anish court, which, in bitter
recollection of what he had done--and no more cruel or more successful
pirate had ever swept the Caribbean and ravaged the Spanish Main--were
persistently urged upon his notice. But with the accession of James the
situation was immediately altered. The new monarch had at once acceded
to the demand of the Spanish Ambassador, presented anew at this
opportune time, and a new Governor of Jamaica was despatched over the
sea with orders to arrest Morgan and send him to England. Hawxherst,
who, in common with all the officers of the insular army, hated the
bloodstained villain whom fortune had placed over them, had solicited
Lord Carlingford to allow him to execute the order, with what success we
have seen.

The news of the long-wished-for downfall of the tyrant had been spread
abroad and formed the one topic of conversation in Port Royal and the
vicinity that day. Now the work of the day was over and, as usual, the
Blue Anchor tavern was crowded with men from the frigate and other
shipping in the harbor, mingling with others from the purlieus of the
town. Fumes of rum and spirits pervaded the tobacco-smoked barroom which
served as the main parlor of the inn. It was yet early in the evening,
but the crowd, inflamed with liquor, was already in uproarious mood.
Over in the corner a young Englishman was singing in a rich, deep voice
a new song by a famous poet of London town:

"Let us sing and be merry, dance, joke and rejoice,
With claret and sherry, theorbo and voice!
The changeable world to our joy is unjust,
All treasure's uncertain,
Then down with your dust;
In frolics dispose your pounds, shillings and pence,
For we shall be nothing a hundred years hence.

We'll sport and be free, with Frank, Betty and Dolly,
Have lobsters and oysters to cure melancholy;
Fish dinners will make a man spring like a flea,
Dame Venus, love's lady,
Was born of the sea;
With her and with Bacchus we'll tickle the sense.
For we shall be past it a hundred years hence."

It was a popular song, evidently, for the whole assembly joined in the
chorus--

"In frolics dispose your pounds, shillings and pence,
For we shall be nothing a hundred years hence."

They roared it out in the deep bass voices of the sea, marking the time
by hammering in unison upon the oaken tables with their pewter mugs and
flagons. The sentiment