CHAPTER VII
KIDD’S END

Kidd’s experience of the legal profession and the procedure of our English courts, though short, had been painfully instructive. After his return to Newgate, he seems to have had no more to do with either of them. But he had yet to reckon with his political and religious advisers, who combined to beset him to the last.

Bellamont’s apologist says: “Dr. G——g knows who the person was, who was with Kidd more than once some few days before his execution and dealt so freely with him as to advise him to charge two lords by name with somewhat that was material, which he said was the only way he could save his life. And the more to provoke the poor wretch to follow his advice, swore to him that those lords and their friends, were restless in soliciting to have him hanged, and therefore it was reasonable for him to do their business.” “God,” he adds, “disappointed all these cursed designs. Perhaps the unhappy creature knew himself incapable to make a probable story, or to carry on one though made to his hands, and that deterred him from hearkening to these counsels of devils. I rather hope that as wicked as he had been, he was not arrived at such a pitch, as to attempt to take away other men’s lives and honour by deliberate perjuries.”

It never seems to have occurred to this gentleman, or indeed to any one else, during Kidd’s last days, that he was innocent of the crimes laid to his charge, and that he was not likely to go back on his word. Not only in his statements with respect to his employers, but also in his simple written narrative to Bellamont and in the oral evidence given at his trial of the various incidents in his voyage he had told a plain unvarnished tale, from which he had never deviated. So far as his dealings with his employers were concerned he had sworn in his examinations before the Admiralty and also in the House of Commons, that he had never seen Somers or Shrewsbury, or heard more of them, than that Bellamont had told him they were two of the owners of the Adventure Galley; that Bellamont had introduced him to Orford and that Colonel Hewson had carried him to Romney in his coach which was all that he knew of them. He had been recalled and pressed to make some further disclosure with regard to these great personages, and asked categorically if he knew anything in relation to Bellamont, Romney, Shrewsbury, Somers, or Orford, or any of the other owners, in relation to his expedition, or any other matter, touching any private directions, articles or instructions, given to him by word of mouth or otherwise. And after taking time “to recollect himself well,” he had affirmed that “he had nothing more to say in relation to the owners than that he had before declared.” It may safely be assumed that his answer to Dr. G——g’s mysterious friend, whoever he may have been, was to the same effect.

It remained now for him to undergo that last trial of his patience, to which all condemned prisoners had in those days to submit, the well-meant attempts on the part of the Chaplain of the gaol to extort from them confessions of their guilt. If Kidd had yielded to this cruel pressure, he would have left this world with a lie upon his lips, as it is to be feared many poor creatures did before and after him. Witness the confessions of some of those convicted of witchcraft. It is no small confirmation of his innocence that he was able to emerge even from this trying ordeal without discredit to his veracity.

The Ordinary of Newgate at that time was the Rev. Paul Lorrain, well known in his day as the author of innumerable “Last Dying Speeches and Confessions” of noted criminals, who seems to have combined with the more serious duties of his calling as confessor to the doomed the somewhat incongruous functions discharged in these latter days by enterprising press interviewers of celebrities in whose personal peculiarities and proclivities the reading public may be supposed to take an interest. He can rarely, if ever, have had more promising subjects for his professional treatment, or men of whose last days his account was likely to have a wider circulation, than Kidd and his fellow sufferers.

There are two extant records of the “Behaviour, Confessions and Last Dying Words of Kidd and the other Pirates that were Executed with Him.” Both were published by the same printer, E. Mallet at the Hat and Hawk in Bride Lane. One of these accounts is signed by Lorrain on the day of the execution, and concludes with these words: “This is all the account, which (in this hurry) can be given of these persons by Paul Lorrain. Friday, May the 23rd 1701.” It is clear from internal evidence that the earlier part of this account had been carefully composed before the day of execution, and that it was only the concluding portion of it which was hurriedly written on that day. No inconsiderable part of the earlier paragraphs is devoted to the texts and heads of the discourses delivered by the Ordinary to the prisoners, on the two preceding Sundays when they had had the privilege of listening to him. These, admirable as they may be, it is unnecessary to reproduce in the present narrative. From the remainder of this account it appears that Lorrain on the day after their trial visited the prisoners, and “did pray with them and admonish them to self examination and repentance,” that during his whole attendance on them, which was “every day, both forenoon and afternoon” until the day of execution, he “pressed upon them the acts of faith and repentance, exhorting them to confess their crimes.” “I at last,” he says, “prevailed on them to uncover and own those crimes which they had before so industriously endeavoured to hide or excuse, particularly Captain Kidd, who vainly flattering himself with hopes of a reprieve, deferred his confession so long that there was hardly any time left for taking it in any exactness or order.” (It is clear from the latter part of his account that Kidd never confessed to any of the crimes of which he had been convicted.) “Darby Mullins, one of the condemned pirates was of all the rest the most ready and free to open himself to me: and therefore I shall begin with his confession.” Let us see what the free and open confession of this poor man amounted to and what were the heinous crimes, which he had so industriously endeavoured to hide or excuse.

“I. Darby Mullins, about 40 years old, born in Ireland hard by Mullingfelt, about 16 miles from Londonderry. He said he lived in his own country and with his parents and followed the plough, while he was young, but being kidnapped he was carried away into the West Indies, where he served a planter for the space of four years. Afterwards he turned a waterman, and followed several other employments in and about Jamaica. And when the earthquake happened there he was miraculously preserved, yet took no great notice of his deliverance, so as to be thankful (as he ought) to God for it, which is now matter of trouble and grief to him. After this earthquake he went to Kingston, a town in these parts, and there he built himself a house and sold liquors, etc. Then he came to New York, with his family in the Charity, Captain Sims commander, and continued there two years. At the end of which he took his passage on board Captain Slade to the Madeiras, where he stayed but three weeks and then returned to New York; and some time after having bury’d his wife there, he was not able any longer to keep house; but apply’d himself to carrying and fetching wood from place to place in a boat of his own, about 20 tons. Then he left off this employment and engaged himself with Captain Kidd and afterwards with Captain Culliford, not knowing but that it was very lawful (as he said he was told) to plunder the enemies of Christianity. But now he being shew’d that those were the greatest enemies to Christ and his religion, who did such unaccountable things, as he and his companions did, contrary to the laws of Christianity, which they profess, he said he heartily begged pardon of God and the world for it, and wished he had not been such an offender. He confessed he had been a great sinner in that he had not served God as he should have done, but far from that had of late very much given himself up to swearing, cursing and profaning the Sabbath Day, which had deservedly brought this calamity upon him. He seemed to be very penitent of the facts, for which he was justly condemned, and prayed to God to forgive both these and the other errors and miscarriages of his past life. He was a poor unlearned person, not very much acquainted with the principles of religion. Yet he was very willing to be directed and express’d great hopes that through the merits of Christ he should find mercy and salvation.”

“II. Captain William Kidd, condemned for murder and piracy. He was about 56 years of age. I found him very unwilling to confess the crime he was convicted of, or to declare anything, other than that he had been a great offender, and lived without any due consideration either of God’s mercys or judgments, or of his wonderful works which had so often been set before him. That he” (like Mullins) “never remembered to have returned Him thanks for the many great deliverances he had received from him, or call’d himself to account for what he had done. But now he owns that God is a just God, and he is a vile and wretched sinner. He says he repents of all his sins and hopes to be saved through the merits of Christ. He further declares that he dies in charity with all the world.” So far, it is clear, he had made no confession either of murder or piracy.

“On the day being the day of execution, I went betimes to these condemned persons, and had them up to the Chappel both morning and afternoon, where having given them further admonitions to Faith and Repentance, they seemed to me very desirous and earnestly striving to die in God’s favour. Only I was afraid the hardness of Captain Kidd’s heart was still unmelted. I therefore apply’d myself with particular exhortations to him” (‘the innocentest person of them all,’ to quote his own words) “and laid the judgment of God against impenitent and hardened sinners, as well as his tender mercies to those that were true and sincere penitents, very plainly before him. To all which he readily assented and said that he truly repented of all his sins, and forgave all the world: and I was in good hopes that he did so. But having left him to go a little before him to the place of execution, I found to my unspeakable grief, when he was brought thither, that he was inflamed with drink,” (Some kind fellow countryman had possibly given the poor old man a wee drappie of which he must have stood sorely in need, after all these exhausting religious exercises and his confinement for over a year in Newgate), “which had so discompos’d his mind that it was now in a very ill frame, and very unfit for the great work now or never to be perform’d by him. I prayed for him, and so did other worthy divines that were present, to whom as well as to myself the Captain appeared to be much out of order, and not so concerned or affected as he ought to have been. ’Tis true he spoke some words expressing his confidence in God’s mercys through Christ, and likewise declared that he died in Charity with all the world. But still I suspected his sincerity” (Why?) “because he was more reflective upon others than upon himself” (as he might well be) “and would still endeavour to lay his faults upon his crew and others, going about to excuse and justify himself much about the same manner, as he did upon his trial. When I left him at Newgate he told me he would make a full confession at the tree,” (so he did, of everything he had to confess) “but instead of that he was unwilling (contrary to my expectation) to own the justice of his condemnation or so much as the providence of God, who for his sins had deservedly brought him to this untimely end. I continued to pray for him and the rest, who (to outward appearance) were very humble and penitent, particularly Darby Mullins, who persisted in asserting what he had told me before and said it was the truth and he had nothing to add to or diminish from it. This being done and the Captain having warned all mariners of ships and others to have a care of themselves, and take warning from him” (the words of his warning were very significant as will be seen below) “I then sang with them a Penitential Psalm, and after another short prayer, recommending them to God, I parted with them and left them to the Divine Mercy. And then they were turned off.”

“But here I must take notice of a remarkable (and I hope a most lucky) accident which then did happen,” (it may be doubted whether the reverend gentleman would have considered it so lucky if it had befallen himself) “which was this, that the rope by which Captain Kidd was ty’d broke, and so falling to the ground he was taken up alive, and by this means had opportunity to consider more of that Eternity he was launching into. When he was brought up and ty’d again to the tree, I desired leave to go to him again, which was granted. Then I showed him the great mercy of God in giving him unexpectedly this further respite, that so he might improve the few moments left now so mercifully allowed him in perfecting his Faith and Repentance. Now I found him in much better temper than before. But as I was unwilling, and the station also very incommodious and improper for me to offer anything to him by way of question, that might have perhaps discomposed his spirit, so I contented myself to press him to embrace (before it was too late) the Mercy of God now again offered him upon the easy conditions of Stedfast Faith, True Repentance and Perfect Charity, which now he did so fully and freely express, that I hope he was hearty and sincere in it, declaring openly that he repented with all his heart, and dy’d in Christian Love and Charity with all the world” (as he had repeatedly said before). “This he said, as he was on the top of the ladder (the scaffold being now broken down) and myself halfway on it, as close to him as I could, who having for the last time prayed with him, left him with a greater satisfaction than I had before, that he was penitent.”

From the later account above referred to which purports to be “The only True Account of the Dying Speeches of the Condemned Pirates,” and is possibly a revised edition of the earlier account by Paul Lorrain, we learn that “all the prisoners were conveyed from Newgate to the execution dock in Wapping by the officers of the Admiralty and others, carrying the Silver Oar before them according to the usual custom:” that Kidd’s “behaviour in Newgate after condemnation was not so serious and devout as became a person under his circumstances, but whether it proceeded from an heroick temper in not seeming to be in any way terrified or afraid on the approaches of death (tho’ in a violent manner) he being naturally of an undaunted mind and resolution, or from a conceited hope of obtaining a reprieve, there being great endeavours tho’ in vain used for that purpose, is yet unknown.”

The author of this account also informs us that Kidd “could hardly be brought to a charitable reconciliation with those persons, who were evidences against him alleging that they deposed many things that were inconsistent with truth and that much of their evidence was by hearsay: and in the general part of his discourse seemed not only to reflect on them but on several others, who instead of being his friends as they professed, had traitorously been instrumental in his ruin!” “He further declared that as to the death of William Moore, his gunner, the blow that he gave him, it was in a passion, as being provoked by him to do so, but not with an intention of any manifest injury, much less to kill or murder him. Nay, he was so far from bearing any malice against him, that he freely gave £200 for his ransom, and further said that all his sailors knew he always had a great love and respect for him; adding that if any one concerned in his tryal had acted contrary to the dictates of his or their own conscience he heartily forgave them, and desired that God would do the like.” “He expressed abundance of sorrow for leaving his wife and children without having the opportunity of taking leave of them, they being inhabitants in New York. So that the thoughts of his wife’s sorrow at the sad tidings of his shameful death was more occasion of grief to him than that of his own sad misfortunes.” “He desired all seamen in general, more especially Captains in particular to take warning by his dismal unhappiness and shameful death and that they would avoid the means and occasions that brought him thereto, and also that they would act with more caution and prudence, both in their private and public affairs by sea and land, adding that this was a very fickle and faithless generation.” (He had undoubtedly found it so.) “After he had ended his discourse to the people, he spent the rest of his time in Prayer and other pious and Godly exercises with the Ordinary of Newgate and other ministers: and at last seemed very devout and penitent, expressing his hearty sorrow for his manifest transgressions, especially the unhappy and sudden death of William Moore his gunner—but would not call it murder to the very last, esteeming it rather an accidental misfortune than a murder by reason that there was but one blow given and that in passion without any premeditated malice.”

No reference is made in this account to Kidd’s being “inflamed with drink.” It is clear from it that whether or not he had been given a drop of whiskey on his way to execution, he was to the end in the full possession of his faculties.

The only member of his crew who was hung with him was poor Darby Mullins, the remainder being at the last moment reprieved. Why Mullins, who had surrendered himself to the Governor of East Jersey along with two others, relying on the King’s proclamation, was selected as Kidd’s fellow-sufferer, is not clear. It is true that he was an Irishman, and in the opinion of the chaplain in a better frame of mind to meet his death than any of his companions: but neither of these circumstances in itself seems quite a satisfactory justification for hanging him. He had no doubt joined Culliford, unquestionably by far the most guilty of all the seamen implicated, but for whose presence at Madagascar, when the Adventure Galley arrived there, Kidd in all probability would have been able to bring his prizes home before the hue and cry had been raised against him. But Culliford, though indicted for several piracies about the same time as Kidd, apparently escaped scot free, having been clever enough to save his neck by surrendering to the right persons under the King’s proclamation, and to secure the services of a counsel who did not fail to put in an appearance on his behalf, when his case came on for hearing; the result of which was that “his case” (according to a note in the State Trials) “being particular and argued by Counsel he was respited.”

To come now to the last painful incident in this disgraceful tragedy. The day after Kidd’s corpse had been hung aloft in chains on the gallows, Somers dared at last to break the silence he had so long maintained and to put in his reply to the Articles of Impeachment brought against him by the Commons. The allegations he had to meet were that in the grant of the goods of the pirates to the co-adventurers, the name of Samuel Newton, one of the Grantees, had been “used in trust and for the sole benefit of” himself: that “the grant manifestly tended to the obstruction of trade and navigation, the great loss and prejudice of merchants and others, His Majesty’s subjects, and the dishonour of the King and his Kingdom:” and that “by procuring and passing it,” he had been guilty of a notorious breach of his duty. In his reply he was forced to admit that Newton had been named in the grant, “by and in trust for him,” and was apparently unable to give any excuse whatever for this discreditable deception. He pleaded that the grant “did not in any way tend to the obstruction or discouragement of trade or navigation, or to the loss or prejudice of His Majesty’s subjects, nor to the dishonour of His Majesty or His Kingdom.” He denied (and the denial implied what would be considered in these days a very low estimate of official honesty) that the passing of the grant was any breach of duty, inasmuch as it “was formed as a recompense to the grantees, who at their own charge had provided and fitted out the said Ship” (the Adventure Galley) to enable Kidd “to execute the powers in the said grant mentioned, whereby the public might have received great benefit had the said William Kidd faithfully discharged the trust reposed in him by His Majesty and the Grantees, which he failing to do, the owners of the said ship had lost their expenses, and had not received any benefit from the grant.”

As a matter of fact, it may well be doubted whether any of the grantees, excepting Kidd and Livingstone, lost any part of their expenses. As has already been shown, one of the conditions on which their legal advisers had been careful to insist had been that if the prize moneys were insufficient to make good the full amount advanced by the grantees, other than Kidd and Livingstone, the deficiency was to be made good by Kidd and Livingstone, both of them men of substance. We have seen with what eagerness, and with what disastrous results to Kidd, Livingstone had endeavoured to get his bond restored to him by Bellamont. That Kidd’s estate of itself, notwithstanding the fact that he was unable in Newgate to get funds for his defence until the night before his trial, was sufficient to have covered any loss sustained by the great men, who had exploited him, is clear from the fact that of his effects forfeited to the Crown, six thousand four hundred and seventy-one pounds were afterwards given by Queen Anne towards the establishment of Greenwich hospital.[14] But whether or not these great men found it inconvenient to reclaim their one thousand pounds apiece, it is impossible to doubt that when making this cruelly unjust charge of faithlessness against Kidd the day after his death, Somers was fully acquainted with the essential facts of the case. It is incredible that he had not read Kidd’s narrative, the depositions of his men, and Bellamont’s correspondence, and that he was not cognizant of all the proceedings at Kidd’s trial, the keeping back of the French passes by the Admiralty officials: the failure of Kidd’s counsel to put in an appearance on the critical day when he was tried for piracy; the break-down of the most material parts of the King’s evidence; and the manner in which the trials had been conducted throughout by the Lord Chief Baron. It is to be feared that he not only knew all this, but that his was the unseen master hand that had held the strings, which had been so skilfully and ruthlessly manipulated as to bring about Kidd’s death so opportunely by the verdicts of London juries. If this be so, what is to be said of the Whig historians, who have dealt with Kidd’s case? Is it possible to believe in the face of indisputably recorded facts, that Somers really was the immaculate politician of his day depicted for us by Macaulay, “whose integrity,” we have been assured, “was ever certain to come forth bright and pure from the most severe investigation”? In the foregoing pages an attempt has been made, it is believed for the first time, to allow the personages who took part in this melancholy business to speak for themselves, so far as the extant records permit. Hitherto by a conspiracy of silence, their voices have been hushed, and the facts of the case studiously suppressed or perverted by eminent advocates, who have thought it necessary, if the memories of Somers and his colleagues were to be cleansed from the stigma which clung to them in their own day from the part they took in it, that Kidd’s reputation should be blackened, and that he should be depicted as a villain of the deepest dye, whom, on account of his unexceptionable antecedents, these great men were fully justified in employing, but whose character underwent so rapid a deterioration after he had once come into contact with them, that he betrayed them for the purpose of enriching himself with spoils, of which as a matter of fact he stood in little need and which he made no effort to secure for himself. He has been represented by Macaulay not only as a rapacious pirate, but also as a monster of cruelty, who for his own ends depraved his crew and led them into every kind of wickedness. To quote but one passage from Macaulay’s indefensible and inexcusable travesty, “With the rapacity he had the cruelty of his odious calling. He burnt houses: he massacred peasantry. His prisoners were tied up and beaten with naked cutlasses, in order to obtain information about their concealed hoards. One of his crew, whom he had called a dog, was provoked into exclaiming in an agony of remorse, ‘Yes, I am a dog: but it is you that have made me so.’ Kidd in a fury struck the man dead.”

These accusations have obtained ready credence; but their absurdity will be evident to any one who will take the pains to examine the records. There is no reason whatever for believing that Kidd was cruel or rapacious. The only ground for suggesting that “he massacred peasantry” is the one case, when his cooper’s throat having been cut by the natives, he retaliated by ordering one native to be shot. This was the only time when it was ever alleged in his own day that he had burnt houses: and we have it on the authority of Palmer, the King’s evidence against him, that on this occasion Kidd had given express orders to his men to spare the houses that had white flags hoisted on them, because their inmates had helped to water his ship. The episode on the strength of which Macaulay accuses him of causing his prisoners to be beaten with cutlasses, in order to extort from them information as to their concealed hoards, has already been explained. The men in question were not his prisoners. He allowed them to proceed peacefully on their voyage, and their ship was not taken from them. Kidd never went on board of her, much less did he give directions to his crew to ill-use them. Questioned as to whether any gold had been taken from them, Palmer freely admitted that he did not see any. Asked further by Kidd, whether it was not the case that a parcel of rogues had gone on board and done the deed complained of, he virtually admitted that it was so by making no reply. In the matter of cruelty there is a marked difference between the reported doings of Kidd and of the pirates of whom the East India Company were repeatedly complaining. In these complaints mention is often made of the outrages committed: but in the case of Kidd the Company made no complaint of similar misdeeds. From all that can be learned of him, he seems to have been a kind-hearted man. There is no reason to doubt the truth of his dying statement that he had paid two hundred pounds for his gunner Moore’s ransom, probably on the occasion when the natives had cut his cooper’s throat. One of the reasons which led Bellamont to employ him is stated by Bellamont’s apologist to have been Kidd’s well-known affection for his wife and family, which was also relied on by Bellamont as being strong enough to prevent him from attempting to escape by forsaking them on his return. And we have it on the record of a witness who certainly had no bias in his favour that his chief solicitude in Newgate after he had been sentenced to death was for them and not for himself.

The suggestion that Moore, when knocked on the head by Kidd, was “in an agony of remorse” for acts of piracy which Kidd had led him to commit, is almost too ludicrous to call for comment. It is absolutely clear from the evidence of every witness of the occurrence that so far from Kidd having led Moore astray, Moore had vainly endeavoured to induce Kidd to become a pirate, and that it was his failure to succeed in this endeavour that led to the altercation which ended in his death.

But the most flagrant fiction fabricated by a Whig historian in relation to poor Kidd, is not to be found in Macaulay’s history, but in the pages of a grave historical work, compiled by an eminent lawyer, who in his day had filled not only the office of Lord Chief Justice, but also that of Lord Chancellor. That great legal luminary, Lord Campbell, in his “Life of Somers” has not hesitated to insert a circumstantial fable to the effect that Kidd was caught red-handed on the high seas in the midst of his criminal career. In the fifth volume of his “Lives of the Chancellors,” pages 126 and 127, he tells the tale thus: “A noble vessel called the Adventure Galley was fitted out, and the command of her given to William Kidd, a naval officer, esteemed for honour as well as for gallantry. On arriving in the Indian Seas, he turned pirate himself, and cruised against the commerce of all nations indiscriminately, till after a sharp engagement with an English frigate in which several fell on both sides, he was captured and brought home in irons.” To such depths can history sink when written by political partisans of the highest rank and respectability.