Scoundrels & Eccentrics of the Pacific E-Book

John Dunmore

• Herausgeber: Upstart
• Kategorie: Geisteswissenschaft
• Sprache: Englisch
• Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2018

Beschreibung

Scoundrels & Eccentrics of the Pacific is a new title delving into the adventurers who once made the great Pacific their playground – from likeable dreamers to outright conmen, slavers and pirates, and even one self-titled Queen Emma. There's the extraordinary tale of James Proctor who used his wooden leg to trick natives in coming aboard his ship so he could spirit them away as slaves; or French priest Fr Rougier who used his position to amass a fortune, eventually became the "King of Christmas Island". But there are sad accounts as well, of Chinese or Indians fallen victim to human trafficking, goldfield fever and unscrupulous traders. This is a collection of the tales that have been told of the men, and in some cases the women, who sought to benefit from the discoveries of the early explorers; scoundrels and rogues with little conscience but great craftiness, and those who as a result found themselves victims of situations they could hardly imagine. It shows that mankind, in whatever period and whatever part of the world, may have its heroes, but always has its villains.

Leseprobe

A catalogue record for this book is available from the National Library of New Zealand.

ISBN

E: 978-1-988516-50-9

M: 978-1-988516-52-3

An Upstart Press Book

Published in 2018 by Upstart Press Ltd

Level 4, 15 Huron Street, Takapuna 0622

Auckland, New Zealand

Text © John Dunmore 2018

The moral rights of the author have been asserted.

Design and format © Upstart Press Ltd 2018

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.

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Contents

Foreword

Chinese Explorer or Conman?

Pirates and Their Ilk

Bligh of the Bounty

Mary Bryant and the Aftermath of the Bounty

Mutinous Mutineers

William Hayes: Bully and Thief

Captain Bureau, Unlucky Trader

A Mormon Adventurer

Shipwrecked Victims

Colonial Scoundrels

Chinese Victims

Queen Emma Coe

James Proctor

Charles de Rays, King of Oceania

Count Von Attems

Father Rougier

Niels Sorensen

Select Bibliography

Map of Oceania drawn in 1820.

Foreword

The Pacific Ocean was the last region to be discovered and explored by Europeans. Even for those who lived along its shores, it was a world of mystery, danger and legend. Venturing into its vastness was often considered unwise, and in most cases the earliest settlers, mostly from Asia and its outlying islands, had sailed into it to avoid some invasion or some threat from their own region, hoping that they might find a new and safer home on an uninhabited island. This had taken centuries and the islands of the Pacific eventually each presented their own private world, with their own legends, their way of life and their traditions.

The Europeans came much later, with discoveries, often unexpected, gradual exploration, followed by venturesome trade, settlement, exploitation and colonisation. The great powers tried to exclude each other and create their own empire – first the Spanish and the Dutch, then the British, the French, the Germans and in time the Japanese. But in between, there were raiders, pirates, thieves, private individuals who worked and often cheated in the hope of building their own little world, exploiting an ocean which was only slowly being controlled and brought into the theoretical orderliness that dominated the rest of the world.

This is a small collection of the tales that have been told of the men, and in some cases the women, who sought to benefit from the discoveries of the early explorers, scoundrels and rogues with little conscience but great craftiness, and of those who as a result found themselves victims of situations they could hardly imagine. It shows that humankind, in whatever period and whatever part of the world, may have its heroes, but it always has its villains.

1

Chinese Explorer or Conman?

To the people who lived along the coasts, the Pacific Ocean was the edge of the world. They stared out at this immensity of water, sometimes placid, more often angry, as they might at eternity itself. It might hold promise for a few; for some it was a world of legend, with mythical heroes and monsters, but it held terror for most. Wise indeed were those who merely took it for granted, something about which one did not speculate, a foreign world that was incomprehensible or meaningless. One could fish and sail along the shore, usually in some frail craft, but one would be unwise to venture out too far, out of sight of land, for one might never return.

To the Chinese, living in what most believed was the centre of the world, the Middle Kingdom, the sea was one of the limits of the universe. No one could live out there, certainly not human beings. It was a world of strange aliens, possibly the abode of the Immortals, but certainly one of mystery. For centuries, the Chinese built their empire across Asia, leaving the ocean to itself.

Those who lived close to the great rivers, such as the Yangtze and the Yellow River, the Huang He, and saw them roaring towards the ocean, swollen by heavy inland rains, overflowing and flooding into the rice fields, believed that there was a giant maelstrom out in the ocean, the Wei Lu, a great hole into which poured the water, taking with it any unfortunate craft that had ventured too close to it. If there was no such plughole, then the waters would rise up everywhere and flood the world. It was much more logical to believe in this Wei Lu, where the waters poured down into the earth and, after being cleansed in the underworld, re-emerged as bubbling springs in the mountain ranges or rose in spiralling clouds over the horizon. This belief remained widely held for centuries, because as late as the 13th century of the modern era the historian Chau Ju Kua, the author of Zhu Fan Zhi, or “A Description of Barbarous People”, reminded his readers of the Great Hole of Wei Lu, where waters drain “into the world from which men do not return”.

The old legends also spoke of Fu Sang, a paradise somewhere beyond the horizon, a magical place where enchanters dwelt, where silkworms grew two metres long, and where the herb of eternal youth might be found. Immortality is a theme that was often found in the old legends that were narrated around the fire or discussed in temples.

Stories these might be, but some began to dream of going to see for themselves. Around the year 219 B.C., the Emperor Shi Huang Ti raised the question with one of his courtiers, Hsu Fu, or Xu Fu, who had a reputation as a skilled man and also as a sorcerer. Shi Huang Ti could look back on his own life with a great deal of satisfaction: he had started in 245 B.C. as a mere local ruler, but in less than 20 years he had unified China under his rule. He had reorganised the country, extended its frontier to the edges of Vietnam and Korea, had had a great wall built to keep out intruders, and was now ruling a vast empire with great efficiency and ruthlessness. His dynasty, the Qin or Ch’in, would give the country its name, and as a ruler he was both admired and feared.

Emperor Shi Huang Ti

However, one thing worried him, as he grew older, and that was the prospect of death. His name, he knew, would become immortal, his body would be preserved in a great mausoleum and guarded by an army of small soldier-like figurines, but his life would have ended, and he would know nothing of what the future might hold. He had heard, however, like most of the Chinese, of wondrous islands far off in the Pacific Ocean, where there grew a magic herb that ensured eternal life. The plant of immortality might be a myth, but it was worth a try, a feeling that grew after at least one assassination attempt and the onset of middle age. His courtier suggested that he could sail off in the name of the emperor, using his own great talents to deal with whatever magic islands he might encounter. Shi Huang Ti agreed and supplied him with the ships, made mostly of bamboo, and the crews and supplies he would need.

Hsu Fu is reported to have set out on his first expedition early in the year 219 B.C. He is said to have sailed from the ancient city of Lang Yu in Shantung province with a small fleet of large bamboo ships and to have begun his search for the islands where the Immortals lived, with the mission of persuading them to share their wonderful herb to preserve the life of the great Chinese emperor. He probably thought it a wise move, as he was only in his early thirties and he feared the struggles for succession that would inevitably occur after the emperor’s death and which, as one of the elderly ruler’s prized courtiers, would probably cost him his life.

There was no sign of him for almost a year, and most of the courtiers who knew about the enterprise assumed that he had been caught by the currents and driven into Wei Lu, or else fallen victim to some other monsters who were believed to inhabit islands of the Pacific. But he did reappear one day and reported that, after many a struggle, he had discovered an island he said was called Peng Lai and a palace known as the Chich Cheng, guarded by a fearsome dragon, and housing a powerful ruler whom he was finally allowed to meet. He presented the gifts he had brought and paid homage to the powerful Immortal on behalf of the emperor. But he had not succeeded in obtaining any of the sacred plants. The ruling magician knew how valuable the herb was, but he wanted more than Hsu Fu had brought – and he stressed that it needed to be well guarded on the voyage back to China, so that no unworthy person, no one in fact other than the emperor, could receive that marvellous plant. He had heard of the great Ch’in empire and its achievements, and he asked for Chinese young men of noble lineage, together with maidens of similar status and a number of skilled artisans. They would serve his own kingdom, learn his own magical skills and ensure the safety of the invaluable herb of immortality.

It seemed a straightforward proposition, and the emperor was soon persuaded. He gave Hsu Fu 3,000 young men and women – some say the number was even greater – and all the artisans and guards he needed. He added an ample supply of food and samples of Chinese artefacts, as well as personal gifts for the ruler, now referred to as the Great Magician of the Sea. Re-equipped and supplied with new rafts, Hsu Fu sailed away. He was never seen again, at least not by the emperor who died within a year or so of his departure. There was no magic herb for him, and the Qin dynasty collapsed a few years later in widespread disorder and endless plots and counterplots. It sounds to us as though Hsu Fu had found an attractive island somewhere, and that he planned to found a colony there. There might well be no magic herb at all, but Emperor Shih Huang Ti, a realist to the end, might have believed that if that was the case Hsu Fu in his colony would become his vassal, and if there was no herb of longevity, there would be at least an annual tribute. He was disappointed. His gamble did not pay.

According to most tales, Hsu Fu was never heard of again. But there are versions stating that Hsu Fu did return a few months later, saying that all was well and that the Great Magician of the Sea was keeping his promise to supply the plants, but that they were too precious to be taken to China without more armed guards powerful and numerous enough to protect them from any strangers or any of the island rulers that lay on the road back. By now, however, Shi Huang Ti was dead, and his heirs were not interested. Hsu Fu disappeared, supposedly returning to Peng Lai to persuade the Great Magician to relent.

Hsu Fu was undoubtedly a skilled navigator and there has been a fair amount of speculation over the years about the actual route he followed. In 1993, the Englishman Tim Severin attempted to prove that a bamboo raft could actually cross the Pacific. He sailed from Vietnam and covered several thousand miles before his vessel – which he had named the Hsu Fu – finally disintegrated. It is unlikely that the real Hsu Fu ever sailed to America – a continent the ancient Chinese knew nothing about – but it is fairly certain that he sailed to several large Pacific islands and was setting up his own kingdom on one of them.

Chinese mythology does mention a number of islands that lay out in the ocean – away from the dangerous Wei Lu – such as the kingdom of Queen Pimiko, in a country called Wa. It is mentioned in an ancient Chinese chronicle, the Hou Han Shu, compiled around the fifth century, and was probably situated in southern Japan. “Pimiko” is possibly a corrupted version of himeko, an archaic Japanese word meaning “princess”. When a princess, she remained unmarried, busying herself instead with magic and sorcery, and bewitching the populace, whereupon she became their queen. She kept 1,000 female attendants at her court, but few of the people ever saw her. There was only one man there, who was in charge of her wardrobe and her meals, and who acted as her means of communication. She lived in a palace surrounded by towers and stockades, defended by armed guards.

A thousand miles to the south of this queen’s land, there was another land, where dwarfs lived. Its inhabitants were no more than three or four feet high. Then to the south-east, much further off – as the journey, some said, took a year – one came to the land of the Naked People, and then to the country of the Black-Teethed Men. These stories may sound like imaginary myths, but they suggest some knowledge of the islands of Micronesia and Melanesia, where clothing can be regarded as skimpy indeed, and of some of the Philippines, where betelnut chewing is common and turns the teeth a distinctive and, to outsiders, startling black.

But it is now generally accepted that Hsu Fu travelled to what is now Japan. It is relatively close to the Chinese mainland, particularly to Shantung province, from which he had set out, and Hsu Fu is in fact recognised as one of the founders of early Japan. His arrival coincided with changes in agricultural techniques, and his name is included in several documents about early Japan. He is sometimes called “the God of Farming”, “the God of Medicine” and “the God of Silk”. Memorials to him can be found in several places, including a Ku Shu Research Institute attached to a local teachers’ college. His influence on early Japanese culture and trade is the subject of current research, including his possible influence on the Shinto religion. In a totally different context, he was used as a character in the Marvel Comics in 2011. . .

Hsu Fu was undeniably a skilled navigator, driving a small fleet of ships and rafts made largely of bamboo. As Tim Severin showed, they would not have survived a lengthy journey, and it is likely that some of them disintegrated before Hsu Fu reached his goal. But he is also a perfect model for the modern scammer. His modern equivalent uses mail, or more usually email. Recipients, no doubt numerous and spread across the world, receive a plea from someone who needs help to get a large family fortune out of the country to prevent the current rulers from getting their hands on it. And if the scammer succeeds in getting help from a gullible victim, he will return to try to get more.

Hsu Fu may have failed in his third endeavour, not because the Chinese emperor had lost faith in him, but because the elderly ruler had died. The herb of immortality had come too late for him. Early Japan may well have benefited from the enterprise, as had Hsu Fu, entering history as a man who was as skilled as he was unscrupulous. Either way, the Chinese cannot fail to admire him, his work and to some extent his long-term achievements.

2

Pirates and Their Ilk

Piracy has existed from the earliest times, whether the victims were fishermen who had ventured too far from the shore, or small merchantmen taking their wares to the nearest port. Like highwaymen hiding in forests, ready to pounce on any prey they could find, the pirates roamed through the open seas, looking for a passing ship they could attack. Hence the term “corsair”, from the French course (a run), which came into use in the Middle Ages, and gives the impression of a fast animal chasing its weaker prey. “Pirates” was a broader term that dated back to early Greece and usually referred to a sea robber in and around the Mediterranean Sea. William Shakespeare often refers to pirates, whom he calls “salt-water thieves”. The term has lasted through time and today refers to anyone stealing someone’s property, including writings, music or drama, not roaming the sea, as of old, but the airwaves.

“Buccaneers” were usually pirates who were based in and around the Caribbean Sea, and the term is derived from their basic food supplies of hard dried meat, boucan in French. “Privateers” applied, in some respect, to a higher grade of pirates, who had received, formally or informally, permission to attack and capture roaming ships, including merchantmen, belonging to an enemy nation. They were, in effect, acting as a private branch of the navy, fighting the enemy, but in fact, robbing passing ships rather than attacking units of a foreign fleet. However, with the major European powers, Britain, France, Spain, the Netherlands, being so often at war, the line of demarcation between a pirate and a privateer is often blurred.

The pirates found the relatively unknown Pacific Ocean a valuable field of action, and the rivalry between Spain – which in the early years had attempted to claim it as “the Spanish Lake” – and the other powers provided a valuable background to their activities. Exploration could be put forward as an excuse for their incursions, and the antagonism of the Spaniards provided the excuse for violence and robbery. Thus, although the English might disagree, the Spanish viewed Francis Drake as a mere pirate, to be hanged if caught. He had the covert protection of Queen Elizabeth I, and had raided Spanish settlements in the West Indies in the early 1570s. However, he really wanted to sail into the Pacific and succeeded in doing so by passing through the Straits of Magellan at the southern tip of South America with his ship the Pelican (later renamed the Golden Hind) in October 1578. He began raiding Spanish settlements along the coast of Chile and Peru, venturing as far as northern California, collecting a rich booty and destroying ships and small settlements. He had hoped to discover a north-west passage back into the Atlantic, the equivalent of the Straits of Magellan, but failed and returned to England by way of the Cape of Good Hope, becoming the first English captain to complete a voyage around the world. He was back in Britain by September 1580, and the Queen, overcoming her fear that this might upset the Spanish government, went on board his ship and knighted him.

Although William Dampier can be regarded as a pirate, his contribution to European knowledge of the Pacific world and to cartography is considerable, as his map of 1699 shows.

However, the richest prize in Pacific waters at that time was the Spanish galleon, a large ship heavily laden with gold and other precious materials, which the Spanish traditionally sent annually from the Philippines to Mexico, and which returned to Manila after being refitted and restocked in Acapulco. Another famous English captain – or privateer – Thomas Cavendish, succeeded in capturing one, the Santa Ana, off the coast of California in 1587. His return to England with the riches he had looted attracted a great deal of attention, and encouraged others to follow suit. Richard Hawkins was one such. He was a youngish man of some status, being the son of an admiral, and he had once served under Drake and captained a ship in the fight against the Spanish Armada. He sailed into the Pacific in 1594 in command of a privateer vessel, the quaintly named Dainty, merely intending, he later claimed, to carry out a voyage of exploration. However, his main achievement was the sacking and plundering of the major port of Valparaiso, after which he continued on his way north, looking for more loot, but he was defeated and captured by two Spanish ships. He was taken in chains to Spain and not released until 1602. However, shortly after his return he was knighted and elected to Parliament. Ironically, he was then appointed vice-admiral for Devon, a post which involved keeping the English Channel free of roving pirates. A few years later, he sailed to the Mediterranean to help clear the trading routes of Algerian corsairs.

The Caribbean was a region where piracy thrived, but it also opened the way to the Pacific – or the Great South Sea, as it was also known – by way of the Isthmus of Panama. William Dampier, who had crossed the isthmus in 1679 with a group of buccaneers and plundered the Spanish settlements around the coast, alternated between buccaneering in the Caribbean and engaging in a mixture of piracy and exploration on the Pacific side. He gained considerable fame through this, and was later sent on an official voyage of exploration around Australia and New Guinea, the first Englishman known to have set foot on Australian soil.

Before Dampier, however, a much less reputable buccaneer, Henry Morgan, had crossed the isthmus and begun raiding the Spanish Pacific settlements. A Welshman of good standing, he was related to high-ranking military officers, including an uncle who had led the English raid on Jamaica in 1655. He carried out a number of raids on Spanish possessions in the Caribbean and on the coast of Venezuela, bringing back a great haul of gold and silver, some being the product of ransoms obtained from Spanish garrisons, the rest simply stolen from ports or passing ships. Then, in 1670, he assembled a small fleet to attack Panama, stole whatever could be found and set the town on fire. As it turned out, England and Spain were at peace at the time, and the Spanish made a formal protest to the English authorities. Henry Morgan and the then governor of Jamaica were recalled to London, but were easily forgiven. A frequent excuse was that, given the lack of communication once a ship had left its home port, the sailors were unable to discover that hostilities between the various countries had ceased. Morgan was eventually sent back to Jamaica with a knighthood and the post of Lieutenant-Governor. He died in 1688.

William Dampier