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Updated: June 26, 2025
After thirteen days' sailing, Grijalva reached the Island of Cozumel on the coast of Yucatan, doubled the Cape of Cotoche, and entered the Bay of Campeachy.
A Campeachy hat shaded his face and shoulders, and a pair of Mexican spurs tinkled their little steel bells against their huge five-spiked rowels on his heels. He scarcely sat in the saddle-tree from hat to spurs you might have drawn a perpendicular line. It would have taken in shoulders, thighs, and all.
I see in the newspapers an article which I by no means like, in our treaty with Spain; which is, that we shall be at liberty to cut logwood in the Bay of Campeachy, BUT BY PAYING FOR IT. Who does not see that this condition may, and probably will, amount to a prohibition, by the price which the Spaniards may set it at?
I ran forward with a pannikin, drew some water, and gave him a drink. He drank greedily, biting the tin, but did not recognise me; all that he could say was "Rip-raps, Rip-raps," over and over again. The Rip-raps was the name of a race or tideway on the Campeachy coast; he had often told me about it, and I had remembered the name because it was such a queer one. I bathed his wound with the water.
There was no great Spanish force in the harbor at that time, and he did not know how many buccaneering vessels might be able to gather together in the bay if it should become known that the great pirate Roc had been put to death in Campeachy. It was an unusual thing for a prisoner to have such powerful friends so near by, and the Governor took Roc's case into most earnest consideration.
On one hand, the Spaniards pretended that they had an exclusive right to some latitudes in the bay of Mexico; and, on the other, though the matter had never been clearly ascertained by treaty, the British merchants claimed the privilege of cutting logwood on the bay of Campeachy.
That would have been a happier life than cutting logwood, up to the knees in mud, in some drowned savannah of Campeachy. However, just as the wine-bowl spoiled the project of the galleon, so did the treachery of a lickspittle, surely one of the meanest of created things, put an end to the mutiny. Morgan was not there to colonise Pacific Oceans, but to sack Panama.
When a young man Dampier had gone out to Jamaica to manage a large estate; but not liking the slave-driving business, he crossed over to Campeachy, and lived for a time in the woods, cutting the more valuable kinds of timber. Here he became acquainted with the buccaneers who made the lonely coves of Campeachy their headquarters.
The work of cutting it, and bringing it to the ships, in the rough Campeachy country, where there were no roads, was very hard. The logwood cutters were, therefore, men of muscle, fond of violent work. Nearly all of them in Dampier's time were buccaneers who had lost their old trade.
She was a small vessel of fifty tons, commanded by a Mestizo, on board of which we found a Guernsey man, who had been taken by the Spaniards, while cutting logwood in the Bay of Campeachy above two years before, and must have continued a prisoner during life if we had not released him.
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