University of Virginia Library

LETTER IX.

The weather on the third day was fair, and the
wind favorable. The ship was under weigh, and
the spars were whitened with canvass at a single
order. The proprietor of the Island saw her with
pleasure, when she doubled the point to get out of
the bay, and put before the wind in the direction
of Montaug.

The infant trade of the colonies, and indeed all
the navigation of the coast, had been endangered
by other pirates besides this noted freebooter. Barbarous
cruelties, and some shocking and unprovoked
murders upon the neighboring seas, had been
committed, and the colonies, particularly Massachusetts,
had fitted out a few vessels to protect their
trade, and if possible, capture the pirates. Dudley,
who was considered an officer of much promise,
had been lately promoted to the command of the
Martyr sloop of war, and sent on this service He
had obtained an accurate description of the Quedah,
and overhauled every sail he saw, in hopes of falling
in with this noted pirate. Kidd was still in
sight of land, when he made out the Martyr, and
bore down for her, in expectation of finding a merchant

vessel. He was soon undeceived by her
size and appearance, and most of all, by her standing
directly for him, though the wind was in the
wrong quarter. He called to Bolton—“What say
—shall we fight for the fun of it, when there's nothing
to get? There's nothing but Spartan coin,
by the looks—there's no glory to be got. That
fellow,” pointing to the vessel, “would be afraid
to run. Damn it, Bolton, I dare do any thing,
fight or run;—what say?”

“Just as your stomach is,” said Bolton, shipping
a large quid of pigtail aboard his mouth, “but in
three hours sailing, you'll be overhauled.”

“Quarters, then,—beat to quarters; but pack
all sail, put her before the wind. Helm a-port—
steady there, hold her at that.” A few gratuitous
curses, by way of emphasis, garnished the order.

Discipline was Kidd's creed, and he supposed it
was brought about only in one method. The cat
o'nine tails had been freely used that very morning;
the yard arm was handy, and the plank lay in the
gangway, ready at a word to be run out from the
vessel's side. At every springing of this dreadful
trap, a living corpse was heard to plunge, and cries
for help, to come with the wind, till the speed of
the ship left them behind.

Kidd now put his crew to every various and rapid
service, which is suddenly required in preparing
for flight and battle at the same time. Different
orders were given in the same breath. which
were sometimes misunderstood, and sometimes, to
his critical eye, too slightly and negligently executed.
His orders had at first some few words of
intelligible English, mixed here and there among
his oaths; but he soon confined himself to his vocabulary
of profanity, which he fairly exhausted
more than once in French, Dutch and English.

He soon saw that a battle was inevitable; for the
Quedah from a long voyage, was not in so good
sailing order as the vessel in pursuit, which was fast
coming up.

“I did not care enough whether I fought or run,
to make up my mind about it,” said he to Bolton,
as he suddenly assumed an air of perfect composure,
“but I think we shall be saved the trouble of
a council of war on that point. We must take in
sail and clear for action, after the men have had
their fighting rations. Let the Quarter Master
bring some this way, that I may have a word over
a social glass with you Mr. Bolton. I like this
chance of a battle, if it was only as an apology
for drinking; though you may say I'm not difficult
about excuses. But, Bolton, to be serious, we must
be prepared, you know, for the worst; and be the
chance of our being taken what it may, there shall
be none of our being betrayed.”

A conversation succeeded in a tone low, but
earnest in which nothing could be distinguished,
except at intervals, such words—the prisoner—the
plank—he knows all and it can't be helped—dead
men tell no tales, &c.

The result was soon known. Without ceremony,
or even a public declaration of the design, a
few men were despatched for the unhappy object
of Kidd's suspicions, who brought the victim upon
deck, struggling and reluctant, with his eyes bound,
though his hands were free. He was led along the
plank, which projected over the sides of the gangway,
and which was cut from its slight lashing, so
that he dropped in the water, and was left in the
wake of the vessel.

There was carelessly seated on the deck of the
Martyr, a young, and what ladies would call a
handsome looking man, with a spy glass in his

hand, which he happened at this moment to apply
to his eye. I cannot stop, as the manner of some
is, to tell how he looked, how his hat had fallen
from his head, and left it with no other covering
than thick dark curls of chesnut hair, which the
wind stirred from his high fair forehead, nor of the
form that graced the rude ground-work of the quater
deck. I must be, if possible, as rapid in my
narration, as he was in his action, when his accidental
glance, assisted by the spy glass, rested on
that sight of horror which I have just described.
The fair readers of this time-worn manuscript must
pardon me, if I leave them to conjecture how he
looked, when he sprang on his feet and with a freedom
of language which in those pure days, even
the profession of a seaman did not allow, exclaimed,
“Good God! they've murdered a man—away,
there, to his help!”

The hoarse voice of the boatswain was heard
above the busy hum of the ship's crew “away,
there—you first cutters, away!” and the hint was
taken by the boat's crew, who, headed by an
officer, were over the vessel's side, and seated at
their own oars with the activity of a flock of Mother
Cary's chickens.

The speed of manual exertion is no where shown
to more advantage, than on board a vessel of war.

“Pull, pull,” said the officer, as he stood in the
stern with the tiller in his hand. A shot from the
Quedah went so near his head, that he could tell
from the scream that there was a flaw in the bullet.
“Ah we shall engage in a minute—pull, pull
away.”

The men sprang to their oars for the floating
victim. The long ridges of the ocean wave were
dashing over him, and in his drowning ears, “deep
answered unto deep.” He had pulled the baudage

from his eyes, and it now hung loose about his neck,
so that he saw the effort for his relief, and was struggling
with the exertion of a spent swimmer to
whom hope had given preternatural power, when
the barge was sweeping by him, and the man in
the bow caught the handkerchief round his neck
with a boat hook. The oars stopped, and the boat,
with the body along side, drove through the water
with the headway already acquired. The man was
exhausted and lifeless to all appearance, when they
took him on board and put about for the ship. By
this time, the vessels were so near, that some shots
had already been exchanged, and an engagement
was certain.

It is said that the silent moment, before the “grim
ridges of war” join in the conflict, is dreadful; and
occasion has been taken, by the great captains of
antiquity, to address their armies in speeches

and this practice, as to the length of the speeches,
has been improved upon in modern times, as indeed
all sorts of speech-making has been.

Upon this occasion, the prefatory words were
few and unpremeditated.

“Bolton.” said Kidd, “we must fight, but he'll be
sorry, for damn him, if he had been worth taking,
I'd have done it an hour ago. Haul up the courses
and bring her to. My boys, we must sink her directly.
We can't be taken—that's out of the question.
Those of you, who'd rather die like heroes
than be hung for pirates at Execution Dock, let's
know by three cheers.” Three cheers were given,
and the ship was ready for action.

The Martyr, now certain of bringing her adversary
to action, was holding on under full sail. The

commander had directed a shot or two to ascertain
the distance, till he saw the move of the Quedah
for action, when he gave the order, to call all hands.
At the shrill whistle of the boatswain, the deck was
filled with men, who came, some from aloft, and
some from below. The officer stepped forward
and inclined his head,—every hat was off, and every
eye on him.

“My lads,” said he, “I shall keep you but a
moment from your duty. See that inhuman wretch
—'tis Robert Kidd, the devil has deserted him at
last, and Providence has delivered him into our
hands—the victory is our's. Now to your quarters
and wait the word.”

“Where shall I lay her,” said the sailing-master.

“Oh! Mr. Cochlin,” said Dudley, “I forgot
that; lay her along side, at pistol shot. Mr. Endicott,
be ready to lead away the boarders.”

The sides of the Quedah had smoked and blazed
with repeated discharges of her guns, which did
some damage before Dudley neared his distance,
and gave the word to fire. Both ships were instantly
involved in smoke. The distance was so
small, that musketry was used from the tops, and
the decks of both vessels. Few battles have been
more desperately fought. Dudley was resolved to
capture, and Kidd, not to be taken. The Martyr was
constantly nearing the Quedah; the fluke of her
anchor caught in one of the Quedah's port-holes,
and Dudley sprang forward, calling on the boarders,
and heading them himself. To gain the
Quedah's deck would have been no easy matter;
but it happened that Kidd had been stunned by a
splinter, and Bolton was killed out-right.

The boarders cleared the decks of the pirate.
They were found slippery with blood, and strewed
with the dead and the dying. The men ceased to

fight when Kidd fell, for they apprehended little
danger from capture, as many of them had been
compelled into the pirate's service, and wished an
opportunity to leave it. This was understood, and
they experienced as kind treatment as they hoped
for. The Martyr was dreadfully injured, and lost
many of her men; but the Quedah was sinking.

The prisoners, with every thing valuable which
could be removed, were immediately conveyed to
the other ship, which lay along side. Dudley gave
orders to fall off, leaving a boat's crew to set fire
to the prize, and leave her. Kidd, who had been
brought to, was conveyed, with the survivors of his
crew, on board the Martyr; strict attention was
paid to the wounded of both parties; the sloop of
war repaired as well as possible for immediate sailing;
and the sad service of burying the dead, at
which the captain is always present, Dudley deferred
to the next day, in hope that he might possibly
arrive in port before that mournful office would
be necessary.