Sir Henry Morgan, Buccaneer. Cyrus Townsend Brady
I did not even invent the blowing up of the English frigate in the action with the Spanish ships.
If I have assumed for the nonce the attributes of that unaccountably somnolent Fate, and brought him to a terrible end, I am sure abundant justification will be found in the recital of his mythical misdeeds, which, I repeat, were not a circumstance to his real transgressions. Indeed, one has to go back to the most cruel and degenerate of the Roman emperors to parallel the wickednesses of Morgan and his men. It is not possible to put upon printed pages explicit statements of what they did. The curious reader may find some account of these "Gentlemen of the Black Flag," so far as it can be translated into present-day books intended for popular reading, in my volume of "Colonial Fights and Fighters."
The writing of this novel has been by no means an easy task. How to convey clearly the doings of the buccaneer so there could be no misapprehension on the part of the reader, and yet to write with due delicacy and restraint a book for the general public, has been a problem with which I have wrestled long and arduously. The whole book has been completely revised some six times. Each time I have deleted something, which, while it has refined, I trust has not impaired the strength of the tale. If the critic still find things to censure, let him pass over charitably in view of what might have been!
As to the other characters, I have done violence to the name and fame of no man, for all of those who played any prominent part among the buccaneers in the story were themselves men scarcely less criminal than Morgan. Be it known that I have simply appropriated names, not careers. They all had adventures of their own and were not associated with Morgan in life. Teach—I have a weakness for that bad young man—is known to history as "Blackbeard"—a much worse man than the roaring singer of these pages. The delectable Hornigold, the One-Eyed, with the "wild justice" of his revenge, was another real pirate. So was the faithful Black Dog, the maroon. So were Raveneau de Lussan, Rock Braziliano, L'Ollonois, Velsers, Sawkins, and the rest.
In addition to my desire to write a real story of a real pirate I was actuated by another intent. There are numberless tales of the brave days of the Spanish Main, from "Westward Ho!" down. In every one of them, without exception, the hero is a noble, gallant, high-souled, high-spirited, valiant descendant of the Anglo-Saxon race, while the villain—and such villains they are!—is always a proud and haughty Spaniard, who comes to grief dreadfully in the final trial which determines the issue. My sympathies, from a long course of reading of such romances, have gone out to the under Don. I determined to write a story with a Spanish gentleman for the hero, and a Spanish gentlewoman for the heroine, and let the position of villain be filled by one of our own race. Such things were, and here they are. I have dwelt with pleasure on the love affairs of the gallant Alvarado and the beautiful Mercedes.
But, after all, the story is preëminently the story of Morgan. I have striven to make it a character sketch of that remarkable personality. I wished to portray his ferocity and cruelty, his brutality and wantonness, his treachery and rapacity; to exhibit, without lightening, the dark shadows of his character, and to depict his inevitable and utter breakdown finally; yet at the same time to bring out his dauntless courage, his military ability, his fertility and resourcefulness, his mastery of his men, his capacity as a seaman, which are qualities worthy of admiration. Yet I have not intended to make him an admirable figure. To do that would be to falsify history and disregard the artistic canons. So I have tried to show him as he was; great and brave, small and mean, skilful and able, greedy and cruel; and lastly, in his crimes and punishment, a coward.
And if a mere romance may have a lesson, here in this tale is one of a just retribution, exhibited in the awful, if adequate, vengeance finally wreaked upon Morgan by those whom he had so fearfully and dreadfully wronged.
CYRUS TOWNSEND BRADY.
Brooklyn, N.Y., December, 1902.
Note.—The date of the sack of Panama has been advanced to comply with the demands of this romance.
ILLUSTRATIONS
| By J.N. Marchand | |
| Sir Henry Morgan—Buccaneer | Frontispiece |
| With the point of his own sword pressed against the back of his neck, he repeated the message which Morgan had given him (see page 39) | 41 |
| Their blades crossed in an instant … There was a roar from Carib's pistol, and the old man fell (see page 87) | 89 |
| Morgan instantly snatched a pistol from de Lussan's hand and shot the man dead (see page 138) | 139 |
| Alvarado threw his right arm around her, and with a force superhuman dragged her from the saddle (see page 217) | 215 |
| The moonlight shone full upon her face, and as he stooped over he scanned it with his one eye (see page 267) | 269 |
| … he reached the summit—breathless, exhausted, unhelmed, weaponless, coatless, in rags; torn, bruised, bleeding, but unharmed (see page 332) | 333 |
| … he threw the contents at the feet of the buccaneer, and there rolled before him the severed head of … his solitary friend (see page 412) | 413 |
| Hell had no terror like to this, which he, living, suffered (see page 443) | 441 |
| By Will Crawford | |
| "To our next meeting, Mr. Bradley" (see page 44) | 25 |
| There was one man … who did not join in the singing (see page 49) | 45 |
| Carlingford had risen in his boat … and with dauntless courage he shook his bared sword (see page 91) | 81 |
| The high poop and rail of the Spaniard was black with iron-capped men (see page 121) | 115 |
| "Wilt obey me in the future?" cried the captain (see page 143) | 128 |
| "Are you in a state for a return journey at once, señor?" he asked of the young officer (see page 173) | 161 |
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"The fault is mine," said Alvarado (see page 183)
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