The Buccaneer Chief: A Romance of the Spanish Main

Montbarts had built his hatto, or principal residence, at the spot where the English afterwards formed Sandy-point battery.

It was an excellently chosen position, militarily speaking, where, in case of attack, it was easy not only to act on the defensive, but also to repulse the enemy with serious loss.

This hatto, built of trunks of trees, and covered with palm leaves, stood nearly at the extremity of a cape, whence the greater part of the island and the sea for a considerable distance on the right and left could be commanded. This cape, which was nearly precipitous, and one hundred and fifty feet high seawards, could only be reached by a narrow, rough path, intersected at regular distances by strong palisades, and wide, deep ditches, which had to be crossed on planks, that were easy to remove. Two four-pounder guns, placed in position at the head of the path guarded the approaches.

This hatto was divided into four rather large rooms, furnished with a luxury and comfort rather singular in an out-of-the-way island like St. Kitts, but which was fully justified by the usual occupation of the owner, who merely required to take any furniture that suited him out of his prizes.

A long pole, serving as a flagstaff, planted in front of the door of the hatto, displayed in the breeze a white ensign with a red jack in the right hand top corner. This flag was that of the corsairs, which Montbarts sometimes changed for one all black, having in its centre a death's head and crossbones, all white. This was an ill-omened flag, which, when hoisted at the peak, signified that the conquered had no hope of mercy to expect.

It was a warm day towards the end of May, about eighteen months after Montbarts' arrival at St. Kitts. Several persons, stern looking and rough mannered, almost armed to the teeth, were conversing together as they followed the path that led from the plain to the platform on which Montbarts' hatto stood.

It was nearly ten o'clock at night, and the sky was transparent and clear. Thousands of stars sparkled in the heavens, the moon profusely shed her white light, and the atmosphere was so pellucid, that the smallest objects were visible at a long distance. There was not a breath in the air, or a rustle among the leaves; the sea, calm as a mirror, died away with a soft and mysterious murmur on the sandy beach; the fireflies buzzed noisily, and at times dashed against the pedestrians, who contented themselves with driving them away with their hands, without, on that account, interrupting a conversation which seemed greatly to interest them.

These men were five in number, and all in the prime of life. Their features were energetically marked, and their faces revealed audacity and resolution carried to the highest pitch. Their slightly curved shoulders, and the way in which they straddled their legs in walking, while swaying their arms, would have caused them to be recognised as sailors at the first glance, had not their dress sufficiently proved the fact.

They were talking in English.

"Stuff!" one of them was saying at the moment when we join in their conversation; "We must see. All that glistens is not gold, as they say down there. Besides, I wish for nothing better than to be mistaken, after all."

"No matter," another replied; "in accordance with your laudable custom, you begin by expressing a doubt."

"Not at all," the first speaker sharply interposed; "a fear, at the most."

"Well," a third said; "we shall soon know what we have to expect, for here we are halfway up the path, thank Heaven!"

"That demon of a Montbarts," the first went on, "has famously chosen his position. His hatto is impregnable, on my word as a man."

"Yes. I do not think that the gavachos[1 - Term of contempt for the Spaniards.] will ever venture to attempt an escalade. But, by the way," he added suddenly, and halted; "suppose we are taking a useless walk, and Montbarts is not at home?"

"I will answer for your finding him at home, Red Stocking, so set your mind at rest."

"How do you know?" asked the man addressed by this singular name.

"My God! Don't you see his flag hoisted at the masthead?"

"That is true. I had not noticed it."

"But now you see it, I suppose?"

"I should be blind if I didn't."

"Well," one of the filibusters said, who had hitherto maintained silence; "all this does not tell us why the meeting is to be held. Do you know anything about it, brother?"

"No more than you," Red Stocking replied. "It is probably some daring project which Montbarts is meditating, and wishes us to take a part in."

"But you know that he has not only summoned us, but also the principal French filibusters?"

"In that case I am quite at sea," Red Stocking remarked. "However, it is of little consequence at present, as I presume we shall soon know what is wanted of us."

"That is true, because we have arrived."

In fact, they reached at this moment the head of the path, and found themselves on the platform exactly facing the hatto, whose door was open as if inviting them to enter.

A very bright light poured through the doorway, and the sound of loud talking testified that there was a rather large gathering inside the hatto.

The Englishmen continued to advance, and soon found themselves on the threshold.

"Come in, brothers," Montbarts' harmonious voice was heard saying from the interior; "come in, we are waiting for you."

They entered.

Six or seven persons were assembled in the room, which they entered: they were the most renowned chiefs of the filibusters. Among them were Belle Tête (handsome head), the ferocious native of Dieppe, who had murdered more than three hundred of his engagés, whom he accused of dying of indolence; Pierre le Grand, the Breton, who always boarded the Spanish galleons in the disguise of a female; Alexandre Bras de fer (iron arm), a young and apparently frail and delicate man, with effeminate features, but in reality endowed with a prodigious and herculean vigour, and destined hereafter to become one of the heroes of the buccaneering trade; Roc, surnamed the Brazilian, although born at Groningen, a town in East Friesland; and lastly, two old acquaintances of ours, Bowline and Michael the Basque, who both arrived at St. Kitts at the same time as Montbarts, and whose reputation as filibusters was already great.

As for the English, who had just entered the hatto, five in number; they were Red Stocking, whose name was mentioned in the preceding conversation; Morgan, a young man hardly eighteen years of age, with a haughty face and aristocratic manners; Jean David, a Dutch sailor, settled in the eastern part of the island; Bartholomew, a Portuguese, also settled in the English colony; and lastly, William Drake, who had taken an oath never to attack the Spaniards, unless they were in the proportion of fifteen to one, so great was the contempt he professed for the proud nation.

It was, as we see, a select gathering of all the great filibusters of the day.

"You are welcome, brothers," said Montbarts; "I am glad to see you, for I was awaiting you impatiently. Here are pipes, tobacco, and spirits; smoke and drink," he added, pointing to a table placed in the centre of the room.

The filibusters sat down, lighted pipes, and filled glasses.

"Brothers," Montbarts resumed a moment later, "I have requested you to come to my hatto for two reasons of great importance, and of which the second necessarily depends on the first: are you prepared to listen to me?"

"Speak, Montbarts," William Drake answered in the name of all; "you, whom the gavachos have surnamed the Exterminator, a name I envy you, brother, for you can only wish the good of filibustering."

"That is the very subject," Montbarts answered.

"I was sure of it, brother. Speak, we will listen to you religiously."

They prepared to listen attentively. All these energetic men, who recognised no laws but those themselves had made, knew not what envy was, and were ready to discuss with the most entire good faith the proposals which they foresaw Montbarts desired to make to them.

The latter reflected for a moment, and then spoke in a gentle voice, whose sympathetic accent soon captivated his audience.

"Brothers," he said, "I will be brief, for you are picked men, with warm hearts and firm hands, with whom a long speech is not only useless, but also ridiculous Since my arrival at St. Kitts, I have been studying filibustering, its life, manners, and aspirations, and I have recognised with sorrow that the results do not justify its efforts. What are we doing? Nothing, or almost nothing. In spite of our indomitable courage, the Spaniards laugh at us; too weak, owing to our isolation, to inflict serious losses on them, we expend our energy in vain; we shed our blood, to take from them a few wretched vessels. It is not thus that matters ought to go on; this is not the vengeance which each of us dreamed of. What is the cause of our relative weakness toward our formidable enemy? The isolation, to which I alluded just now, and which will forever paralyze our efforts."

"That is true," Red Stocking muttered.

"But how can we alter it?" David asked.

"Alas!" William Drake added, "The remedy is unfortunately impossible."

"We are adventurers merely, and not a power," said Belle Tête.

Montbarts smiled – that pale, peculiar smile of his, which turned the heart cold.

"You are mistaken, brothers," he said, "the remedy is found; if we like, we shall soon be a power."

"Speak, speak, brother," all the adventurers exclaimed, springing up.