Illustration of Sir Henry Morgan (c.1635–1688) from a 17th-century engraving. Morgan’s daring attacks on Spanish cities and subsequent knighthood made him one of Port Royal’s most celebrated figures.
No pirate is more closely tied to Port Royal’s legacy than Sir Henry Morgan. Born around 1635 in Wales, Morgan came to the West Indies as a young man seeking fortune. He arrived in Jamaica soon after the English conquest and quickly fell in with the buccaneers of Port Royal. Bold, charismatic, and ruthless, Morgan had the perfect makings of a leader in a haven of rogues. By the late 1660s he had risen to de facto admiral of Port Royal’s buccaneer fleet. Under commissions from the Jamaica governors, he led officially sanctioned privateer expeditions against Spain – though in practice he often exceeded any authority given and raided whatever targets promised the richest plunder.
Morgan’s origin story was humble – “a Welshman with a thirst for fame and fortune” – but his exploits soon became the stuff of legend. In 1668 he led a brazen assault on the Spanish stronghold of Portobelo in Panama, capturing it by surprise and brutally sacking the city. The following year he captured the fortress of Maracaibo on the Spanish Main and cunningly escaped a Spanish naval trap there, an episode that cemented his renown for both courage and crafty strategy.
Perhaps Morgan’s most celebrated feat was his 1671 raid on Panama City. With a fleet of 35 ships and 2,000 buccaneers (the largest force Port Royal ever assembled), Morgan trekked through the jungles of the Isthmus of Panama, suffering tropical heat and starvation, to attack the wealthy city from its landward side. The battle was fierce—Morgan’s half-starved men faced defenders ten times their number—yet by day’s end the Spanish garrison fled and Panama City fell to the buccaneers. Morgan’s men looted a fortune so vast that 150 mules were needed to carry the treasure. (Legend has it Morgan cheated his own crew and hid much of the loot for himself, fostering tension among his band.)
The timing, however, was diplomatically disastrous. England and Spain had signed the Treaty of Madrid in July 1670, but the news had not yet reached Port Royal—or was conveniently ignored. Regardless, the raid made Morgan a hero in Jamaica and a terror to the Spanish. It also deeply embarrassed the English Crown, which now had to answer for a brutal assault on an ostensible ally during peacetime.
As a result, Morgan was briefly arrested and sent to London in 1672, but astonishingly he emerged not only unpunished but knighted by King Charles II. The king pragmatically understood Morgan’s value and chose to reward rather than reprimand him—transforming the notorious privateer into a symbol of imperial power in the Caribbean.
Sir Henry Morgan returned to Jamaica as a wealthy planter and was appointed Lieutenant Governor of the island – effectively switching sides from pirate to authority. In his later years (1675–1688), Sir Henry presided over Port Royal’s transformation from pirate haven to a more “respectable” colony. Ironically, the former buccaneer who had once personified Port Royal’s lawless glory now helped enforce anti-piracy measures. Morgan reportedly drank and indulged in the good life as much as ever, but his health declined. He died peacefully at his estate in Jamaica on 25 August 1688, at age 52.
The notorious buccaneer was buried with full pomp and military honors – a sign of the esteem he’d earned from the very society that once benefited from his piratical deeds. In a final twist of fate, nature itself disturbed Morgan’s rest: the great earthquake of 1692 caused the ground at Port Royal’s cemetery to liquefy and sink, carrying Morgan’s grave into the sea. Thus, one might say, the sea reclaimed the pirate in the end. Sir Henry Morgan’s legacy, however, looms larger than life – he remains the iconic “pirate who became a governor,” a symbol of Port Royal’s golden age where rogues could become gentlemen overnight.
Legend holds that Sir Henry Morgan buried a portion of his vast plunder somewhere in Port Royal—and that the earthquake of 1692 swallowed it whole. Some say he hid gold and silver under a stone marked with a trident, others whisper of a sealed vault beneath his estate. After the quake, divers supposedly searched the sunken streets for signs of his lost riches, but none were ever found.
Like most pirate treasure stories, this one lacks proof. Yet the image of Morgan’s wealth slipping into the sea alongside his grave only added to his legend. In Port Royal, where half the city literally vanished underwater, such tales have long floated between memory and myth.