PIRACY—ORIGIN OF THE BUCCANEERS—THEIR MANNER OF LIFE—DRESS—OCCUPATION—THE ISLAND OF TORTUGA THEIR HEAD-QUARTERS—THEIR RELIGIOUS SCRUPLES—MANNER OF DIVIDING SPOILS—THE EXTERMINATOR—THE OBSERVANCE OF THE SABBATH—EXPLOITS OF HENRY MORGAN—IMPOTENCE OF THE SPANIARDS—CAREER OF WILLIAM DAMPIER—HIS FIRST PIRATICAL CRUISE—ADVENTURES BY LAND AND SEA—DESCRIPTION OF THE PLANTAIN-TREE—LINGERING DEATHS BY POISON—REPROACHES OF CONSCIENCE—THE NEW-HOLLANDERS—DAMPIER'S DANGEROUS VOYAGE IN AN OPEN BOAT—PIRACY UPON THE AMERICAN COAST—WILLIAM KIDD SENT AGAINST THE PIRATES—HE TURNS PIRATE HIMSELF—HIS EXPLOITS, DETECTION, AND EXECUTION—HIS BURIED TREASURES—WRECK OF THE WHIDAH PIRATE-SHIP.

It is necessary to pause at this period in our review of the grand maritime expeditions which successively left the various seaports of the world, in order to refer to a practice which was now rendering commerce hazardous and the whole highway of the seas insecure,—piracy. Besides the numerous isolated adventurers who preyed upon the vessels of any and every nation which fell in their way, a powerful association or league of robbers, who infested particularly the West India Islands and the Caribbean Sea, and who bore the name of Buccaneers, became, during the century of which we are now speaking, the peculiar dread of Spanish ships. We shall describe this fraternity in some detail. The term buccaneer is a corruption of the French word boucanier, which in its turn was made from the Caribbean noun boucan, being the flesh of cattle dried and preserved in a peculiar manner. The French also called them flibustiers, this word being a corruption of the English word freebooters; and this French word has been still further tortured into "Filibusters,"—a term now applied to such Americans as desire violently to extend the area of freedom.

The buccaneers were principally natives of Great Britain and France, and first attract notice in the island of St. Domingo. The Spaniards would not allow any other nation than their own to trade in the West Indies, and pursued and murdered the English and French wherever they found them. Every foreigner discovered among the islands or on the coast of the American continent was treated as a smuggler and a robber; and it was not long before they became so, and organized themselves into an association capable of returning cruelty by cruelty. The Spaniards employed coast-guards to keep off interlopers, the commanders of which were instructed to massacre all their prisoners. This tended to produce a close alliance, offensive and defensive, among the mariners of all other nations, who in their turn made descents upon the coasts and ravaged the weaker Spanish towns and settlements. A permanent state of hostilities was thus established in the West Indies, independent of peace or war at home. After the failure of the mines of St. Domingo and its abandonment by the Spaniards, it was taken possession of, early in the sixteenth century, by a number of French wanderers who had been driven out of St. Christopher; and their numbers were soon augmented by adventurers from all quarters.

As they had neither wives nor children, they generally lived together by twos for mutual protection and assistance: when one died, the survivor inherited his property, unless a will was found bequeathing it to some relative in Europe. Bolts, locks, and all kinds of fastenings were prohibited among them, the maxim of "honor among thieves" being considered a more efficient safeguard. The dress of a buccaneer consisted of a shirt dipped in the blood of an animal just slain, a leathern girdle in which hung pistols and a short sabre, a hat with feathers,—but without a rim, except a fragment in guise of a visor to pull it on and off,—and shoes of untanned hide, without stockings. Each man had a heavy musket and usually a pack of twenty or thirty dogs. Their business was, at the outset, cattle-hunting; and they sold hides to the Dutch who resorted to the island to purchase them. They possessed servants and slaves, consisting of persons decoyed to the West Indies and induced to bind themselves for a certain number of years. They treated them with great severity. The following epigrammatic conversation is reported as having taken place between an apprentice and a buccaneer. "Master," said the servant, "God has forbidden the practice of working on the Sabbath: does he not say, 'Six days shalt thou labor; and on the seventh shalt thou rest'?" "But I say unto thee," returned the buccaneer, "six days shalt thou kill cattle; and on the seventh shalt thou carry their hides to the shore."

The Spaniards inhabiting other portions of St. Domingo conceived the idea of ridding the island of the buccaneers by destroying all the wild cattle; and this was carried into execution by a general chase. The buccaneers abandoned St. Domingo and took refuge in the mountainous and well-wooded island of Tortuga, of which they made themselves absolute lords and masters. The advantages of the situation brought swarms of adventurers and desperadoes to the spot; and from cattle-hunters the buccaneers became pirates. They made their cruises in open boats, exposed to all the inclemencies of the weather, and captured their prizes by boarding. They attacked indiscriminately the ships of every nation, feeling especial hostility and exercising peculiar cruelty towards the Spaniards. They considered themselves to be justified in this by the oppression of the Mexicans and Indians by Spanish rulers, and, quieting their consciences by thus assuming the character of avengers and dispensers of poetic justice, they never embarked upon an expedition without publicly offering up prayers for success, nor did they ever return laden with spoils without as publicly giving thanks for their good fortune.

They seldom attacked any European ships except those homeward bound,—which were usually well freighted with gold and silver. They pursued the Spanish galleons as far as the Bahamas; and if, on the way, a ship became accidentally separated from the convoy, they instantly attacked her. The Spaniards held them in such terror that they usually surrendered on coming to close quarters. The spoil was equitably divided, provision being first made for the wounded. The loss of an arm was rated at six hundred dollars, and other wounds in proportion. The commander could claim but one share,—although, when he had acquitted himself with distinction, it was usual to compliment him by the addition of several shares. When the division was effected, the buccaneers abandoned themselves to all kinds of rioting and licentiousness till their wealth was expended, when they started in pursuit of new booty.

The buccaneers now rapidly increased in strength, daring, and numbers. They sailed in larger vessels, and undertook enterprises requiring great energy and audacity. Miguel de Baseo captured, under the guns of Portobello, a Spanish galleon valued at a million of dollars. In Europe, immense editions of books were published, giving accounts of the barbarities committed by the Spaniards and of the holy reprisals waged against them by the buccaneers. A Frenchman by the name of Montbars, on reading these narratives, conceived so deadly a hatred for the Spaniards, and, after becoming a buccaneer, killed so many of them, that he obtained the title of "The Exterminator." His audacity was only equalled by his love of shedding Spanish blood, by which he believed himself to be avenging the unhappy victims of Spanish colonization.

Other men joined the "Brethren of the Coast"—as they were sometimes called—from less ferocious motives. Raveneau de Lussan joined the association because he was in debt, and in consequence of a conviction entertained by him that "every honest man ought in conscience to pay his creditors." Many of the buccaneers were men of a religious temperament; or, at least, they thought that proper respect should be paid to appearances, and that due deference should be had towards the prejudices of society. It was doubtless from such sentiments as these that Captain Daniel shot one of his crew in church for behaving irreverently during mass, that Captain Sawkins threw a pair of dice overboard on finding them contributing to a game of chance on Sunday, and that Captain Watling ordered his men to regard, as the very first rule of their association, that which instructed them to keep holy the Sabbath day.

But the fame of all the buccaneer commanders was eclipsed by that of Henry Morgan, a Welshman. The boldest and most astonishing of his exploits was his forcing his way across the Isthmus of Darien from the Atlantic to the Pacific Ocean. His object was to plunder the rich city of Panama: his expedition, however, opened the way to the great Southern Sea, where the buccaneers laid the foundation of much of our geographical knowledge of that ocean. He first took the castle of San Lorenzo, at the mouth of the river Chagres, where out of three hundred and fourteen Spaniards he put two hundred to death. He left five hundred men in the castle, one hundred and fifty on board of his thirty-seven ships, and with the rest—who, after deducting the killed and wounded, amounted to about twelve hundred men—began his progress through a wild and trackless country which was then known only to the native Indians. On the tenth day, after a desperate combat with the Spaniards, he took and plundered Panama, which then consisted of about seven thousand houses. His cruelties here were abominable. He imprisoned one of his female captives, with whom he had fallen in love but who repelled his advances, causing her to be cast into a dungeon and to be insufficiently supplied with food. But his men murmured at the delay, and he was compelled to depart. He returned to the mouth of the Chagres with an enormous booty, and, after defrauding the fleet of their share of the spoils, sailed for Jamaica, which was already an English colony. He was made Deputy Governor of the island by Charles II., by whom he was also knighted. He proved an efficient officer, and gave no quarter to the buccaneers!

Morgan's expedition had pointed out a short way to the South Sea; and in 1680, some three hundred English buccaneers started from the Atlantic side to cross the isthmus. They formed an alliance with the Darien Indians, who furnished them a quantity of canoes upon the Pacific side. They launched out in these into the Bay of Panama, attacked three large armed ships, took two of them, and began cruising in them. They captured vessels and plundered towns along the coast. Some of them remained a long time in the South Sea, and made many discoveries of undoubted benefit to mankind.

The Spaniards never dared to defend themselves unless they greatly outnumbered their assailants, and even then they were usually routed with ease. They had become so enervated by luxury that they had lost all military spirit and had well-nigh forgotten the use of arms. They had acquired from the monks the idea that the buccaneers were devils, cannibals, and beings of monstrous form. They revenged themselves upon the enemy whom they dared not meet by mangling and subjecting to mimic tortures such dead bodies of the invaders as were left behind,—an exhibition of impotent rage which only excited the buccaneers to fresh cruelties.

One of the English buccaneers—William Dampier—became subsequently an eminent discoverer, author, and philosopher. After receiving a collegiate education, he went to sea in northern latitudes, which for a time disgusted him with a maritime life. A voyage to the East Indies, the superintendence of a plantation in Jamaica, and three years spent among the logwood-cutters of Campeachy, gave him a strong bias for the tropical waters. In Campeachy he became acquainted with some of the buccaneers, whose descriptions of their adventures kindled in him a fondness for a roving and piratical life. He joined an expedition under Captain John Cooke: an English pilot named Cowley was engaged as master, and embarked in complete ignorance of the nature of the voyage. They sailed in August, 1683, in the Revenge, mounting eight guns and manned by fifty-two men. Cowley was told the first day that the vessel's mission was trade and her destination St. Domingo; on the second, he was informed that piracy was her object and Guinea her market.

Stopping at the Cape Verd Islands, they resolved to go to Santiago, in the hope of finding some ship in the road, and intending to cut her cable and run away with her. They saw a ship at anchor, and approached her with hostile intent. They were not far off when her company struck her ports and ran out her lower tier of guns. Cooke bore away as fast as he could, convinced that he was unable to cope with a Dutch East Indiaman of fifty guns and four hundred men. Some time after, when off Sierra Leone, they fell in with a newly built ship of forty guns, well furnished with water, provisions, and brandy, which they boarded and captured. They named her the Revenge, and continued their voyage in her, destroying their original vessel. From here they crossed the Atlantic, to the Patagonian coast. They doubled Cape Horn during a tremendous storm of rain, which furnished them with twenty-three barrels of fresh water. The weather was at this time so cold that the men could drink three quarts of burnt brandy in twenty-four hours without being intoxicated. They joined company in the Pacific with the Nicholas, of twenty-six guns, Captain John Eaton, and started together upon an attempt against the Peruvian coast. They captured three flour-ships, and learned from the prisoners that their presence was known to the Peruvian authorities. Their design upon the coast was therefore abandoned. They carried their prizes to the Gallapagos or Tortoise Islands, where they might store their captured provisions in a secure place. They arrived and anchored there on the 31st of May, 1684.

Proceeding to the northward, they descried the coast of Mexico early in July, where Cooke, who had been ill for some months, died and was buried. Edward Davis, quartermaster, was elected captain in his stead. The two ships separated on the 2d of September, the Nicholas withdrawing from the partnership. Davis and Dampier remained in the Revenge, and were soon joined by the Cygnet, a richly-loaded vessel designed for trading on this coast. Her captain lightened her by throwing his unsalable cargo overboard. They attacked Paita in the month of November, but found it evacuated. They held the town for six days, hoping the inhabitants would ransom it; but, as this hope was disappointed, they set the town on fire. On the 1st of January, 1685, they captured a package of letters sent by the President of Panama to hasten the captains of the silver-fleet from Lima, as the coast was believed to be clear. Being particularly desirous that the silver-fleet should share this belief, they suffered the letter-bearers to continue their voyage and resolved to lie in wait for the ships. In the mean time they captured several prizes, and manned them with buccaneers that they met, from time to time, engaged in small enterprises on separate accounts. By the end of May, their fleet consisted of ten sail, two of them being ships of war, carrying fifty-two guns and nine hundred and sixty men. The Spanish fleet—consisting of fourteen sail, eight of them men-of-war, and two of them fire-ships, the whole manned by three thousand men—now hove in sight. The admiral of the fleet deceived the buccaneers at night, by hoisting a light upon the topmast of an abandoned bark, by which they were decoyed into a position which gave the Spaniards the next day all the advantage of the wind. Thus was the grand scheme adroitly frustrated.

Having thus failed at sea, they agreed to try their fortune on land, and chose the city of Leon, on the coast of Nicaragua. Four hundred and seventy men were landed for this purpose. They were met and opposed by five hundred foot and two hundred horse, both of which arms of the service retreated in confusion at the first collision. As they refused to ransom the city for thirty thousand dollars, it was set on fire. A Spanish gentleman, who had been captured by the buccaneers, was released upon his promise to deliver one hundred and fifty oxen at Realejo, the next place which they intended to attack. Realejo was taken, but yielded them little of value except five hundred bags of flour, with some pitch, tar, and cordage, and the one hundred and fifty promised oxen. Captains Davis and Swan now agreed to separate,—the former wishing to return to Peru, and the latter desiring to visit the northern coasts of Mexico. Dampier remained with Swan in the Cygnet.

Towards the middle of September they came in sight of the city and volcano of Guatemala. Dampier landed at the port of Guatulco with one hundred and forty men, and marched fourteen miles to attack an Indian village, where they found nothing but vanilla beans drying in the sun. They endeavored to cut out a Lima bullion-ship lying off Acapulco, but failed. Not far from here they robbed a caravan of sixty mules, laden with flour, chocolate, cheese, and earthen-ware. They found and appropriated an abundance of maize, sugar, salt, and salt fish. Dampier, being afflicted with the dropsy, was cured—or, at least, much benefited—by being buried up to his neck for half an hour in the sand in California. A profuse perspiration, which was thus brought on, was the commencement of his convalescence.

Swan and Dampier were now convinced that the commerce of this region was not carried on by sea, but by land, by means of mules and caravans. They therefore resolved to try their fortune in the East Indies. They sailed from California on the 31st of March, 1686. They made the island of Guam, after a voyage of six thousand miles, in seven weeks, having but three days' provisions left, and the men having begun to talk of eating Captain Swan when these were exhausted. They found the island defended by a small fort mounting six guns, and containing a garrison of thirty men with a Spanish governor,—this being solely for the convenience of the Manilla galleons on their annual voyages from Acapulco to Manilla. The governor, being deceived as to the character of the ship, sent the captain some hogs, cocoanuts, and rice, and fifty pounds of Manilla tobacco.

They learned here, from the friar belonging to the garrison, that Mindanao, one of the Philippine Islands, was very fertile and productive, and that the natives, who were Mohammedans, were at war with the Spaniards. They therefore resolved to go there, and left Guam on the 2nd of June. After seeing Luzon, (Matan,) where Magellan was killed, they anchored off Mindanao, the largest of the Philippines with the exception of Luzon. Though mountainous, Dampier found its soil "deep, black, and extraordinary fat and fruitful." The valleys were moistened with pleasant brooks "and small rivers of delicate water, and in the heart of the country were mountains that yielded good gold."

Dampier's description of the plantain-tree is often quoted as a fine specimen of descriptive writing. "It is," he says, "the king of all fruit, not excepting the cocoanut. The tree is three feet round and twelve feet high: it is not raised from seed, but from the roots of old trees. As soon as the fruit is ripe the tree decays; but suckers at once spring up and bear in a twelvemonth. It comes up with two leaves, within which, by the time it is a foot high, two more spring up, and in a short time two more, and so on. When full grown, the leaves are seven or eight feet long and a foot and a half broad. The stem of the leaf is as big as a man's arm. The fruit-stem shoots out at the top of the full-grown tree,—first blossoming, and then bearing. The Spaniards give it the pre-eminence over all other fruit, as most conducive to life. It grows in a cod about seven inches long and three inches thick. The shell or rind is soft, and, when ripe, yellow. The fruit within is of the consistency of butter in winter. It has a very delicate flavor, and melts in the mouth like marmalade. It is pure pulp, without kernel, seed, or stone. A large plantation of these trees will yield fruit throughout the year, and will furnish the exclusive food of a family. The markets of Havana, Carthagena, Portobello, &c. are full of the fruit; and they are sold at the price of threepence a dozen. When used as bread, it is roasted or boiled before it is quite ripe; and sometimes a roasted plantain is, as it were, buttered with a ripe raw plantain. An English bag-pudding may be made with half a dozen ripe fruit; and, again, plantains sliced and dried in the sun taste like figs, and may be preserved in any climate. Green plantains dried and grated furnish an excellent flour for bread or puddings. The Mosquito Indians squeeze a plantain into a calabash of water and drink it: they call it mishlaw, and it resembles lambs'-wool made of apples and ale. It drinks brisk and cool, and is very pleasant." Such was the plantain two centuries ago.

The Sultan of Mindanao received the strangers with favor, and would gladly have induced them to settle upon the island and form the nucleus of an English trading station. Dampier would have remained, but the majority were against him. After a time, a mutiny broke out,—the principal cause being the want of active employment; and, as Captain Swan manifested no energy or address in quelling it, he and thirty-six men were left at Mindanao, the rest escaping with the ship. Dampier here remarks that they had buried sixteen men upon the island, who had died by poison,—the natives revenging the slightest dalliance with their women with a deadly, though lingering, dose or potion. Some of the mutineers that ran off with the vessel died of poison administered at Mindanao four months afterwards.

Read, the new captain, and Dampier, cruised for some time among the Philippine Islands. At one of these they saw an extraordinary display of surf-bathing on the part of the natives. The art seemed to be practised as well by the women as the men, and children in arms were taught to gambol in the water as if it were their native element, and as if they were born web-footed.

On the 4th of January, 1688, they touched at New Holland,—then known to be a vast tract of land, and by all except the Dutch supposed to be a continent. Here they found a miserable race of people, compared to whom Dampier declares the Hodmapods, though a nasty race, to be gentlemen and Christians. They lived wretchedly on cockles, muscles, and shell-fish. They were tall, straight-bodied, and thin, with small, long limbs. They had bottle noses, big lips, and wide mouths. They held their eyelids half closed, to keep the flies out. Their hair was not long and lank, like that of Indians, but black, short, and curled, like that of negroes. A bit of the rind of a tree and a handful of grass formed their only clothing. The crew landed several times, and brought the natives to some degree of familiarity by giving them a few old clothes; but they could not prevail upon them to assist them in carrying water or any other burden. When the savages found that the ragged jackets and breeches which had been given them were intended to induce them to work, they took them off and laid them down upon the shore.

Dampier was now tired of wandering about the world with this mad crew, none of whom—not even the captain—had any settled purpose or object in view. Read was afraid that Dampier would desert, and when off Sumatra executed a scheme which he hoped would render it impossible. He gave chase to a small sail which was discovered making for Acheen in Sumatra. Taking on board the four Malays who manned her and the cocoanuts with which she was laden, he cut a hole in her bottom and turned her loose. This he did in order to render Dampier and any others who might be disaffected afraid to trust themselves among a people who had been thus robbed and abused. At one of the Nicobar Islands, however, Dampier escaped, and two Englishmen and one Portuguese followed him. The four sailors of Acheen were also put ashore. The whole eight joined company, purchased a canoe, for which they gave an axe in exchange, and set off to row to Acheen. They had not proceeded half a mile before the canoe overset. They swam ashore, dragging the canoe and their chests, and spent three days in making repairs. The Acheenese fitted the canoe with that universal Polynesian apparatus,—an outrigger, or balancer, on each side,—by which capsizing is rendered impossible. They felled a mast in the woods and made a substantial sail with mats. They put off again, following the shore for several days. At length they ventured forth upon the open sea, with one hundred and fifty miles of dangerous navigation before them. They rowed with four oars, taking their turns,—Dampier and Hall, one of the Englishmen, relieving each other at the tiller, none of the rest being able to steer. The current against them was very strong, so that, when looking in front for Sumatra, Nicobar, to their dismay, was still visible behind them. A dense halo round the sun, portending a storm, now caused great anxiety to Dampier. The wind freshened till it blew a gale, and they reefed the sail one-half of its surface. The light bamboo poles supporting the outriggers bent as if they would break; and, if they had broken, the destruction of the boat would have been inevitable. Putting away directly before the wind, they ran off their course for six hours, the outriggers being very much relieved by this change of direction.

Dampier's description of this storm is graphic and quaint. "The sky looked very black," he writes, "being covered with dark clouds. The winds blew hard and the seas ran high. The sea was already roaring in a white foam about us,—a dark night coming on, and no land in sight to shelter us, and our little ark in danger to be swallowed by every wave; and, what was worst of all, none of us thought ourselves prepared for another world. I had been in many eminent dangers before now; but the greatest of them all was but a play-game compared to this. I must confess that I was in great conflicts of mind at this time. Other dangers came not upon me with such a leisurely and dreadful solemnity: a sudden skirmish or engagement or so was nothing when one's blood was up and pushed forward with eager expectations. But here I had a lingering view of approaching death, and little or no hopes of escaping it; and I must confess that my courage, which I had hitherto kept up, failed me here. I had long ago repented me of my roving course of life, but never with such concern as now. I composed my mind as well as I could in the hope of God's assistance; and, as the event showed, I was not disappointed of my hopes."

The preceding representation of the storm is copied from an engraving one hundred and fifty years old, which appeared in the narrative published by Dampier himself. Were it not for this fact, we should not have reproduced it,—as it is very inaccurate, and does not give the outriggers, by which alone the canoe was maintained afloat.

About eight o'clock in the morning one of the Malays cried out, Pulo Way, which Dampier and Hall took to be good English, meaning "Pull away." He pointed to the horizon, where land was just appearing in sight. This was the island of Pulo Way, at the northwest end of Sumatra. It lay to the south; and, in order to make it with a strong west wind, "they trimmed their sail no bigger than an apron," and, relying upon their outriggers, made boldly for the shore, which they reached the next morning, the 21st of May. The supposed island turned out to be the Golden Mountain of Sumatra. They landed, and, after being hospitably received by the natives, arrived at Acheen early in June.

At this point the history of Dampier's adventures as a circumnavigator comes properly to an end. He published a narrative of his career, which he dedicated to Charles Montague, President of the Royal Society, and which brought him into favorable notice. His descriptions have been long admired for their graphic force; while his treatises on winds, tides, and currents show a remarkable degree of observation and science for that age of the world. His account of the Philippine Islands and of New Holland is still printed complete in the numerous collections of voyages that are constantly thrown off by the English and Continental presses. Such was the remarkable career of a man who, though without the ferocity and barbarous habits of the buccaneers, was in every sense of the word a pirate and a freebooter. We shall shortly have occasion to mention him again.

We must now refer to another species of piracy,—privateering. This did not enjoy the same repute as in the days of Drake and Hawkins; but several circumstances conspired to render it a calling permissible, if not legitimate. England and France were at war; and private armed vessels, bearing commissions from James II. and William III. against the French, roved the seas and robbed all defenceless ships which fell in their way. They attacked even the vessels of Great Britain, and from privateers became pirates. Many of the Colonial Atlantic ports of America received them and shared in their spoils. Fletcher, the Governor of New York, was bribed to befriend and protect them, while the officers under him were regular contributors to the funds with which corsairs were bought and equipped.

The English Government determined to suppress this nefarious practice, and removed Fletcher in 1695, sending the Earl of Bellamont to replace him. The latter suggested that a frigate be fitted out to assist him in the attempt; but England could spare none of her naval force from the war with France. A proposition, however, to purchase and arm a private ship for the service was received with favor, and several nobles, together with Bellamont and Colonel Richard Livingston, of New York, contributed a fund of six thousand pounds sterling. Livingston recommended, to command the vessel, one William Kidd, who had been captain of a merchant-vessel sailing between London and New York, and of a privateer against the French. Kidd was placed in command, and Livingston became his security for the share he agreed to contribute,—six hundred pounds sterling. To give character to the enterprise, a commission was issued under the great seal of England and signed by the king, William III., directed to "the trusty and well-beloved Captain Kidd, commander of the ship Adventure Galley." This vessel carried thirty guns and sixty men. Kidd departed from Plymouth in April, 1696, and arrived off the American coast in July following. He occasionally entered the port of New York, where he was cordially received, as he was considered useful in protecting its commerce. For this service the Assembly voted him the sum of two hundred and fifty pounds sterling.

He now added ninety-five men to his crew, who shipped to go to Madagascar in pursuit of pirates. He then sailed for the East Indies, and, while on his way, resolved, possessing as he did a vessel manned and equipped like a frigate, to turn pirate himself. He seems to have found ready listeners in the licentious creatures of whom he had composed his crew. He arrived off the Malabar coast, in Hindostan, where he pillaged vessels manned by Indian, Arab, and Christian crews. He lay in wait for a convoy laden with treasure, but, finding it well guarded, abandoned the attempt. He landed from time to time, burned settlements, murdered and tortured the inhabitants, and placed a price upon the heads of such persons as he thought their friends would ransom. He was once pursued by two Portuguese men-of-war, whom he fought and then contrived to elude. He captured a merchantman named the Quedagh, and, refusing the offered ransom of thirty thousand rupees, sold her and her cargo at a pirates' rendezvous for forty thousand dollars. He exchanged the Adventure for a larger vessel, and established himself at Madagascar. Here he lay in ambush, plundering the flags of every nation. He made himself dreaded, as a bloody, cruel, and remorseless bandit, from Malabar and the Red Sea across the Atlantic to the West Indies and the American coast. He arrived at New York in 1698, laden, it is asserted, with more spoil than ever fell to the lot of any other individual. He found Bellamont Governor in place of Fletcher, and deemed it necessary to conceal his treasures. He sailed along the shore of Long Island as far as Gardiner's Island, at the eastern end. He here disembarked, and, in the presence of Mr. John Gardiner, the owner of the island, whom he placed under the most solemn injunction to secrecy, buried a quantity of gold, silver, and precious stones.

After satisfying his crew by such a division of the remainder as they considered equitable, he dismissed them, and had the audacity to appear in the streets of Boston in the dress of a gentleman of leisure. Bellamont, who was Governor of Massachusetts and New Hampshire as well as of New York, met him, caused his arrest, and sent him to England for trial. He was arraigned for the murder of the gunner of his ship, whom he had killed with a bucket. Being convicted, he was hung in chains at Execution Dock on the 12th of May, 1701. The ballad which was written upon his death has survived, and is a favorable specimen of doggerel versification. We subjoin the most striking stanzas:

My name was William Kidd when I sail'd, when I sail'd;
My name was William Kidd when I sail'd;

My name was William Kidd, God's laws I did forbid,
And so wickedly I did, when I sail'd.

I cursed my father dear when I sail'd, when I sail'd;
I cursed my father dear when I sail'd;

I cursed my father dear, and her that did me bear,
And so wickedly did swear, when I sail'd.

I'd a Bible in my hand when I sail'd, when I sail'd;
I'd a Bible in my hand when I sail'd;

I'd a Bible in my hand, by my father's great command,
And I sunk it in the sand, when I sail'd.

I murder'd William Moore as I sail'd, as I sail'd;
I murder'd William Moore as I sail'd;

I murder'd William Moore, and left him in his gore,
Not many leagues from shore, as I sail'd.

And being cruel still, as I sail'd, as I sail'd,
And being cruel still, as I sail'd,

And being cruel still, my gunner I did kill,
And his precious blood did spill, as I sail'd.

My mate was sick and died as I sail'd, as I sail'd;
My mate was sick and died as I sail'd;

My mate was sick and died, which me much terrified,
When he call'd me to his bedside, as I sail'd.

And unto me he did say, See me die, see me die;
And unto me he did say, See me die;

And unto me he did say, Take warning now by me,
There comes a reckoning day: you must die.

I thought I was undone, as I sail'd, as I sail'd;
I thought I was undone, as I sail'd;

I thought I was undone, and my wicked glass had run,
But my health did soon return, as I sail'd.

My repentance lasted not as I sail'd, as I sail'd;
My repentance lasted not as I sail'd;

My repentance lasted not; my vows I soon forgot;
Damnation's my just lot, as I sail'd.

I spied three ships of Spain as I sail'd, as I sail'd;
I spied three ships of Spain as I sail'd;

I spied three ships of Spain, I fired on them amain,
Till most of them were slain, as I sail'd.

I'd ninety bars of gold as I sail'd, as I sail'd;
I'd ninety bars of gold as I sail'd;

I'd ninety bars of gold, and dollars manifold,
With riches uncontroll'd, as I sail'd.

Then fourteen ships I saw as I sail'd, as I sail'd;
Then fourteen ships I saw as I sail'd;

Then fourteen ships I saw, and brave men they were,
Ah, they were too much for me, as I sail'd.

Thus being o'ertaken at last, I must die, I must die;
Thus being o'ertaken at last, I must die;

Thus being o'ertaken at last, and into prison cast,
And sentence being pass'd, I must die.

Farewell the raging sea, I must die, I must die;
Farewell the raging main, I must die;

Farewell the raging main, to Turkey, France, and Spain,
I shall ne'er see you again: I must die.

To Newgate now I'm cast, and must die, and must die;
To Newgate now I'm cast, and must die;

To Newgate now I'm cast, with a sad and heavy heart,
To receive my just desert: I must die.

To Execution Dock I must go, I must go;
To Execution Dock I must go;

To Execution Dock will many thousands flock,
But I must bear the shock: I must die.

Come, all you young and old, see me die, see me die;
Come, all you young and old, see me die;

Come, all you young and old, you're welcome to my gold,
For by it I've lost my soul, and must die.

Bellamont, having in some way learned that treasure had been concealed upon Gardiner's Island, sent commissioners to secure it. They found a box containing seven hundred and thirty-eight ounces of gold, eight hundred and forty-seven ounces of silver, a bag of silver rings, a bag of unpolished stones, a quantity of agates, amethysts, and silver buttons. For this they gave a receipt to Mr. Gardiner, which is still preserved by the family. Other sums were discovered at various periods in the possession of persons who had had relations with Kidd; but the soil of Long Island never yielded up any other booty than the box which we have mentioned.

It was natural that the knowledge that Kidd had buried a portion of his spoil, that his companions had shared his good fortune according to their rank, that the vicinity of New York was the rendezvous of pirates for years,—it was natural that this knowledge should induce the prevalent belief that it was the custom among them thus to conceal their booty, and that the spot chosen by Kidd was, perhaps, the scene of the deposits of the entire gang. It was evident, too, that, unless rumor had greatly exaggerated the value of Kidd's ill-gotten gains, the box of gold and silver reckoned in ounces was but a tithe of what he had buried. It was thus that was created that feverish excitement which stimulated eager searchers for piratical store along the coasts of New York and Massachusetts, and particularly among the islets of the Sound. This search has been again and again renewed, and even now, at the distance of a century and a half, the hope of discovering the abandoned wealth of the great pirate is not altogether extinct.

Romances, ballads, and tales without number have been written upon the adventures of Captain Kidd, his fate, and his money. The most remarkable of these is the "Gold-Bug" of Edgar A. Poe, which details the incidents of an imaginary effort made to recover the treasure the corsair had entombed.

Piracy did not disappear with Kidd. The coasts of the Carolinas were for a long time infested with freebooters, though at various times some fifty of them were hung in Charleston. In 1717, the famous and dreaded privateer Whidah was wrecked upon the shores of Cape Cod. This vessel carried twenty-three guns, one hundred and thirty men, and was commanded by Samuel Bellamy. The dead bodies of all but six floated ashore: these six were taken alive and executed. This was a severe loss to the pirates. But the decisive blow against them was not struck till 1723. The British man-of-war Greyhound captured a craft with twenty-five men and carried them into Rhode Island. They were tried, found guilty, and hung, at Newport, in July. This was the end of piracy in the American waters.