November 17th, 1635.

Now fellow Cap'ns, me men were in good spirits as we approached Campeche.  We'd recently took the small port 'o Sisal without losing a single man.  But I knew this 'ere Spanish stronghold would no doubt offer a much more formidable challenge.  Fer tha place had nay less than six blimmy turrets guarding her and probably a garrison 'o fifty 'r more redcoats milling about the town itself.

If'n we was gonna win the day, we'd surely have ta be on fine form.

From the moment the Spaniards saw our approach we could hear the church bells ringing  no doubt warning the rest 'o miserable populace 'o our intentions.  And it wasn't long 'afore the blimmy lubbers opened up wit a few blasts 'o cannon shot from them turrets I mentioned.  Lost seven good men in dat brief encounter.
Within minutes, a bunch 'o bleedin' grenadiers approaches from the local fort and begin showering me hapless buggers wit thar deadly bombs.  I friggin' hate grenadiers.  They be bastids an' can cause ye much grief as they blow yer poor men ta bits.
Anyhow, as luck would have it, the Spanish buggers 'appened to be in range 'o one 'o me ships, so without hesitation, I orders it ta open up wit a 50-gun blast 'o grape shot.  Sure enough, the shot found its target an' them silly grenadiers were cut down where they stood.  The few unfortunate ones that didn't die in tha initial blast soon met a miserable demise when me rallied Cutthroats stormed the outer fortifications 'n shot 'em dead where they stood.

As me men made fer the treasury 'n mansions, the battle intensified.  Musket 'n pistol shots echoed across the entire town 'n the sounds 'o numerous sword fights could be heard back aboard me ships.  The place was a sprawling mass 'o fightin' men from both sides as the defiant militia put up strong resistance.
Numerous fires soon spread from building ta building, and as thick plumes 'o grey smoke drifted over the town, several large explosions rocked its very foundations.

Tha battle seemed ta rage on fer hours 'afore tha blimmy Gov'nor offers me men a few measly tons 'o livestock an' three thousand pesos ta leave 'em be.  Needless ta say,  I informed me murderous buggers to gut that friggin' Gov'nor if'n he ever showed his pox-ridden face with another insultin' offer like that!
Anyhow it weren't long after this than, sure enough, the Spanish bastid turns up again with another offer  but this one was more to our desires, cause the swine simply asked fer quarter from me rampaging psychos an' in return he'd gladly flee wit the rest 'o his miserable citizens.  We 'appily agreed and me victorious swines were left in peace ta loot, pillage, 'n plunder the town to thar black 'earts content.

Again we made merry that evening 'afore loadin' the entire riches 'o tha once proud town' o Campeche onto me ships.
I decided against installing one 'o me mates as the new Gov'nor this time.  Instead we simply wiped out tha whole friggin' cesspool, burned the joint to the ground, hung any foolish buggers that never made good thar escape, then upped anchor at first light 'afore headin' to the next port on our lil' Gulf tour.

However, this time we wouldn't be going in wit all guns a blazing.  We had three ships full 'o loot ta sell back to the dons, so we decided ta fly Spanish colours fer a while 'n hoped me murderous reputation would refrain fer preceding me.  We planned ta sail inta the next town, Vera Cruz, to do some good old-fashioned trading  before I decided whether 'r not ta let loose me dogs 'o war on tha joint 'n hold it ta ransom...

Cap'n Cognito, 17th day 'o November, 1635.