»  François l’Olonnais, Cannibal, Psychopath and Extreme Optician.
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François l’Olonnais, Cannibal, Psychopath and Extreme Optician.

François l’Olonnais, Cannibal, Psychopath and Extreme Optician.
François l'Olonnais, 1635 – 1668

Tortuga 1668

I’m a buccaneer ,Tortuga port-scum. I’ll fuck your horse, skin your grandmother and sell your babies into slavery for the price of a drink. Even I thought twice before signing on with him.

I’m a bad man, no argument, but he was EVIL, an insane bloodthirsty maniac.

Why,I’ve seen him bind a rope around a man’s forehead and slowly tighten it until his eyes popped out of his face…..and that was a kindness!

When all’s said though, he was fair to his crew, loved the Lord and made us a fucking fortune in loot.

So raise your black jacks lads and drink to the most vicious bastard ever to sail between Port Royal and Satan’s Crack, François l’Olonnais.

Like a lot of us, when he first came to the Main, back in the 50s he was little more than a slave. They call it being an “Indentured Servant “ I say its sweltering, back-breaking toil in a Martinique sugar plantation.

The plantation owner paid his fare from France and supplied food and lodgings  – he was probably quite generous with a whip too. After SEVEN years l’Olonnais was free to go and make his way in the world. He was expected to become a farmer.

If it’s a choice between seven years of hell and robbing some fat merchant then tupping his wife, I know which one I’d choose.

l’Olonnais thought the same and bared his arse at honest work, travelling instead to the isle of Hispaniola.

There, he lived for a time with a gang of animal skin-wearing French vagabonds, known as “Boucaniers.”

"I'm a Privateer, a better class of murdering scum" “I’m a Privateer, a better class of murdering scum”

His days were spent hunting pigs and cattle then slicing thin strips of meat from them and smoking it over an open fire,

l’Olonnais came to the conclusion that if he did the same things to Spaniards it would be much more enjoyable and it could make him a sizable profit, so he went Privateering.

Now, a Privateer is NOT a pirate, he’s better than that.

He has an official “Letter of Marque” on behalf of  the French government and is legally entitled to plunder Spanish shipping whenever France and Spain are at war – or at the very least on bad terms.

We’re not common thieves, unless there is no war of course and then we “Go on Account” and work for ourselves ……as  common thieves.

Fortunately, France and Spain were at each others throats.

l’Olonnais was such an enthusiastic and brutal member of the crew, that the governor of Tortuga gave him a ship of his own.

As a captain he was surprisingly pious, inviting a priest on board to bless the crew.

When a loud-mouthed sailor played the zany and interrupted the blessing with a joke, l’Olonnais shot him and tipped his body into the sea.

If you were his captive, he was less forgiving. The best you could expect would be to have pieces of your flesh randomly sliced from your body before having your tongue cut out and your hands and feet chopped off. Afterwards he would lick the blood from his sword.

"Right! Does anyone else think the Spanish are "Not so bad"? “Right! Does anyone else think the Spanish are “Not so bad”?

Spanish sailors preferred to throw themselves into the sea rather than be captured by him.

l’Olonnais may have been a mad dog, no question, but he was far from stupid.

Once, his ship went down in a storm off the coast of Mexico. His crew were just celebrating their good fortune at having survived, when Spanish soldiers delivered a hail of musket fire and killed most of them on the beach.

" Come on you Spanish bastards i'll ave the lot of yer" ” Come on you Spanish bastards i’ll ave the lot of yer”

Wounded, but still alive, l’Olonnais smeared himself with blood, sand and his comrades spilled entrails and then wriggled beneath their twitching bodies to avoid capture.

He then “persuaded” a couple of slaves to steal a canoe and row him back to Tortuga, where he was immediately given another ship.

This Spanish victory had fanned the flames of his hate into a raging inferno and he had murder in his eye when me and the rest of the new lads signed articles for his next voyage.

l’Olonnais had decided to attack and rob an entire Cuban village called De los Cayos- merchantmen were not a rich enough prize.

We dropped anchor at the mouth of a river linking the village to the sea. At the sight of us, the villagers wailed in terror and hurriedly sent off a dispatch asking for help.

In reply,the governor of Havana  sent a warship to their aid with strict orders to kill all of us save l’Olonnais who was to be returned in chains. The ship even had its own negro hangman to execute us on the spot,.

However, this was not to be.

We sailed upriver in two canoes and attacked the warship as it lay at anchor, taking control of it at the point of a cutlass.  In a blind rage l’Olonnais then had the survivors mustered on deck and beheaded .

I did for two of them with a boarding axe!

The negro hangman begged for his life,-which gave us all a laugh – saying he was just doing his job. l’Olonnais promised him he would be spared if he revealed all he knew about the Spanish plans to capture him.

"One day sir I'll wear a fine hat like that on my head ".."I don't think so monsieur" “One day sir I’ll wear a fine hat like that on my head “..”I don’t think so monsieur”

When the hangman had babbled all he knew,  l’Olonnais told him the promise was bollocks and chopped his head off anyway.

You should have seen his face…….lying there in the scuppers, where it had rolled.

A lone survivor was sent back to Havana with a message from l’Olonnais “I shall never henceforth give quarter to any Spaniard whatsoever”

l’Olonnais had hardly been merciful before, I almost felt sorry for the next Don to fall into his hands.

Back in Tortuga, he gave notice that he was planning his boldest raid to date, sacking the wealthy town of Maracaibo.

We were all so lustful for gold, six hundred of us agreed to join him, even the mayor of Tortuga -an ex pirate-came out of retirement .

It was a very successful voyage for everyone, unless you lived in Maracaibo.

" What do you mean there's a law against sacking?" ” What do you mean there’s a law against sacking?”

First, we took brutal control  of its only defensive fort, so the terrified people of the town fled further up river and into the jungle .

When we got to Maracaibo we moved into its best houses and had a fine time. We drank the place dry, raped whatever we could find and smashed everything else to pieces. When we got board with all that, we set the town on fire.

The only thing we couldn’t get our hands on was was the gold which the residents had hidden away. The atmosphere was like a carnival as we learned where they had fled, followed them up river and sacked that town as well.

Anyone who didn’t tell us where their money was hidden had their eyeballs squeezed out – “Woolding” l’Olonnais called it -or they were burnt alive. We got a lot of coin that way. To get a little more we then held the entire population under threat of massacre and demanded the Spanish pay us a ransom,

"My moneys under the floorboards, can i have my eyeballs back please?" “My moneys under the floorboards, can i have my eyeballs back please?”

We sailed away with 260,000 pieces of eight, precious stones, slaves and happy memories. We thought  l’Olonnais was a fine fellow and called him  “Fléau des Espagnols” (Scourge of the Spanish)

He liked that.

Once we had pissed and spunked our shares away in the taverns of Tortuga, we were ready to set sail again.

There were no end of volunteers for his next voyage.

Unfortunately this one did not go so well. The bastard Spanish ambushed us on the way to San Pedro and we were routed.

A few of us got away and were determined to carry on.

We captured a couple of Spanish stragglers and l’Olonnais – who was in a particularly deranged mood- asked them to reveal a safe route past the troops.

"You don't scare me l'Olonnais. Hang on, is that my heart?" “You don’t scare me l’Olonnais. Hang on, is that my heart?”

They refused, brave lads

” He drew his cutlass, and with it cut open the breast of one of those poor Spanish, and pulling out his heart with his sacrilegious hands, began to bite and gnaw it with his teeth, like a ravenous wolf, saying to the rest: I will serve you all alike, if you show me not another way”.

That’s right, he cut his fucking heart out and then ate it in front of him!

The other soldier couldn’t tell us quick enough after that, but it did us no good. The guards at San Pedro fought us off bravely (cunts) and we were forced to retreat back to our ship.

That was when we REALLY began to drink deep from the cup of misfortune.

We were empty handed and defeated, many were dead or bleeding their life away. Then to make things worse, we ran aground on some fly infested stretch of the Panama coast.

Shipwrecked with no food or water we began a long walk in search of a friendly village.

That was when the gods of misfortune REALLY pissed in our hats.

"Well, this is ironic" “Well, this is ironic”

We were attacked by a vicious tribe of filthy natives called the Kuna who ran all but a few of us through with their spears.

I don’t know what l’Olonnais said to them, but any thoughts that, as a prisoner, he would receive fair treatment soon turned to shitty bilge.

” They tore him in pieces alive, throwing his body limb by limb into the fire and his ashes into the air; to the intent no trace nor memory might remain of such an infamous, inhuman creature”.

The “Scourge of the Spanish” who cut out tongues, ate beating hearts and squeezed out eyeballs, was himself ripped to pieces, cooked and eaten by a bunch of howling savages.

l’Olonnais would have laughed long and loud at that.

Because he was insane, obviously.

 

 

 

 

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