In the long run these privateers often
became little better than pirates, and it has been said "privateers
in time of war were a nursery for pirates against a peace."
The pirates' life was one of reckless daring. They were idle,
swaggering, brutal. All the summer they sailed the seas, a terror
to peaceful merchantmen, and when winter came, or when they were
tired of plundering, they would retire to the West India Islands
or Madagascar. Here, hidden in the depths of forests, they built
for themselves strong castles surrounded by moats and walls. The
paths leading to these castles were made with the greatest cunning.
They were so narrow that people could only go in single file. They
crossed and re-crossed in every direction, so that the castle was
surrounded by a maze, and any one not knowing the secret might wander
for hours without being able to find the dwelling which could not
be seen until one was close upon it.
In these savage fastnesses the pirates lived in squalid splendour.
They had numbers of slaves to wait upon them, the finest wines and
foods, the richest dress and jewels, spoils of their travels. And
when they had drunk and rioted in idleness to their heart's content
they would once more set sail, and roam the seas in search of fresh
adventure.
All sorts of people took to piracy, and scampish sons of noble
houses might be found side by side with the lowest of scoundrels and
vagabonds.
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