Pirates and Privateers
The History of Maritime Piracy

Cindy Vallar, Editor & Reviewer
P. O. Box 425, Keller, TX  76244-0425

---

It is said that once upon a time a band of buccaneers forced the gates of Heaven. St. Peter was anxious to get rid of these uninvited guests, who had clearly arrived at the wrong place. He hit on a stratagem worthy of the Brethren of the Coast. ‘A sail!’ he cried, pointing out of the doors of Paradise. ‘Where?’ demanded the buccaneers. ‘To leeward on the port quarter.’ ‘Chasse dessus!’ they cried as they incontinently rushed out of the gates, which were then slammed securely behind them. (Kemp, 1)

By the mid to late 1600s, the buccaneers had transformed from hunters to marauders who attacked ships at sea and raided, pillaged, and burned Spanish towns. Any Spaniard who defied them risked suffering excruciating torture and often death. Three men in particular were noted more for their cruelty than their successes at capturing treasure: Gerrit Gerritszoon, Bartolomeo Portugues, and Daniel Monbars. The first was Dutch, the second Portuguese, and the last French. Although they were as well-known as their contemporaries Jean David Nau, William Dampier, Henry Morgan, and Alexandre Exquemelin, history barely remembers them. So who were these men and what made them ill-suited to present themselves to Saint Peter?

Gerrit Gerritszoon was born in Groningen, a city in the Republic of the United Netherlands. The Dutch West India Company established a colony in Brazil in 1630, and his parents immigrated to Recife, where his father was a merchant. He was fluent in Dutch, Portuguese, and several Native American languages. He later added English and French to this repertoire, although he found the latter more difficult and wasn’t proficient in it. His skill with Spanish was such that some believed him to have been born and raised there. Aside from languages, he also mastered a variety of weaponry, both tribal and European.

When the Portuguese finally ousted the Dutch from Brazil in 1654, his family moved to Cagway, Jamaica (renamed Port Royal in 1660 after the restoration of the English monarchy). Gerrit went to sea and, around January 1663, signed aboard the Griffin. Captain Adriaen van Diemen Swart, a Dutch mercenary, commanded this frigate, which was part of Commodore Christopher Myngs’ fleet, bound for Mexico to attack Campeche. Griffin became separated somehow, and Swart opted to cruise the Cuban coast for prey. In March, he went ashore where he and the crew were attacked by Spanish militia. Twenty-eight of his men died, before the survivors returned to the frigate.

For much of the remainder of the year, the buccaneers foraged for food and equipment, while hunting for prizes. Gerrit “became very popular with the crew. A party of malcontents rallied to his side and parted company with their captain, taking a bark, of which they made [him] . . . captain.” (Marley, 148)  His first big success was the capture of Sevillana from Vera Cruz, Mexico, laden with gold and silver, which earned him “great renown . . . and in the end became so audacious he made all Jamaica tremble.” (Marley, 148)

He was a squat man with a barrel chest and covered with so much hair he resembled a bear. Once he joined the buccaneers, they “called him Rock the Brazilian” – a name that acquired a variety of spellings: Roc, Roche, Rokje, Little Rok, and Rocky, as well as Brasiliano. (Exquemelin, 80) Like most pirates, he and his men “wasted in a few days . . . all they had gained, by giving themselves over to every manner of debauchery.” (Marx, 51) Sober, he was polite, friendly, and showed good judgment. When drunk, he became a different person.

[H]e would roam the town like a madman. The first person he came across, he would chop off his arm or leg, without anyone daring to intervene, for he was like a maniac. He perpetrated the greatest atrocities possible against the Spaniards. Some of them he tied or spitted on wooden stakes and roasted them alive between two fires, like killing a pig . . . (Exquemelin, 80)

According to Dr. Hans Sloane, Henry Morgan’s physician, “‘Rocky a Privateer’ had a reputation for killing sharks with daggers – while swimming in the sea with them.” (Little, Golden, 153)

Back in Europe, the relationship between England and the Netherlands worsened, and in the spring of 1665, Sir Thomas Modyford, governor of Jamaica, decided to strike first. Under the leadership of Colonel Edward Morgan, the deputy-governor, Rock and his men participated in a plan “to fall upon the Dutch fleet trading at St. Christopher’s, capture Eustatia, Saba, and Curaçao, and on their homeward voyage visit the French and English buccaneers at Hispaniola and Tortuga.” (Marley, 148) Nine vessels left Jamaica, and in July, Colonel Morgan led 350 buccaneers ashore on Sint Eustatius. Although they succeeded in this first phase of the plan – capturing 910 slaves and a goodly amount of booty – Morgan succumbed from a heart attack. Without their leader, the buccaneers disbanded. Rock returned to cruising off Cuba, where a Spanish squadron gave chase. In January 1666, testimony before an Admiralty Court in Port Royal revealed that

Sam Sherdlaw and Garrett Garretson, alias Rocky, depose[d] to having been chased by Spanish men-of-war, one of which was the Griffin, which formerly belonged to His Majesty, and was commanded by Captain Swart. (Marley, 149)

In 1668, L’Olonnois captured an eighty-ton prize, armed with twelve guns, which he sold to Rock. Jelles de Lecat (nicknamed “Yellows”) became quartermaster. Also on board was Jan Erasmus Reyning, a buccaneer who opposed cruelty and might have invested in a cruise between Cartagena and the Mosquito Coast. In July, they assisted Henry Morgan in his sack of Portobello. David van der Sterre, a doctor who lived during this time period, wrote a biography of Reyning. According to him, Rock and his men attacked a Spanish brigantine before it could put into port. Using grappling hooks, they lashed the two vessels together while each battled the other with swivel guns, muskets, and grenades for an hour, before the buccaneers boarded the Spanish brigantine to fight hand-to-hand. When the battle ended, the majority of Spaniards were dead. One survivor was a boy, who had climbed over the stern rail and hung there over the water while the fighting raged.

Howard Pyle's There Was a Spirited Encounter Upon the Beach of Teviot Bay
(Pirates clip art from Dover)

Van der Sterre also recounted a time when three buccaneer vessels sailed in consort. Rock commanded one, Reyning the second, and Joseph Bradley the third. While bound for Nicaragua to seize Spanish vessels laden with logwood, from which a valuable dye was made, Quartermaster Yellows argued with Rock, who struck Yellows on the shoulder with his sword. Reyning learned of this and challenged Rock to a duel. He drew blood first, slicing Reyning across the stomach, but it was a slight wound. Reyning cut Rock’s chin. The fight continued until Rock suffered two additional wounds in his arm and forehead. He surrendered and the other two ships sailed away.

Roc and his men were shipwrecked on the Mexican coast between Campeche and Triste in 1669. The thirty-one men were only able to take along powder, shot, and muskets when they evacuated the ship. They headed for El Golfo Triste on foot, where there was a good chance they might encounter other buccaneers.

After three or four days they were worn out with hunger and thirst and the rough road, so that they could hardly go another step – but worst of all, they were observed by a party of a hundred Spanish cavalry who chanced to come that way.

Captain Rock urged his comrades on, saying he had no intention of giving himself up, but would rather die than be taken prisoner . . . The rovers . . . as their captain had put good heart into them, resolved to die with him rather than surrender. Meantime, the Spaniards were riding violently down on them. The rovers let them approach until they could not miss their aim, and every bullet found its mark. The battle went on for an hour, when the surviving Spaniards took flight. The buccaneers killed the wounded Spaniards instantly, and took their horses and the food they had been carrying. (Exquemelin, 81)

Having only lost two men, the buccaneers rode toward their destination. Along the way, they spotted a Spanish barque, whose crew had come for a load of logwood. They commandeered a canoe to capture this vessel. “As there were few provisions on the vessels, they slaughtered some of their horses and salted the flesh with salt they found on board . . . Not long after this, the buccaneers captured a ship . . . laden with meal and many pieces of eight,” which they sailed to Port Royal and sold before, once again, going on a drunken spree. (Exquemelin, 81)

They were busy dicing, whoring and drinking . . . Some of them will get through a good two or three thousand pieces of eight in a day – and next day not have a shirt to their back. I have seen a man in Jamaica give 500 pieces of eight to a whore, just to see her naked. (Exquemelin, 81-2)

William Russell's Pour, oh pour the pirate sherry
(Pirates clip art from Dover)

Having squandered his wealth, Rock had no choice but to go on the account again. He returned to the waters around Campeche and while doing some reconnaissance was captured with ten of his men. “He was instantly brought before the governor, who had him shut up in a dark hole with little to eat.” (Exquemelin, 82) Whether it was during this imprisonment, or another, Rock was tortured until he confessed that he had buried some of his ill-gotten wealth of Isla de Pinos, off Cuba’s southern coast. Soldiers were sent to reclaim this stolen loot, which amounted to 100,000 pieces of eight.

The governor would gladly have had him hanged, but dare not, because the buccaneer had thought of a crafty ruse. He wrote a letter to the governor, as if it had come from his comrades among the other buccaneers, threatening they would show no mercy in future however many Spaniards they took, if the governor did Rock any harm. (Exquemelin, 82-3)

Rather than risk testing the veracity of this threat, the governor put Rock aboard a ship bound for Spain. “He made the buccaneer promise on his oath that he would never more return to piracy, threatening he would hang him without mercy if Rock ever fell into his clutches again.” (Exquemelin, 83) After Rock arrived in Spain, he escaped and amassed sufficient funds to clothe himself properly and book passage on a ship bound for Jamaica. He also reneged on his pledge and rejoined the buccaneers.

In 1671, he sailed with Henry Morgan’s fleet. With Yellows and Bradley, he led 470 buccaneers in an attack on San Lorenzo Castle, which guarded the entrance to the Chagres River, which was the point from which Morgan intended to head inland to attack Panama. Rock and Bradley were wounded, but the buccaneers swept into the fort and massacred the defenders. Although Bradley died from his wounds, Rock mended sufficiently to accompany Morgan across the isthmus to Panama. After returning to Jamaica, he plundered Spanish vessels for a few more years; thereafter, his name disappeared from the historical record.

Captain Henry Morgan attacks Panama from Buccaneers of America

A contemporary of Rock’s was Bartolomeo el Portugues (Bartholomew the Portuguese). Little is known of him until after his arrival in Cagway, Jamaica in 1655. He sailed on several expeditions to raid Campeche and the surrounding Mexican coast before he became captain of a barque. Soon after this, around 1662, with only four guns and thirty men, he captured a larger Spanish brig of twenty guns and carrying seventy seamen and passengers. The buccaneers’ first attempt to board was repulsed, but the second try succeeded. Ten of his men died and four were wounded, while thirty Spaniards lost their lives. The captured prize carried 120,000 pounds of cacao beans and 70,000 pieces of eight, a cargo rich enough to make them all wealthy. Forsaking the barque,

the buccaneers could not return to Jamaica as the wind was against them, so decided to make for Cabo San Antonio (in the western corner of Cuba) as they were short of water. Near the cape they encountered three ships, come from New Spain and bound for Havana. These ships came alongside, forced the rovers to give up their plunder and moreover took them all prisoner. (Exquemelin, 77)

Part of the Armada de Barlovento, these vessels were on patrol. Two days later, a vicious storm dispersed the flotilla, but the vessel carrying the buccaneers still arrived in Campeche. Some traders came aboard and recognized “the rover’s chief, for he had inflicted terrible havoc along this coast, murdering people and burning houses.” (Exquemelin, 78) Law officers arrived the next day to demand the pirates be handed over to them.

But as the townspeople feared the pirate chief might give them the slip – as he had frequently done before – they made Bartolomeo remain on board ship while they erected a gallows on which to hang him next morning. Bartolomeo spoke good Spanish, and overheard the sailors discussing the hanging. . . . He took two empty wine-jars and stoppered them tightly with cork. That night, when everyone was asleep except the sentry who stood guarding him, Bartolomeo did all he could to persuade the man to go to his hammock. But as he showed no intention of doing so, Bartolomeo . . . cut his throat . . . without giving the sentry a chance to cry out. Immediately Bartolomeo lowered himself gently into the water with his two jars, where he hid himself for three days before deciding on any course of action. (Exquemelin, 78)

It was a daring escape since Bartolomeo didn’t know how to swim, but those earthenware jars kept him afloat until he reached land. The wily pirate hid in the forest, but kept close tabs on the soldiers searching for him. Only when they gave up and returned to Campeche did he travel 126 miles across the Yucatán peninsula to El Golfo Triste. The journey was not without hardships:

He dared not take the main road for fear of falling into the hands of the Spaniards. For four days he was laboriously clambering through the thickets of trees which grow along the shore, with as many roots in the water as branches up above, without setting a foot on the ground. During those four days he had nothing but a small calabash of water, and ate nothing except periwinkles which he pulled off the rocks.

To make matters worse, he had to cross several rivers . . . yet a man desperately trying to save his life will undertake hazards another would not dream of. He found an old plank washed up on the beach, with some big nails sticking out of it. These he hammered flat with stones, and ground their edges sharp enough to cut with. Then he hacked down creepers and bound together pieces of driftwood he had gathered, and so made a raft on which to cross the rivers. (Exquemelin, 78-9)

Fourteen days after he left Campeche, he arrived at the bay where other buccaneers were anchored. “He urged them to give him a canoe and twenty men, to make a surprise attack by night on the ship where he had been a prisoner, at anchor in Campeche.” (Exquemelin, 79) They agreed and the twenty-one men reached his former prison after eight days.

[A]t dead of night . . . and instantly, without speaking a word, [they] boarded the ship. The [Spaniards] on the ship had thought it was one of their canoes from the city carrying contraband – but they soon found their mistake when the buccaneers all leapt on board and captured the vessel. The rovers immediately cut the anchor cable and set sail. (Exquemelin, 79)

Much of the cargo remained on the vessel, but the Spaniards had already offloaded the money. Lady luck refused to favor Bartolomeo, though. The ship ran aground on Isla de Pinos during a storm and broke apart. Left with only a small boat, the buccaneers continued on to Jamaica. In spite of all his misfortunes, Bartolomeo continued his vicious marauding against Spain “without gaining much profit” and he died “in the greatest wretchedness in the world.” (Exquemlin, 80)

The flibustier – perhaps l’Olonnois’ rival for the title of most sadistic buccaneer – was a man who more than earned his moniker: “The Exterminator.” While many historians omit him from their accounts of these marauders, others mention him either as an example of a pirate with a colorful alias or because of his vicious treatment of Spaniards. He liked to slice open a captive’s stomach, pull out the intestines, and nail them to a post or tree. Using a hot branding iron or flaming torch, he prodded the victim’s buttocks until he danced. As this man did so, his intestines unraveled and he died. Another time The Exterminator cut off the heads of every Spaniard aboard a captured ship, but left one survivor, whom he sent back to the governor to give testimony as to the horrors he had witnessed.

Only two writers, both contemporaries, provided details of this buccaneer’s story. The first was Alexandre Olivier Exquemelin and the second was Louis le Golif.¹ But you won’t find the former’s account in English translations of The Buccaneers of America, which first appeared in 1678 in Dutch under the title De Americaensche Zee-Roovers. It was the French edition, initially published in 1686, that incorporated the tales of more buccaneers and reordered how the material was presented.²
 

Frontispiece from 1678 edition of The Buccaneers of America in Dutch
(Source: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Alexandre_Exquemelin)

The Executioner’s birth name was Daniel Monbars (also spelled Montbars). In his memoir, le Golif described Monbars in his chapter about Lisette Sucre, who was once the man’s mistress.

[H]e was a cruel and bloody man and never gave quarter as a Christian ought. He had this peculiarity that his eyebrows were larger than his moustaches, which gave him such a terrible air that his aspect alone assured him of victory before a fight was joined. No one dared to resist him . . . As bold as he was, he knew how to keep quiet and take care in which he did well . . . He could fight only with a sabre, and he knew very well that this weapon has no advantage over a sword firmly held in a hand that knows how to wield it . . . . (Memoires, 190-91)

According to Exquemelin, the primary difference between l’Olonnois and Monbars was the former killed indiscriminately, while the latter’s victims refused to surrender without a fight. But l’Olonnois claimed to know Monbars well, and told Exquemelin

. . . qu'il étoit d'une des bonnes familles du Languedoc, qu'il a été très-bien élevé, & qu'il s'est appliqué sur-tout à tous les exercices qui peuvent former un Gentilhomme.


. . . that he came from a good Languedoc family, that he was brought up well, and that he had been taught how to be a gentleman. (Oexmelin, 252)³

During Monbars’ youth, he read accounts of Spain’s conquest of the New World and their cruel exploitation of the native peoples.

Cette lecture fit naître dans son ame la haine pour les vainqueurs, et la compassion pour les vaincus. Il témoigna toujours dans la suite un grand desir de venger ceux-ci . . .

This reading roused within him hatred for the victors, and compassion for the vanquished. It instilled in him a great desire to avenge them . . . (Oexmelin, 252)

This passion, as well as the fact that France was at war with Spain, eventually led Monbars to seek out his uncle, who commanded a royal navy frigate, in Le-Havre- de-Grâce. Monbars sailed with his uncle to the Caribbean.

Pendant le voyage, au moindre vaisseau que l’on d’écouvroit, il demandoit s’il étoit Espagnol. Il en parut un de cette nation; son oncle lui sit donner la chasse, & en approcha d’assez près pour s’appercevoir qu’on se disposoit à mettre le feu au canon. Comme il craignoit que son neveu ne s’exposât inconsidérement, il le fit enfermer, & essuya le canon des ennemis, qui par bonheur ne lui fit pas grand mal. Il joignit ensuite le vaisseau Espagnol, et on en vint à l’abordage. Alors on lâcha le jeune Monbars, qui fondit le sabre à la main sur les ennemis, se fit jour au milieu d’eux, & suivi de quelques-uns, que sa valeur animoit, passa deux foid d’un bout à l’autre du vaisseau, renversa tout ce qui se trouva sur son passage, & ne cessa de combattre que lorsqu’on sût maître du vaisseau. Ce bâtiment étoit richement chargé. On y trouva trente mille balles de toile de coton, des tapis velus, & d’autres ouvrages des Indes de grande valeur; deux mille balles de soye reprise; deux mille petites barriques d’encens, mille de cloux de gerofle; enfin une cassette remplie de diamans bruts, dont quelques-uns paroissoient de la grosseur d’un bouton commun. Elle étoit garnie de plusieurs barres de fer, & fermée à quatre serrures.

Pendant que les autres confidéroient avec plaisir les richesses qui leur tomboient entres les mains, Monbars se réjouissoit à la vue du grand nombre d’Espagnols qu’il voyait sans vie; car il ne ressembloit pas à ceux qui ne combattent que pour le butin, il ne hazardoit sa vie que la gloire, et pour punir les Espagnols de leur cruaute.

 
During the voyage, a Spanish vessel was sighted. His uncle gave chase and, once his vessel came close enough to see what was happening on the other ship, he saw the enemy intended to fire its guns. Fearing his nephew might expose himself unnecessarily, he ordered him locked up. The enemy fired upon them, but they sustained no great harm. The two vessels came together. The young Monbars was released and, with sword in hand, he boarded the enemy with others and entered the fray. He fought from one end of the ship to the other, cutting down anyone who got in his way, and ceased fighting only when the French gained control of the Spanish ship. In searching through this vessel, they found it richly laden with 30,000 bales of cotton cloth, carpets, and other valuable works from the Indies, 2,000 bales of silk, 2,000 small barrels of incense, 1,000 cloves of garlic, and lastly, a casket filled with diamonds, some of which were the size of a common button. The casket was trimmed with several iron bars, and closed with four locks.

While the others marveled at the riches they had acquired, Monbars rejoiced at the sight of all the dead Spaniards. The others fought only for booty; he risked his life for glory and to punish the Spaniards for their cruelty. (Oexmelin, 254-55)

After arriving in Honduras, Monbars left his uncle and joined some buccaneers to fight Spaniards. His greatest joy came on the day Native Americans fought with him against the Spanish, for he finally had the chance to exact revenge on those who had inflicted such cruelties against his allies. Seeing the enemy swim in their own blood was the greatest day he had ever lived.

Accompanied by the buccaneers and natives, Monbars rendezvoused with his uncle, who wished to set sail. The buccaneers preferred to go with Monbars, rather than fight without him, and the Native Americans feared what would happen if they remained behind, so they joined the French too. The newcomers went aboard a second ship, where they were provided with muskets and swords, and Monbars became their leader.

Eight days after they set sail, they encountered four Spanish galleons laden with treasure. While Monbars focused on two of those vessels, his uncle concentrated on the rest. They fought for three hours, but without additional help, his uncle understood the battle would not end well. He managed to send both Spanish ships to the bottom of the sea, but his frigate soon joined them. Monbars and his companions, however, survived.

The loss of his uncle hit Monbars hard and fueled his drive to kill more Spaniards.

. . . Monbars . . . en fit un prodigieux carnage, pénétra bien avant dans le pays, le parcourant en victorieux, & eut la satisfaction de venger pleinement sur cette nation la mort de son oncle, et le massacre des Indiens.

 
. . . Monbars wreaked great carnage and victoriously penetrated deep into the country, and had the satisfaction of fully avenging upon this nation his uncle’s death, and the massacre of the Indians. (Oexmelin, 268-69).

He accompanied Chevalier Michel de Grammont in an attack on Maracaibo in Venezuela in 1668. Although many citizens fled, Monbars used painful persuasion to convince those who had been captured to divulge where they had hidden the gold and silver. When the buccaneers were ready to depart, they found three Spanish warships blockading the exit from Lake Maracaibo. Rather than surrender, Monbars torched the Spanish flagship. Other buccaneers seized a second ship, while the last warship fled. This allowed Monbars to sail to Vache Island, where shares of the loot were doled out.

Mentions are made of other attacks, including those on Cartagena and Vera Cruz, although details are rarely included. His base of operations may have been located on Saint Barthélemy in the Virgin Islands. Exquemlin’s account of Monbars’ life doesn’t unfold sequentially; instead, he recounts episodes as he recalled them and dates aren’t provided, which hampers efforts to verify the account with historical records. Unlike his tales of other buccaneers, he doesn’t give any hint as to later events in Monbars’ life and no death record exists. It’s possible he lost his life while at sea in 1707, which would make him sixty-two – rather old for an active buccaneer.

After meeting these three ruthless buccaneers, perhaps you can understand why Saint Peter tricked them into chasing one last treasure.


Notes:
1. There is some question as to whether Le Golif’s memoir is truth or fiction. It didn’t come to light until after the Allies liberated Saint Malo, France from the Germans in August 1944. An architect and scholar named Yves Hémar discovered the handwritten three-volume document in the rubble of a cellar. The editor of the French edition believed it to be authentic, but there are no records in France’s archives to prove that Louis-Adhémar-Timothée Le Golif ever lived. (Not surprising since fires, dating as far back as the French Revolution, destroyed many precious documents.) Nor was any such family connected to the house where the memoir was found. No other contemporary account of the buccaneers mentions him either. Since many buccaneers, including the ones mentioned in this article, used aliases or nicknames, perhaps Le Golif preferred that no one learn his true identity.

2. In 1974, a comparison between the original Dutch book and this French edition was published in Denmark and edited by historian Erik Kjaersgaard under the title Bogen om de amerikanske sørøvere. [For a review of this edition see Thomas Oldrup’s blog post (translation).]

3. These are not word-for-word translations of the French. The passages were first translated and then reworded to make it easier to read and digest in English. Special thanks to Roberto Barazzutti for his assistance with these translations.

 

For additional information, I recommend these resources:

“Adventures of Bartholomew Portugues, a Pirate,” The True Story Book edited by Andrew Lang. Longmans, Green, and Co., 1893.
“Alexandre Exquemelin,” Wikipedia visited 7 May 2017.

“Bartholomew Portugues,” The Golden Age of Piracy visited 28 April 2017.
“Bartholomew the Portuguese,” Exploring the Early Americas: The Buccaneers of America. Library of Congress [sound recording], visited 28 April 2017.
Bradford, Alfred S. Flying the Black Flag: A Brief History of Piracy. Praeger, 2007.
Burg, B. R. “The Buccaneer Community” in Bandits at Sea: A Pirates Reader edited by C. R. Pennell. New York University, 2001, pages 211-243.

Cantin, Roger. “Roc Brasiliano, dit Le Roc,” Encylopirate, visited 28 April 2017. (English translation)
Cordingly, David. Under the Black Flag: The Romance and the Reality of Life among the Pirates. Random House, 1995.

“Daniel Montbars,” The Golden Age of Piracy visited 26 March 2017.
Downie, Robert. The Way of the Pirate: Who’s Who in Davy Jones’ Locker. Ibooks, 1998.

Eastman, Carolyn. “Shivering Timbers,” Common-Place 10:1(October 2009).
Exquemelin, Alexander O. The Buccaneers of America translated by Alexis Brown. Dover, 1969.

Frothingham, Jessica Peabody. Sea-wolves of Seven Shores. Charles Scribner’s Sons, 1904, pages 169-170.

Gosse, Philip. The History of Piracy. Rio Grande Press, 1995.
Gosse, Philip. The Pirates’ Who’s Who: Giving Particulars of the Lives and Deaths of the Pirates & Buccaneers. Rio Grande Press, 1924.

Hollick, Helen. Pirates: Truth & Tales. Amberley, 2017.

Kemp, P. K., and Christopher Lloyd. Brethren of the Coast: Buccaneers of the South Seas. St. Martin’s, 1960.
Konstam, Angus. Piracy: The Complete History. Osprey, 2008.
Konstam, Angus. Pirates: Predators of the Seas. Skyhorse, 2007.
Konstam, Angus. Scourge of the Seas: Buccaneers, Pirates and Privateers. Osprey, 2007.
Konstam, Angus. The World Atlas of Pirates. Lyons, 2010.

Little, Benerson. The Buccaneer’s Realm: Pirate Life on the Spanish Main, 1674-1688. Potomac, 2007.
Little, Benerson. The Golden Age of Piracy: The Truth behind Pirate Myths. Skyhorse, 2016.
Little, Benerson. The Sea Rover’s Practice: The Tactics and Techniques, 1630-1730. Potomac, 2005.
Lunsford, Virginia West. Piracy and Privateering in the Golden Age Netherlands. Palgrave Macmillan, 2005.

Marley, David. F. Pirates of the Americas volume 1: 1650-1685. ABC-CLIO, 2010.
Marx, Jenifer G. “Brethren of the Coast” in Pirates: Terror on the High Seas – from the Caribbean to the South China Sea edited by David Cordingly. Turner, 1996, 36-57.
Marx, Jenifer G. Pirates and Privateers of the Caribbean. Krieger, 1992.

Oexmlin, Alexandre-Olivier. Histoire des Aventuriers Flibustiers volume 2. Atrevoux, 1775.

“Pirates and Piracy from the Earliest Ages,” The Museum of Foreign Literature and Science volume 26 (January-June 1835), pages 266-272).
Preston, Diana & Michael. A Pirate of Exquisite Mind: Explorer, Naturalist, and Buccaneers – The Life of William Dampier. Walker & Company, 2004.

“Rock Brasiliano,” Exploring the Early Americas: The Buccaneers of America. Library of Congress [sound recording], visited 28 April 2017.

Selinger, Gail. The Complete Idiot’s Guide to Pirates. Alpha, 2006.

Travers, Tim. Pirates: A History. History Press, 2009.

Copyright © 2017 Cindy Vallar

 

Home

Pirate Articles

Pirate Links

Book Reviews

Thistles & Pirates

Click on the Cannon to Contact Me