Port Royal: the Pirate Port, Sanctioned by the King of England

     Nothing is more synonymous with the romance of piracy than the name ‘Port Royal’, yet there is much misconception about this small finger of land at the end of a long causeway on the south shore of Jamaica.  For example: No one who sailed from that port would have dared call themselves a pirate.  Instead, they considered themselves (or at least pretended to be) faithful soldiers of England.  And they carried letters of Marque to prove it.

      In 1657, two bumbling English admirals, William Penn (father of the founder of Pennsylvania) and Robert Venables were authorized by Lord Cromwell to sail to the Caribbean and take Santo Domingo for the British.  They failed miserably at this assignment and in other places in the Caribbean as well.  Many of their force died of disease and were casualties of badly planned battles.  So with their tea supply running perilously low and fearing the wrath of Oliver Cromwell back home in England if they produced no results, they decided to pluck the lowest hanging fruit they could find.  Jamaica was an easy target, since it was poorly defended and mistakenly regarded by the Spanish to generally be "an unimportant hole of pestilence."  They took it, or rather walked ashore, stuck a flag in the ground, and claimed the entire island for the British before scurrying back to England.  But when they offered it to Cromwell, hats in hand, he threw them into the Tower of London for incompetence. 

     However, had Cromwell known how large and naturally protected the harbor was--- or how perfectly positioned Jamaica sat on the map--- he might have been more lenient.  Nay, he would have given his admirals commendations.  Jamaica would not only become a central point for future British Shipping, it was also a highly strategic refuge for robbing Spanish commerce. 

     In a matter of only a few short years, English, Dutch and French ships flocked to the new port, dubbed ‘Cagway’.  Ships arrived from England with bricks as ballast to build the new port city on what was then a tiny spit of sand, not more than about 50 acres.  By the early 1660’s the place had been renamed Port Royal by enthusiasts for the newly restored crown.  Oliver Cromwell was dead and Charles II would soon be upon the throne once again.  Three forts were built, then a watch tower.  Then, of course, taverns, stews, wheel-rights, bakers, sail makers, etc, etc.  Ships of all nations currently at peace with England eagerly paid the steep moorage rates (even as high as London on the Thames), for once inside the great harbor they were protected from any Spanish threat by a narrow entrance guarded by bristling cannons and treacherous reefs.  Even English ships had to be rowed into port by harbor navigators for fear of running aground.  Here was the perfect spot for a successful business, built on both stolen goods as well as legitimate sources.

     By 1658 Cromwell had sent his first Governor of Port Royal, Edward D'Oyly, and soon after a Commodore to direct military action, Christopher Myngs, who had distinguished himself in action back home against the Dutch.  Myngs was a Royalist, and one of those thoroughly military fighting men who disliked Cromwell and the Parliamentarians, but disliked the Spanish even more.  With Myngs in charge, he lead a patchwork band of English soldiers and self-serving Buccaneers to sack the Spanish cities along the Spanish Main.  According to Myngs, he did it to secure England a place in the Caribbean.  He probably believed it, too.  But the Buccaneers flocked to Port Royal for a different reason: the promise of much bigger prizes; precious goods, gold, and silver in vast quantities.  Myngs used the Buccaneers to his personal, patriotic ends, though he was not one of them.  The Spanish couldn't see the difference however, and Myngs was soon nicknamed "el Diablo:" 'the Devil'.

     Myngs' career in the Caribbean was relatively short, however.  In the early 1660's he was ordered back to England by Oliver Cromwell to stand trial for excesses and overreaching his authority.  When he got home, however, he found Cromwell dead and Charles II in charge.  He was promptly exonerated and knighted by the new king 'for deeds of securing the sea lanes for Britain'.  As further reward for his services, he was sent off to fight a war against the Dutch, where he was soon killed in a battle at sea.

     However, Christopher Myngs had opened the floodgates of robbing Spanish cities in the name of English security.  Far more dangerous and treacherous characters followed soon afterward.  Myngs first officer of sorts, Henry Morgan, became one of the most infamous names in English demagoguery.  There was also Edward Mansveld, a Dutchman; Francois L'lonais, a French psychopath; Roche Braziliano, a parentless Mestizo; Bartholomew Portuguese, from Portugal.  They and many more were all remembered in the annals of wanton brutality which lasted another 20 years.  We will discuss them and their wake of wreckage in our Gallery of Rogues, later in this series.  Their plundering, murderous adventures involve the most colorful and lawless of historical times, when a fast life of stolen wealth and threat of Spanish gallows nipping at their heels was more appealing than a miserable existence of laboring on a tropical plantation for a rich lord.  Small wonder that they have remained so repulsively fascinating to us throughout the centuries.    

For much more on the subject, you can also read my historical novel, The Brethren Prince, available as an e-book at the Amazon Kindle store, Apple iBooks, Barnes and Noble, and other major e-book retailers.