The colonial policy of Spain was calculated to raise up everywhere a host of enemies. In her mistaken anxiety to keep all the wealth of her colonies to herself she prohibited the rest of the world from engaging in trade with them. Only with her might they buy and sell. The result was that a great smuggling trade sprang up. No watchfulness could defeat the daring and ingenuity of the English, Dutch, and French sailors who frequented the Caribbean Sea. No threats could prevent the colonists from attempting to buy and sell in the market that paid them best. The ferocious vengeance of the Spaniards, which in some cases almost exterminated the population of their own colonies, converted the traders into the Buccaneers, an association of sailors of all nations who established themselves in one of the islands of the Caribbean Sea, and who for three-quarters of a century were the scourge of the Spanish trade and dominions. Their cruelty was as remarkable as their skill and daring. They spared neither man, nor woman, nor child. Even half a century after their association had been broken up the memory of their inhuman barbarity was so vivid that no Spanish prisoner ever mounted Anson's deck without a lively dread, which was only equalled by the general surprise at his kindly and courteous treatment. The sight of an English sailor woke terror in every heart. At last, in 1713, by the Treaty of Utrecht, that closed the famous War of the Spanish Succession, in which Marlborough gained his wonderful victories, Spain consented to resign her claim to a monopoly of trade with her colonies so far as to permit one English ship a year to visit the American coasts. But the concession was unavailing. It granted too little to satisfy the traders. The one ship was sent, but as soon as her cargo had been cleared she was reloaded from others which lay in the offing, and the Spanish colonists, only too glad to enrich themselves, actively connived at the irregularity. The Spanish cruisers endeavoured to enforce respect for the treaty. They claimed, not without justice, to search English vessels seen in American waters and to confiscate forbidden cargoes. English pride rebelled, and English sailors resisted. Violent affrays took place. The story of Jenkins' ear kindled a wild, unreasoning blaze of popular resentment, and by 1739 the two countries were on the verge of war. In the temper of the English people Walpole dared not admit the Spanish right of search, and he was compelled by popular feeling to begin a war for which he was not prepared, in a cause in which he did not believe. It was at this point that Anson's expedition was fitted out.