparts floated its proud
motto of Plus Ultre, making every spot whereon
its sons had set a foot by massacre and bloodshed
and drained from El Dorado—as they justly termed
it—these vast but fatal treasures, which raised it
for a little while above all nations of the earth,
only to plunge it in the end into effeminacy and
ruin and effete barbarism.

The heavy dews, as they were exhaled by the
rising day god, teemed with the incense of unnumbered
perfumes wafted from the ten thousand vegetable
wonders which had given name to that
peninsula, wherein credulity, insatiate of all that
nature had bestowed with profuse bounty, had
placed the seat of all those monstrous fictions
which alchemists had palmed upon their dupes,
until they brought themselves to deem them real.
The land-breeze swept far seaward the rich odors
from the orange groves, and the vast forests
whence gleamed frequently the snowy chalices of
the superb magnolia, and the dense star-like blossoms
of the flowering dogwood, and colored the
azure waters of the Gulf into a thousand tiny
wavelets, which sparkled with innumerable smiles
to the bright heaven, while the thrilling and prolonged
notes of the emulous mocking-birds—
nightingales of the west, with scarce inferior
song—made every thing resound with their rich
liquid melody. On earth—on ocean—and in the
cloudless ether all was calm, lovely, peaceful—
but on the bastions of the town there was the din
of arms, the dissonant harsh clang of mingled
voices, the hurrying to and fro of soldiery, the
long roll of the drum beating to arms in haste,
blent with the piercing strain of trumpets, and the
continuous peal of bells, rung backward, as it
seemed, in token of dismay and danger.

Beneath the yellow flag with its tri-castled
blazonry, surrounded by a group of noble-looking
men, clad for the most part in the half-armor of
the day, with much of waving plumage, rich lace,
and fair embroidery, stood the governor, Juan Melendez
de Aviles, descendant of that Pedro, of the
same noble name, who, by an exertion of both
skill and valor, which, had they not been tarnished

by the most fiendish cruelty, would have
been deemed heroical, won for the second Philip
that fair province from the French Huguenots of
Coligny. The eyes of all that little group were
intently fixed upon the sea, from which it would
appear the apprehended danger—if apprehended
danger it were, that gave rise to those takens of
surprise and prepartion—was most to be expected;
and in the visages of all, an evident expression of
anxiety and doubt was marked, in its least doubtful
character. But in the face of no one there,
were there such signs of perturbation and dismay,
as in that of the governor. He was a man of large
and heavy build, a veteran of many a bloody war,
with limbs which, although deprived somewhat
of agility and lightness by the unsparing hand of
time, were cast in a mould of iron; his features
prominent, bold, and haughty, with a world of
iron resolution in the firmly-compressed mouth
and massive jaw, and a glance of intolerable fire
in the dark eye; and his bearing, such as became
a cavalier to whom the camp and court had been
alike familiar from his first boyhood. But now
his rich dress was in disarray; a leathern shoulder-belt
with an immense two-handed sword attached
to it, and a display of cumbersome and ill-wrought
pistols thrust hastily into a broad buff-girdle, assorted
illy with a fair garb of courtly fashion; his
long hair, once as black as jet, but now discolored
with full many a streak of wintry gray, hung in
disordered masses over his broad brow, lank, and
uncurled, and graceless—and on his brow the perspiration
stood in drops, like bubbles on the bosom
of some turbid stream—and the deep olive tints
of his complexion were an unnatural and ghastly
hue—and, as he grasped a powerful perspective-glass
with which he ever and anon swept the horizon,
his fingers might be seen to work in quick
convulsive twitches, as though they would have
bedded themselves into the polished brass.

“Nothing!” he said, after a long and wistful
gaze, “I can see nothing seaward. Yet right
sure am I, that those sounds were of far-distant
ordnance. It is the twelfth too of the month, and
long ere this, the caravel we were advised of
should have been safe in harbor. Hark! hark!
heard ye not then,” he cried, “heard ye not that
dull roar to the eastward? Pedro, Gutierrez,
hearken—what say ye, cavaliers, is't not the voice
of ordnance?”

“Past doubt, it is,” replied the elder of the
gentlemen he had addressed, “and heavy ordnance
too.”

“And lo! a sail!” exclaimed the other, who
had directed his glass instantly toward the quarter
whence the sounds proceeded, “I marvel how
we saw her not before. Here! here, your Excel
lency! here! bring you palmetto in the range of
the east angle of the demilune, and you will catch
her! Now, by St. Jago, I can see her to the
courses; three tiers of wide-spread canvas!”

“I have her now,” replied Melendez, thoughtfully,
“I have her now. 'Tis she; it is El
Santo Espiritu, past doubt; but wherefore was
she firing? Pray heaven, these cursed English,
these infernal rovers, be not upon her track!”

“I fear me much it is so,” answered Gutierrez.
“I fear me much it is so; for ever and anon, I
fancy I catch glimpses, as they rise upon the
waves, of smaller sails behind, and further yet to
the eastward. Lo! now, in range with you skiff
upon the beach—there! it has sunk again—and
now, again, I catch it!”

“Ay! and again she fires! pray heaven she
have the heels of them; once under our guns, she
were in safety from any armament which they can
bring against her!”

Meanwhile the vessel, which had been first
seen hull-down in the far offing, was rising rapidly
as she drew near, not having met as yet the
counter-influence of the land-breeze—but scarce
less rapidly rose, one by one, the smaller barques,
which had at first escaped the notice of the eager
and excited watchers; until five low and rakish
craft, with long yard-arms and lateen sails, might
be distinctly seen in chase of the tall frigate.—
One somewhat larger than the rest, three-masted,
but of the same taunt and picarooning build, was
now so near astern, that she was able to keep up
a constant firing from her bow-guns, which the
caravel returned with her stern-chasers; though
it was evident by the rate at which she rode
the waves, staggering along with every stitch of
sail set that could draw, that she was most sincerely
anxious to avoid close action with her diminutive
antagonist. An hour had elapsed at
most since she had been at first made out; and
had there been any thing of real doubt as to the
nation of the frigate, or the character of her pursuers,
that doubt was now entirely at an end; for
at the distance of about five miles, by the aid of
strong glasses, it was not difficult to note the castled
bows and poop of the tall caravella, bristling
with culverin and demi-cannon, or to distinguish
the proud bearings of Castile upon the yellow
colors, which, in the hope perhaps of bringing
help and succor from the friendly fort and city, she
wore not only at her three mastheads, but at the
bowsprit-end, and at some six or seven other points
conspicuous in her rigging. Meanwhile, the foremost
of the chasing squadron had hoisted at her
main the snowy field of England, with the broad
bright St. George's cross, while at the peak of
each one of her long yard-arms, a blooded flag

with the black skull and cross-bones proclaimed
her real character.

And now the agony of Juan de Melendez had
become fearfully, intensely visible; to and fro
upon the narrow esplanade above the water-gate,
with quick, uneven steps, and features haggard
with excitement, did he stalk during that long
hour; now pausing for an instant to note the progress
of the chase, and now with a despairing gesture
again resuming his distracted walk—his officers
surveying him the while with looks denoting
deep commiseration, but more of that surprise,
which must have been felt by men ignorant of the
cause of his strange gestures and bewildered mien.

“She will escape them yet! Be of good cheer,”
cried one, a young and noble-looking gallant, “be
of good cheer, your Excellency; she brings the
sea-breeze up with her right manfully!”

“Ay doth she,” cried another, “for the nonce;
but wait till she strike the counter-blast; lo! you
may see it ruffling the surface now within a mile
of her!”

“And when she doth,” exclaimed the younger
officer, “she can beat in, I trow; tack and tack,
merrily; and they can but beat after her. Why
in half an hour more she will be safe here, under
our batteries!”

“Not so! not so!” cried Juan de Melendez,
mournfully, “she never will lie here at anchor
any more, if she trust to her sails! Curse on the
fool Davila, that turns not on that paltry picaroon,
and crushes her at three broadsides before her consorts
may come up! See you not, Pedro? and
see you not, Diego, who art a mariner so skillful—
see you not that the sea-breeze even now has failed
them, and that the land-wind dies away momently?
God! God of my fathers! that we must stand
here helpless, and strike no blow in her behalf.
Yet! yet! if he would tack, while he hath way
upon her, he might engage the pirate yard-arm to
yard-arm, and so quell him; but even now he loses;
he hath lost it! His sails flap idly to the mast; it
is dead calm! Fool! fool! accursed fool! and he
hath anchored.”

“But it is no less calm for them! picaroons
though they be, and manned by devils, yet cannot
they make sail, more than the caravella!”

“Look!” was the sole reply of the well-nigh
distracted governor—“Look!”—and it needed but
a glance to show that the ill-fated frigate had now,
indeed, no hope but in the vigor of her own defence—for
low and light, and built no less for oars
than sails, the wind had scarcely left them, a half
league at the most astern of the Spaniard, ere
they had furled their lateen sails, and getting out
their sweeps, came up scarce slower than before,
crowded with men whose weapons might be
seen momentarily glancing to the broad sunshine.

“My child—great God—my child!” cried Juan
de Melendez, his pale features writhing with horrible
intensity of anguish—“Would, would that
thou wert dead, Teresa! And is all lost?—is all
lost, gentlemen? Shake not your heads, look not
so gloomily upon me; can ye devise no scheme,
no hope, no possibility—and yet how should ye,
when we have neither boat, nor even store enough
of pirogues in the bay, to bear them any succor?
Oh! would, would Heaven, that I had died, I care
not how disgracefully, so that I were but dead,
ere I had been so fettered here, to look thus helpless
on the murder of my comrades—the worse
than murder of mine innocent and lovely child!
and, thou, Don Amadis, thou who hast dared to
lift the eyes of love to her—canst thou stand sta-tuelike
and mute, and strike no blow for her?
Canst thou endure almost to hear the shrieks, almost
to look upon the form, of her thou wouldst
have wedded, writhing in agony in the foul arms
of the licentious buccaneer! A man! a gentleman!
ha! ha! a soldier—ha! ha! ha! a man, a
gentleman, a soldier, and an old Castilian look
tamely on the violation of his bride, before the
very eyes of her insulted father!”

“Answer him not, Don Amadis”—the gray
haired veteran Pedro interposed—“answer him
not, I pray; this is sheer madness—the pardonable
madness of parental anguish! And you, Sir
Juan”—he continued, turning to the half-frantic
governor—“think you not if we were to clear
the long guns of the southern bastion, we might
yet drive those picarooning scoundrels from their
prey—methinks the caravella lies even now within
their range?”

“No! no! you but deceive yourselves—there
is no hope! none! none! Nathless we may essay
it—and see, Lavila hath slipped even now
his cables, hath got his boats out, and tows cheerily
toward us. Away there, ye knave cannoniers,
clear the long culverins, ourselves, we will go
down and point them.” And with these words,
followed by all his train, he hastily rushed down
the narrow stairway of the rampart, passed
through the sally-port, and in a moment was engaged
among the guns, with an anxiety and zeal
that for a moment quelled his mental agony.

The caravella now was but a short mile from the
seaward batteries, towed by the whole strength
of her crew, rowing with that tremendous energy
which consciousness that all is centered in his own
exertions, lends to the meanest and the feeblest
man that draws the breath of life! One half a
mile more would have ensured her safety. It was
a fearful chase! So close behind her was the best

manned and largest of the picaroons, that now the
fire, which had been for awhile suspended, again
became hot, animated, and destructive. And now
the mizzen of the caravel came thundering, with
all its hamper, over her groaning side, encumbering
her fatally, and lessening her way through the
calm waters; while at the sight a long, loud yell
of savage exultation burst from the desperadoes
who had wrought that ruin, and penetrated even
to the ears of the appalled spectators. Hitherto
no opportunity had been given to the Spaniards on
the fortress for firing a gun in aid of their companions;
since the three-masted galley, conscious
of her advantage, kept herself by her sweeps and
oars under the stern of the tall frigate, raking her
fore and aft by a continual fire of her single gun,
a culverin of the first class, avoiding thus alike
the heavy ordnance of her broadside, and the yet
heavier metal of the batteries, which were deterred
from firing lest they should injure their own
friends! But now two other of the pirates, which,
in the chase, had made each a long circuit on
the starboard and larboard tacks, keeping as
much as possible out of the frigate's range,
having shot far ahead of her, changed suddenly
their course, putting their bows each right toward
the other, and pulling with great speed to cut her
off from her desired haven. On these, at the same
instant, opened the frigate's fire, gun after gun
from both broadsides, a fierce incessant cannonade!
and the tremendous salvo of the batteries. The
whole shores seemed to rock with the concussion;
the little air there had been heretofore, stilled
by the fearful shock, sank utterly; and, ere ten
minutes had elapsed, the surface of the water was
covered by a dense mass of volumed smoke, so
closely packed that not an eye of all who gazed
so fearfully upon the scene, could note vessel, or
boat, or any living being, though still from out
the vapory cloud the glare of the incessant cannonading
might be seen crimsoning the misty
wreaths, which every shot augmented.

“Hold! hold!” after awhile exclaimed Melendez,
“let the smoke lift, this random firing goes
for naught; let it lift, we shall see anon!”

And at his orders instantly the firing from the
battery stopped, but not for that did the dense vapors
lift at all from the still surface of the waters,
nor did the prospect brighten—fed constantly as
were those murky clouds by the continual cannonading
of the vessels, which in no degree ceased
or abated. If the sight had been anxious heretofore,
the interest appalling, when every motion of
assailant or assailed might be distinctly noticed,
what must have been the anguish now, the
agony of expectation, when the fierce work of
death was doing at their very doors, under the
muzzles of their cannon, and they might neither
see, nor judge by any sense or sign, to which
side fortune was inclining. The first sound
that attracted any near attention, was the quick
dash of oars close to the beach; and, as each
countenance was instantly directed to the joyful
echo, boat after boat of those—it needed not a
second glance to tell it—which had been last seen
towing shoreward El Santo Espiritu, loomed
through the dusky veil, and, almost as they came
in sight, grated upon the shingly beach; while
their crews, throwing down their oars, rushed
madly up the slope in desperate confusion toward
the sally-port.

“Ten thousand curses on the dogs!” fiercely
hissed Juan de Melendez through his hard-set
teeth, “they have deserted her! but not the better
shall they fare for that; level your harquebuses,
guard; depress your culverins; sweep the deserting
scoundrels from the earth!”

But to his fiery command no answer was returned,
and no obedience rendered; for during the
last pause the firing had sunk, and from the bosom
of the smoke, wild cheers and all the tumult
of heavy fight were now distinctly audible. In a
few seconds' space, the vapors gradually lightened,
so that the vessels might be seen, though
faintly, clustered together in close contact. Anon
the breeze came up again, fitful at the first and
faint, but freshening at every moment; and then,
whirled upward from the now rippling waters,
the smoky masses were swept bodily to leeward,
leaving the whole of the bright bay, the verdant
shores, and the pure heavens rejoicing in the gorgeous
sunshine.

Far in the middle of that bay lay the devoted
caravella, her sheets loosened and her canvas
flying disorderly and wild, while grappling to her
sides, her stern, her bows, the low barques of
the pirates hemmed her in, their savage crews
mounting her bulwarks in resistless numbers,
their brandished weapons glancing to the sun,
and their appalling yells deadening the hearts
of all who heard them. Unharmed by the guns
from the too distant ramparts, the light picaroons
had succeeded in cutting in between the frigate
and her boats; leaving no chance of safety to the
latter but precipitate and sudden flight, and to the
former no hope, save the precarious chances of a
pirate's mercy. Nor was it long in doubt to the
spectators what was that mercy; for ere the fight,
or massacre, more properly, upon her decks had
ceased, the wily desperadoes anchored just without
cannon shot; and as the Spanish ensign was
torn down, amid a tumult of tremendous exultation,
man after man of the defendants was hurled
overboard, so that their terror-stricken countrymen

upon the battlements might see the waters,
ever as they fell, lashed into froth and spray by
the ferocious sharks, which, taught by their voracious
instincts the consequence of battle, seized
each one, as he touched the surface, tugging and
snapping at each other for every palpitating morsel.
And still more terrible than this the howls
of men—howls, such as nothing but the utmost
and most excruciating tortures could force from
human lips—mixed with the shriller and more
piteous shrieks of women, told that the fate of
those, who had become a prey to the disgusting
fish, was but a boon of mercy when compared
to the more awful doom of those preserved from
the first carnage to satiate the victor's love of
blood or beauty.

All day long did this fearful sight continue—all
day long were the heavens polluted, by the atrocious
deeds they were compelled to witness,
pierced by the frantic cries of those who called on
them in vain for succor or for mercy. The evening
was now drawing nigh, although, perhaps,
some three hours yet remained of daylight; when
by a simultaneous movement on the frigate's
decks, it might be judged that some new project
had been fixed on by the buccaneers. Nor were
the garrison devoid, if not of absolute fear, at
least of much anxiety; since it was evident that
their relentless enemies were in great force, not
counting less, as they might calculate—from the
known habits of the Caribbean pirates of stowing
in their long low barques as many men as possibly
could be contained in them—than seven hundred
or perhaps a thousand soldiers; more fighting-men
than which St. Augustine could not, at
that day, have turned out, though to preserve herself
from utter ruin. Nor was it contrary by any
means, or foreign to the policy of these far-dreaded
rovers to attack villages, or even forts and
cities, when in sufficient numbers to render success
probable, and when enough of plunder or of
licentious pleasure might be looked forward to,
as the result of their bold daring! A levy of the
citizens en masse was instantly resorted to, arms
were distributed, even among the slaves, whose
terrors, not inferior to those of their masters, rendered
it safe to trust them with the weapons
which, at another time, they would have probably
directed against the bosoms of the givers.
Cannon were leveled, ammunition piled by every
gun, and all precautions taken which could ensure
a desperate resistance. The pallor and the gloom
had passed away from the dark visage of Melendez,
with the uncertainty which had so terribly
distracted him. Sure as he felt himself now to
be, that she, his treasured child, the only being
on whom his stern soul doated, had endured the
last and most appalling wo that can befall a woman!
that now her agonies—her innocence—her
woes—were at an end for ever! he had again resumed
his soldierly and high demeanor! His
face was deeply flushed; and his eyebrows contracted
over the fiery orbs they shaded, till these
could scarcely have been noted but for the flashes
of fierce light which they, at times, shot forth.
His lips alone were pale and ashy, so violent was
their compression over his clenched teeth!

“Would God,” said he, when every preparation
was concluded, “would God, that they might
try it! So should they feel a father's vengeance!”

Nor did it seem improbable that his vengeful
prayer would be immediately and fully granted;
for now the pirate-barques might be observed to
put off, one by one, from the dismantled and abandoned
frigate; a single small boat only waiting,
as it would seem, for their commander. Diverging
slowly, and in opposite directions, but carefully
preserving a safe distance from the batteries, they
came to anchor each after each, the nearest about
half a mile from their prize; and as the last
swung round, the crew of the remaining skiff
were seen getting in all haste to their oars. By
aid of their naked eyes, the Spaniards now beheld
a group of officers appear upon the bulwarks of
the caravel, from which were lowered instantly
three figures, two of which were females, into the
cutter at the gangways. All, then, passed over
the ship's side, but one, who, disappearing for a
moment, through the cabin hatch, returned bearing
a lighted flambeau; deliberately then he set
on fire, in some twenty different places, the
slighter cordage and the sails of the ill-fated ship,
and ere he glided down a rope into his boat, the
forked tongues of flame might be seen darting up
the shrouds and masts, like fiery serpents; and in
a few short minutes the whole of that magnificent
and stately fabric, which had so lately walked the
waters like a thing of life, was one huge pyramid
of roaring and devouring flame. Strongly and
rapidly did that boat's crew give way, and little
time enough had they to place themselves in
safety; for fired already in the hold before they
left her, they had not traversed half the space between
her and their nearest barque, before, with
an explosion that might be heard leagues away
into the pathless forest, startling the wild beast
and the wilder Indian in his lair, and with a wide
and circling glare that for an instant made the
broad daylight pallid, the caravel blew up! A
mass of pitchy smoke settled for a short space
upon the water where she lay; and as it drifted
seaward, a few rent planks and mouldering spars
were all remaining of that noblest work of man's
invention.

After a little while, the skiff came to under the
lee of the three-masted picaroon, and nothing
more was seen by the excited Spaniards, until a
burst of flame from a bow-port of the felucca, and
the dull roar of an unshotted gun, woke their attention.
With the report, down came the English
ensign from the fore, down came the red flag
from her peak, and in succession a broad white
field, in sign of truce and amity, waved in the
place of each. Upon the signal, each in succession
of the pirates fired a leeward gun, and hoisted
a white flag; and next, ere half an hour had
elapsed, all the boats of the squadron, twenty at
least in number, might be seen to put off from the
barques, each bearing the same amicable signal
at their bows; and after joining, which they did
at the first practicable point, to pull on steadily,
in beautiful and accurate array, toward the
shore.

Eagerly did the Spaniards watch these singular
manæuvres, and with keen scrutiny did they observe
each several barge; but it was not until
they had arrived within a short space of the
beach, that they might make out clearly the
forms or features of those who occupied them.
Nor could they as yet do this to their satisfaction,
when observing that no flag of truce was displayed
from the ramparts, they became stationary,
just without the surf, pulling a stroke or two at
times merely to hold their own, for the tide was
now fast ebbing. Scarce had they halted, before
a figure rose up in the bow of the central boat—
a powerful barge pulling with forty oars—and
waving a white flag about his head, shouted some
words, which did not reach, however, the ears for
which they were intended, although there could
be no doubt of their import.

“Shall we respond to their signal, fair Senor!”
exclaimed the veteran Diego: “I trow 'twere
best to answer them! it may be well, they hold
some of our friends to ransom!”

“No truce; no flag!” fiercely replied Melendez,
“I waited but to get them within our point
blank range! take good sight, cannoniers! look
to your matches! fi—”

“Hold! for God's sake, hold!” cried young
Don Amadis, leaping before the muzzle of the
gun, and grasping by the arm the impetuous
governor. “See you not there,” and, with the
eyes almost starting from his head, and lips apart,
and outstretched hands, he pointed to the signal-boat.
“See you not it is she?”

Slowly Melendez caught his meaning—turned
his glass toward the barge, wherein the quick eye
of the youthful lover had detected the form of his
intended bride—dropped it from his unnerved and
powerless hand—and with a quick shrill cry—
“My daughter—my Teresa!” sunk helpless as a
child, into the arms of his attendants; while,
catching instantly their cue, the cannoniers flung
down their linstocks, and in three minutes' time
a flag of truce was waving in the place of Castile's
gorgeous blazonry.