which had recently sailed from Spain under a strong convoy, and being heavily laden, had, in some storm, got separated from the squadron. It was one of the most desperate of enterprises to attack such a ship with their little boat. The ship, though a merchantman, had, without any doubt, some heavy guns, and the crew was well armed.
But they were desperate men; their provisions were exhausted; they were in danger of actual starvation. The captain assembled them all around him, and addressed them in a very glowing and inspiring speech. We cannot quote his identical words. But we have a record of the motives he urged to rouse his men to a frenzy of courage.
“Our cruise,” said he, “has been thus far a failure. We have no money. We have no food. We must soon perish by the most miserable of all deaths, lingering starvation. In that ship there is food in abundance, wine in abundance, gold in abundance. We are now beggars. Let us take that ship, and we are princes. We can revel in luxury. Our fortunes are made for our lives. We can sail to any land we please, and there live in independence. Even if some of us must die, it is better to die suddenly than to starve. We can take the ship if we all do our duty. I call upon every one now to take a solemn oath either to capture the ship or to die in the attempt.”
To this appeal the piratic crew responded with cheers, and the oath was promptly taken. The captain of the Spanish ship had been informed that there was a boat in sight, and that it probably was manned by pirates. He came upon deck, examined it carefully with his glass, and then, turning upon his heel, said contemptuously:
“We need not care for such a pitiful concern as that. It is a mere cockle-shell. If you wish, you may rig the crane out, and we will hoist the whole thing, crew and all, on board. We need fear no ship which is not bigger and stronger than our own.”
The pirates had the advantage of the wind. They kept away until dark. Peter, or Pierre as they called him, informed them of his desperate plan. He would, in the gloom of night, put on all sail, and run his boat directly alongside of the galleon. Grappling-irons were immediately to be thrown over the gunwale of the ship, with ropes attached, by which the boat’s crew were instantly to leap on board. The carpenter was to have tools ready and bore a large hole in the bottom of the boat, so as to sink it at once. He was then to leap on board.
Every man was to have three or four loaded pistols in his belt, and a sabre in his hand. Escape was impossible. If they failed to capture the ship, and were captured themselves, their inevitable doom was death by hanging. The programme was carried out in full. The night was dark. There was no vigilance, no suspicion of danger on board the ship. The boat came alongside the huge bulk of the galleon so noiselessly that it was not perceived.
The pirates rushed pell-mell on board. With their sharp sabres they cut down the terrified crew on the right hand and on the left. Pierre, leading a party, plunged into the cabin. The captain with several of his officers was playing cards. He sprang from his seat exclaiming:
“Lord Jesus; are these devils?”
Pierre, presenting a pistol at his breast, demanded the surrender of the ship. Had the captain or any of his officers raised a hand in self-defence, death would have been their immediate fate. They were all disarmed and bound. Another party, sweeping the decks with sword and pistol, drove all whom they did not kill into the hold, and shut the hatches upon them. They then seized the gun-room, where all the arms and ammunition were stored.
In almost less time than it has taken to describe the scene, this majestic ship with its vast treasures was captured. Not a single pirate was killed or wounded. With three cheers the pirates proclaimed their astounding victory. They were nearly all seamen, and familiar with those waters. They turned the ship to sail to Europe. Coming in sight of an island, they landed the captain and all the ship’s company in a cove, and giving them a small supply of provisions, left them to shift for themselves. Several of the crew remained on board the ship, enlisting in the service of the pirates. This being done, they set sail for France, where they sold their ship, divided their immense booty, scattered, and were heard of no more.
The inhabitants of Tortuga soon received tidings of this brilliant achievement. It seemed to inspire them all with the intense desire to go and do likewise. All Tortuga was in an uproar. Every one applauded a deed which they deemed so glorious as well as so profitable. They saw that by a single enterprise, Pierre had made his fortune for life. In a few months, more than twenty piratic vessels were fitted out at Tortuga.
CHAPTER II.
William Kidd becomes a Pirate.
Ravages of the Pirates.—The King’s Interview with Earl Bellomont.—William Kidd, the New-York Merchant.—His Commission.—Sailing of the Adventure.—Recruiting in New York.—Circuitous Trip to Madagascar.—Perils and Sufferings.—Madagascar the Pirates’ Home.—Murmurings of the Crew.—Kidd reluctantly turns Pirate.—His Repulses, and his Captures.
In the year 1695, the King of England, William III., summoned before him the Earl of Bellomont, who had been governor of Barbadoes, and whom he had recently appointed governor of New York, and said to him:
“The buccaneers have so increased in the East and West Indies, and all along the American coast, that they defiantly sail under their own flag. They penetrate the rivers; land in numbers sufficient to capture cities, robbing palaces and cathedrals, and extorting enormous ransom. Their suppression is vital to commerce. They have possessed themselves of magnificent retreats, in Madagascar and other islands of the Indian Ocean. They have established their seraglios, and are living in fabulous splendor and luxury. Piratic expeditions are fitted out from the colonies of New England and Virginia; and even the Quakers of Pennsylvania afford a market for their robberies. These successful freebooters are making their homes in the Carolinas, in Rhode Island, and along the south shore of Long Island, where they and their children take positions among the most respectable in the community.
“The buccaneers are so audacious that they seek no concealment. Their ships are laden with the spoil of all nations. The richest prizes which can now be taken on the high seas are the heavily laden ships of the buccaneers. I have resolved, with the aid of others, to fit out a private expedition against them. We have formed a company for that purpose. By attacking the pirates we shall accomplish a double object. We shall in the first place check their devastating operations, and we shall also fill our purses with the proceeds of the abundant spoil with which their ships are laden.”
This second consideration was doubtless the leading one in the movement. The king was in great need of money. His nobles were impoverished by extravagance. They were ready to resort to any measures to replenish their exhausted treasuries. This royal company was therefore organized, not as a national movement, sustained by national law, but as a piratic expedition against the pirates. The reclaimed treasure was not to be restored to its owners, nor to be placed in the treasury of the kingdom, but to be divided among the captors as their legitimate spoil. And still the king was to give the commission in his kingly name.
The king informed the Earl of Bellomont that he was about to invest him with the government of New York, and wished him to suggest the name of some suitable person, who was familiar with the North American coast and the West Indian seas, to whom he could intrust the command of the frigate they were then fitting out. It so chanced that an illustrious Englishman, Mr. Robert Livingston, the first of that name who had emigrated to the New World, was then in London. The earl consulted with him. He was informed that just the man he needed had accompanied him from New York to London, leaving his family behind. He was a merchant, by the name of William Kidd, a man of tried courage and integrity.
In the last war with the French, Captain Kidd had commanded a privateersman, and had gained signal honor in many engagements. He had sailed over all the seas frequented by the buccaneers, and was familiar with their haunts. The commission which the king gave to Captain Kidd is a curious document. It is here given abridged of its excessive verbiage:
“William the Third, by the grace of God, King of England, Scotland, France, and Ireland, to our true and well-beloved