The Life of NICHOLAS GILBURN, a Most Notorious Highwayman

This unfortunate person was born at Ballingary, near Limerick, in the

west of Ireland, of parents in very tolerable circumstances, who gave

him a very good education; but perceiving that he had a martial

disposition, they resolved not to cross it, and therefore, though he was

not above fourteen years of age, got him recommended to an officer, who

received him as a dragoon. He served about four years with a very good

reputation in the army; but he had a brother who then rode in a regiment

of horse, who wrote to him from London, and encouraged him to come over

into England, which occasioned his writing to his officer to desire his

discharge. To this his officer readily agreed.

He went thereupon from the north of Ireland to the west, to his friend,

where having equipped himself with clothing, linen and other

necessaries, he then came to London, expecting to meet his brother. But

on his arrival here he was disappointed, and that disappointment,

together with his want of money, made him very uneasy. At last, in order

to procure bread, he resolved to list himself in the Foot Guards. He did

so, and continued in them for about two years, during which time, he

says in his dying declaration, that he did duty as well, and appeared as

clean as any man in the company; nay, in all that time, he avers that he

never neglected his guard but once, which was very fatal to him, for it

brought him into the acquaintance of those who betrayed him to measures

which cost him his life. For being taken up and carried to the Savoy for

the afore-mentioned offence, he had not been long in prison before

Wilson, who had been concerned with Burnworth, _alias_ Frazier, and the

rest in the murder of Mr. Ball in the Mint; and one Mr. G----, an old

highwayman, though he had never conversed with him before, came to pay

him a visit.

They treated him both with meat and drink, seemed to commiserate his

condition very much, and promised him that he should not want

twelvepence a day, during the time in confinement. This promise was very

well kept, and Gilburn in a few days obtained his liberty. The next day

he met Wilson in St. James's Park, who after complimenting him upon his

happy deliverance, invited him to a house in Spring Gardens to drink and

make merry together. Gilburn readily consented, and after discoursing of

courage, want of money, the miseries of poverty, and some other

preparatory articles, Wilson parted with him for that time, appointing

another meeting with him at eleven o'clock the next morning. There

Wilson pursued his former topic, and at last told him plainly that the

best and shortest method to relieve their wants was to go on the

highway; and when he had once made this step, he scrupled not to make a

further, telling Gilburn that there was no such danger in those

practices as was generally apprehended, for that with a little care and

circumspection the gallows might be well enough avoided, which he said

was plain enough from his own adventures, since he had lived several

years in the profession, and by being cautious enough to look about him,

had escaped any confinement.

Gilburn heard this account with terror. He had never committed anything

of this kind hitherto, and knew very well that if he once engaged he

could never afterwards go back. Wilson seemed not at all uneasy at his

pause, but artfully introducing discourse on other subjects, plied him

in the meanwhile with liquor, until he saw him pretty warm, and then

resumed the story of his own adventures and of the facility of acquiring

money when a man is but well stored with courage and has ever so little

conduct. This artifice unfortunately had its effect, Wilson's

conversation and the fumes of liquor prevailing so far upon Gilburn

that, as he himself phrased it, he resolved at last upon business.

The day following, Gilburn provided himself with pistols, and removed

his quarters to go and live with Wilson, who encouraged him with all the

arguments he was able to stick to his new profession, and Gilburn in

return swore he would live and die with him. So at night they went out

together in quest of adventures. The road they took was towards

Paddington. A little after they were come into the fields, they attacked

a gentleman and took from him eight shillings, with which Gilburn was

very much pleased, though they had little luck after, so that they

returned at last to their lodgings, weary and fatigued, and were obliged

to mount guard the next morning. When their guard was over, they were,

as Mr. Gilburn expresses it in his last speech, as bare as a bird's

arse, so no time was to be lost, and accordingly that very night they

made their second expedition. Nobody coming in their way, Gilburn began

to fret, and at last falling into a downright passion, swore he would

rob the first man he met. He was as good as his word, and the booty he

got proved a tolerable provision for some days.

But guard-day drawing nigh again, Wilson told him there was no mounting

without money, and the same methods were taken as formerly; but as the

leagues by which men are united in villainy are liable to a thousand

inconveniencies which are uneasily born, and yet hard to be remedied, so

Wilson's humours being very different from that of Gilburn, they soon

began to differ about the money they acquired by plunder. At last,

coming one night very much tired and fatigued to a public-house where

Wilson was acquainted, they called for some drink to refresh themselves,

which when they had done, Gilburn was for dividing the money, himself

standing in need of linen and other necessaries. Wilson, on the other

hand, was for having a bowl of punch, and words thereupon arose to such

a height that at last they fell to fighting. This quarrel was

irreconcilable, and they absolutely parted company, though Gilburn

unfortunately pursued the same road; and having robbed a gentleman on

horseback of several yards of fine padusoy, he was shortly after

apprehended and committed to Newgate.

At first he absolutely denied the fact, but when he was convicted, and

saw no hopes of pardon, he acknowledged what had been sworn against him

by the prosecutor to be true, attended with much gravity at chapel, and

seemed to be greatly afflicted through a due sense of those many sins

which he had committed. Wilson, his companion, had a little before been

executed at Kingston, and Gilburn with all outward signs of contrition,

suffered the same death at Tyburn, at the same time with the

before-mentioned malefactor, being at the time of his death about

twenty-two years of age.

The Lives of JAMES O'BRYAN, HUGH MORRIS and ROBERT JOHNSON, Highwaymen

and Street-Robbers

Amongst the many flagrant vices of the present age, there is none more

remarkable than the strange property we see in young people to commit

the most notorious crimes, provided they may thereby furnish themselves

with money enough to support their lavish expenses in vices which in

former times were scarce heard of by lads of that age, at which our

boldest highwaymen begin to exert themselves now.

The first of these unfortunate lads, James O'Bryan, was born at Dublin,

was brought over hither young, and had a good education given him which

he had very little inclination to make a proper use of. Nothing could

persuade him to go out to a trade; on the contrary, he pretended he

would apply himself to his father's employment, which was that of a

plasterer. But as working was required, he soon grew out of humour with

it, and addicted himself wholly to strolling about the streets with such

wicked lads as himself, and so was easily drawn in to think of supplying

himself with money by the plunder of honest people, in order to carry on

those debaucheries in which, though a lad, he was already deeply

immersed.

Women, forsooth, drew this spark away from the paths of virtue and

goodness at about sixteen years old, after which time he lost all sense

of duty to his parents, respect of laws divine or human, and even care

of himself. It seems he found certain houses in Chick Lane, where they

met abundance of loose young men and women, accustomed themselves to

every kind of debauchery which it was possible for wicked people to

commit or the most fruitful genius to invent. Here he fell into the

company of his two companions, Morris and Johnson.

The first of these was the son of an unfortunate tradesman who had once

kept a great shop, and lived in good reputation in the Strand, but

through the common calamities of life, he was so unfortunate as to

break, and laying it too much to heart, died soon after it, happy,

however, in one thing, that he did not live to see the deplorable end of

his son by the hand of justice.

Robert Johnson was the son of honest parents, and had a very good

education, but put it to a very ill use; for having all his life time

been addicted to pilfering and thieving, at last he fell into the

company of these unfortunate young men who led him a directer way to the

gallows than perhaps he might have found himself. One of his chief

inducements to forfeit reputation and hazard life by engaging in street

robberies, was his commencing an amour with his father's servant-maid,

and not long after falling into a multitude of such like adventures, the

ready road to inevitable ruin.

These three sparks, together with Bernard Fink, and another person who

turned evidence against them, came all at the same time to a resolution

of attacking people in the streets; and having provided themselves with

pistols and whatever else they thought necessary for putting their

design in execution, they immediately set about it, and though but boys,

committed bolder and more numerous robberies than had ever hitherto been

heard of. It may, indeed, seem surprising that lads of their age should

be able to intimidate passengers, but when it is considered that having

less precaution than older rogues, they were more ready at firing

pistols or otherwise injuring those whom they attacked, than any set of

fellows who had hitherto disturbed the crown, this wonder will wear off.

It was not above two months that they continued their depredations, but

in that time they had been exceedingly busy, and had committed a

multitude of facts. One gentleman whom they attacked in Lincoln's Inn

Fields, refused to surrender, and drew his sword upon Morris. That young

robber immediately fired his pistol, and the rest coming to his

assistance, the gentleman thought it but prudent to retire, the noise

they made having alarmed the watch and so prevented his losing anything.

After this it became a very common practice with them, as soon as they

stopped anybody, to clap a pistol under their nose, and bid them smell

at it, while one of their companions, with a thousand execrations,

threatened to blow their brains out if they made the least resistance.

As soon as the business of the night was over, they immediately

adjourned to their places of rendezvous at Chick Lane, or to other

houses of the same stamp elsewhere, and without the least consideration

of the hazards they had run, squandered the wages of their villainies

upon such impudent strumpets as for the lucre of a few shillings

prostituted themselves to them in these debaucheries.

Mr. O'Bryan was the hero of this troop of infant robbers; he valued

himself much on never meddling with small matters or committing any

meaner crime than that of the highway. It happened he had a mistress

coming out of the country and he would needs have his companions take

each of them a doxy and go with him as far as Windsor to receive her.

They readily complied, and at Windsor they were all seized and from

thence brought to town, two of their own gang turning evidence, so that

on the clearest proof, they were all three convicted.

Under sentence of death they behaved with great audacity, seemed to

value themselves on the crimes they had committed, caused several

disturbances at chapel and discovered little or no sense of that

miserable condition in which they were. O'Bryan died a Papist, and in

the cart read with great earnestness a book of devotions in that way. He

wrote a letter to his father the day before he died, and also something

which he called verses to his sister, both of which I have subjoined

_verbatim_ that my readers may have the better idea of the capacity of

those poor creatures.

To Mr. Terrance O'Bryan, living in Burleigh Street in the Strand.

Honoured Father and Mother,

The uneasiness I give you is more terror to me than the thoughts of

death, but pray make yourselves as easy as you can, for I hope I am

going to a better place; for God is my refuge and my strength, and

my helper in time of tribulation, and pray take care of my brother

now whilst he is young, and make him serve God, and keep him out of

bad company. If I had served God as I ought to have done, and kept

out of bad company, I had not come to this unhappy misfortune, but I

hope it is for the good of my soul, it is good I hope what God has

at present ordained for me, for there is mercy in the foresight of

death, and in the time God has given me to prepare for it. A natural

death might have had less terror, for in that I might have wanted

many advantages which are now granted me. My trust is in God, and I

hope he won't reward me according to my deserts. All that I can

suffer here must have an end, for this life is short, so are all the

sufferings of it, but the next life is Eternal. Pray give my love to

my sister, and desire her not to neglect her duty to God. I hope

you are all well, as I am at present, I thank God. So no more at

present.

From your unhappy and undutiful son,

James O'Bryan.

The verses sent by James O'Bryan to his sister two days before his

execution:

My loving tender sister dear,

From you I soon must part I fear.

Think not on my wretched state,

Nor grieve for my unhappy fate,

But serve the Lord with all your heart,

And from you He'll never part.

When I am dead and in my tomb,

For my poor soul I hope there's room,

In Heaven with God above on high,

I hope to live eternally.

At the time of their execution James O'Bryan was about twenty, Hugh

Morris seventeen, and Robert Johnson not full twenty years of age, which

was on the 16th of November, 1730.

The History of the Life and surprising adventures of JOHN GOW, _alias_

SMITH, a most notorious Pirate and Murderer

The principal use to which a work of this nature can be applied is to

engage persons to refuse the first stirrings of their passions, and the

slighted emotions of vice in their breasts, since they see before their

eyes so many sad examples of the fatal consequences which follow upon

rash and wicked enterprises, of which the following history exhibits as

extraordinary an instance as perhaps is anythere to be found.

In giving an account of this malefactor, we are obliged to begin with

his embarking on board the vessel which he afterwards seized and went

a-pirating in. It was called the _George_ galley, and was of about two

hundred tons burden, commanded by Oliver Ferneau, a Frenchman, but a

subject of the Crown of England, who entertained this Gow as a private

seaman only, but afterwards, to his great misfortune, preferred him to

be the second mate in the voyage of which we are next to speak.

Captain Ferneau being a man of reputation among the merchants of

Amsterdam, got a voyage for his ship from thence to Santa Cruz on the

coast of Barbary, to load beeswax, and to carry it to Genoa, which was

his delivering port; and as the Dutch, having war with the Turks of

Algiers, were willing to employ him as an English ship, so he was as

willing to be manned with English seamen, and accordingly among the

rest, he unhappily took on board this Gow with his wretched gang, such

as MacCauly, Melvin, Williams and others. But not being able to man

themselves wholly with English or Scots, he was obliged to take some

Swedes, and other seamen to make his complement, which was twenty-three

in all. Among the latter sort, one was named Winter, and another

Peterson, both of them Swedes by nation, but wicked as Gow and his other

fellows were. They sailed from the Texel in the month of August, 1724,

and arrived at Santa Cruz on the second of September following, where

having a super-cargo on board, who took charge of the loading, and four

chests of money to purchase it, they soon got the beeswax, on board, and

on the third of November they appointed to set sail to pursue the

voyage.

That day the ship having lain two months in the road at Santa Cruz,

taking in her lading, the captain made preparations to put to sea, and

the usual signals for sailing having been given, some of the merchants

from on shore, who had been concerned in furnishing the cargo, came on

board in the forenoon to take their leave of the captain, and wish him a

good voyage, as is usual on such occasions. Whether it was concerted by

the whole gang beforehand, we know not, but while the captain was

treating and entertaining the merchants under the awning upon the

quarter deck, as is the custom in those hot countries, three of the

seamen, viz., Winter and Peterson, two Swedes, and MacCauly a Scotchman,

came rudely upon the quarter deck as if they took the opportunity

because the merchants were present, believing the captain would not use

any violence with them in the presence of the merchants.

They made a long complaint of all their ill-usage, and particularly of

their provisions and allowance, as they said, being not sufficient nor

such as was ordinarily made in other merchant ships, seeming to load the

captain, Monsieur Ferneau, with being the occasion of it, and that he

did it for his private gain, which however had not been true. If the

fact had been true, the overplus of provisions (if the stores had been

more than sufficient) belonged to the owners, not to the captain, at the

end of the voyage, there being also a steward on board to take the

account. In making this complaint they seemed to direct their speech to

the merchants as well as to the captain, as if they had been concerned

in the ship, or as if desiring them to intercede for them with the

captain, that they might have redress and a better allowance.

The captain was highly provoked at this rudeness, as indeed he had

reason, it being a double affront to him as it was done in the view of

the merchants who were come on board to him, to do him an honour at

parting. However, he restrained his passion, and gave them not the least

angry word, only that if they were aggrieved they had no more to do but

to let him have know of it; that if they were ill-used it was not by his

order that he would enquire into it and if anything was amiss it should

be rectified, with which the seamen withdrew, seemingly well satisfied

with his answer.

About five the same evening they unmoored the ship and hove short upon

their best bower anchor, awaiting the land breeze (as is usual on that

coast) to carry them out to sea; but instead of that, it fell stark

calm, and the captain fearing the ship would fall foul of her own

anchor, ordered the mizen top-sail to be furled. Peterson, one of the

malcontent seamen, being the nearest man at hand seemed to go about it,

but moved so carelessly and heavily that it appeared plainly he did not

care whether it was done or no, and particularly as if he had a mind the

captain should see it and take notice of it. Which the captain did, for

perceiving how awkwardly he went about it, he spoke a little tartly to

him, and asked him what was the reason he did not stir a little and furl

the sail. Peterson, as if he had waited for the question, answered in a

surly tone, and with a kind of disdain, _So as we eat, so shall we

work._ This he spoke aloud, so that he might be sure the captain heard

him and the rest of the men also, and it was evident that as he spoke in

plural numbers, _We_, so he spoke their minds as well as his own, and

words which they all agreed to before.

The captain, however, though he heard plain enough what he said, took

not the least notice of it, or gave him the least reason to believe he

had heard him, being not willing to begin a quarrel with the men and

knowing that if he took any notice at all of it, he must resent it and

punish it too.

Soon after this, the calm went off, and the land breeze sprang up, and

they immediately weighed and stood out to sea; but the captain having

had these two bustles with his men just at their putting to sea, was

very uneasy in his mind, as indeed he had reason to be; and the same

evening, soon after they were under sail, the mate being walking on the

quarter deck, he went, and taking two or three turns with him, told him

how he had been used by the men, particularly how they affronted him

before the merchants, and what an answer Peterson had given him on the

quarter deck, when he ordered him to furl the mizen top sail. The mate

was as surprised at these things as the captain, and after some other

discourse about it, in which it was their unhappiness not to be so

private as they ought to have been in a case of such importance, the

captain told him he thought it was absolutely necessary to have a

quantity of small arms brought immediately into the great cabin, not

only to defend themselves if there should be occasion, but also that he

might be in a posture to correct those fellows for their insolence,

especially should he meet with any more of it. The mate agreed that it

was necessary to be done, and had they said no more, or said this more

privately, all had been well, and the wicked design had been much more

difficult, if not the execution of it effectually prevented.

But two mistakes in this part was the ruin of them all. First, that the

captain spoke it without due caution, so that Winter and Peterson, the

two principal malcontents, who were expressly mentioned by the captain

to be corrected, overheard it, and knew by that means what they had to

expect if they did not immediately bestir themselves to prevent it. The

other mistake was that when the captain and mate agreed that it was

necessary to have arms got ready, and brought into the great cabin, the

captain unhappily bid him go immediately to Gow, the second mate and

gunner, and give him orders to get the arms cleared and loaded for him,

and to bring them up to the great cabin; which was in short to tell the

conspirators that the captain was preparing to be too strong for them,

if they did not fall to work with him immediately.

Winter and Peterson went immediately forward, where they knew the rest

of the mutineers were, and to whom they communicated what they had

heard, telling them that it was time to provide for their own safety,

for otherwise their destruction was resolved on, and the captain would

soon be in such a posture that there would be no muddling with him.

While they were thus consulting, as they said, only for their own

safety, Gow and Williams came into them with some others to the number

of eight, and no sooner were they joined by these two, but they fell

downright to the point which Gow had so long formed in his own mind,

viz., to seize upon the captain and mate, and all those that they could

not bring to join with them; in short, to throw them into the sea, and

to go upon the account. All those who are acquainted with the sea

language know the meaning of that expression, and that it is, in few

words, to run away with the ship and turn pirates.

Villainous designs are soonest concluded; as they had but little time

to consult upon what measures they should take, so very little

consultation served for what was before them, and they came to this

short but hellish resolution, viz., that they would immediately, that

very night, murder the captain and such others as they named, and

afterwards proceed with the ship as they should see cause. And here it

is to be observed that though Winter and Peterson were in the first

proposal, namely to prevent their being brought to correction by the

captain, yet Gow and Williams were the principal advisers in the bloody

part, which however the rest came into soon; for, as I said before, as

they had but little time to resolve in, so they had but very little

debate about it but what was first proposed was forthwith engaged in and

consented to.

It must not be omitted that Gow had always had the wicked game of

pirating in his head, and that he had attempted it, or rather tried to

attempt it before, but was not able to bring it to pass; so he and

Williams had also several times, even in this very voyage, dropped some

hints of this vile design, as they thought there was room for it, and

touched two or three times at what a noble opportunity they had of

enriching themselves, and making their fortunes, as they wickedly called

it. This was when they had the four chests of money on board and

Williams made it a kind of jest in his discourse, how easily they might

carry it off, ship and all. But as they did not find themselves

seconded, or that any of the men showed themselves in favour of such a

thing, but rather spoke of it with abhorrence they passed it over as a

kind of discourse that had nothing at all in it, except that one of the

men, viz., the surgeon, once took them up short for so much as

mentioning such a thing, told them the thought was criminal and it ought

not to be spoken of among them, which reproof was supposed cost him his

life afterwards.

As Gow and his comrade had thus started the thing at a distance before,

though it was then without success, yet they had the less to do now,

when other discontents had raised a secret fire in the breasts of the

men; for now, being as it were mad and desperate with apprehensions of

their being severely punished by the captain, they wanted no persuasions

to come into the most wicked undertaking that the devil or any of his

angels could propose to them. Nor do we find that upon any of their

examinations they pretended to have made any scruples or objections to

the cruelty of the bloody attempt that was to be made, but came to it at

once, and resolved to put it in execution immediately, that is to say,

the very same evening.

It was the captain's constant custom to call all the ship's company into

the great cabin every night at eight o'clock to prayers, and then the

watch being set, one went upon deck, and the other turned in, or, as

the seamen phrase it, went to their hammocks to sleep; and here they

concerted their devilish plot. It was the turn of five of the

conspirators to go to sleep, and of these Gow and Williams were two. The

three who were to be upon the deck were Winter, Rowlinson, and Melvin, a

Scotchman. The persons they immediately designed for destruction were

four, viz., the captain, the mate, the super-cargo, and the surgeon,

whereof all but the captain were gone to sleep, the captain himself

being upon the quarter deck.

Between nine and ten at night, all being quiet and secure, and the poor

gentlemen that were to be murdered fast asleep, the villains that were

below gave the watch-word, which was, _Who fires next?_ At which they

all got out of their hammocks with as little noise as they could, and

going in the dark to the hammocks of the chief mate, super-cargo and

surgeon, they cut all their throats. The surgeon's throat was cut so

effectually that he could struggle very little with them, but leaping

out of his hammock, ran up to get upon the deck, holding his hand upon

his throat. But be stumbled at the tiller, and falling down had no

breath, and consequently no strength to raise himself, but died where he

lay.

The mate, whose throat was cut but not his windpipe, struggled so

vigorously with the villain who attacked him that he got away from him

and into the hold; and the super-cargo, in the same condition, got

forwards between decks under some deals and both of them begged with the

most moving cries and entreaties for their lives. And when nothing could

prevail, they begged with the same earnestness for but a few moments to

pray to God, and recommend their souls to mercy. But alike in vain, for

the wretched murderers, heated with blood, were past pity, and not being

able to come at them with their knives, with which they had begun the

execution, they shot them with their pistols, firing several times upon

each of them until they found they were quite dead.

As all this, even before the firing, could not be done without some

noise, the captain, who was walking alone upon the quarter-deck, called

out and asked what was the matter. The boatswain, who sat on the after

bits, and was not of the party, answered he could not tell, but he was

afraid there was somebody overboard; upon which the captain stepped

towards the ship's side to look over. Then Winter, Rowlinson and Melvin,

coming that moment behind him, laid hands on him, and lifting him up,

attempted to throw him overboard into the sea; but he being a nimble

strong man, got hold of the shrouds and struggled so hard with them that

they could not break his hold. Turning his head to look behind him to

see who he had to deal with, one of them cut his throat with a broad

Dutch knife; but neither was that wound mortal, for the captain still

struggled with them, and seeing he should undoubtedly be murdered, he

constantly cried up to God for mercy, for he found there was none to be

expected from them. During this struggle, another of the murderers

stabbed him with a knife in the back, and that with such a force that

the villain could not draw the knife out again to repeat his blow, which

he would otherwise have done.

At this moment Gow came up from the butchery he had been at between

decks, and seeing the captain still alive, he went close up to him and

shot him, as he confessed, with a brace of bullets. What part he shot

him in could not be known, though they said he had shot him in the head;

however, he had yet life enough (though they threw him overboard) to

take hold of a rope, and would still have saved himself but they cut

that rope and then he fell into the sea, and was seen no more.

Thus they finished the tragedy, having murdered four of the principal

men in command in the ship, so that there was nobody now to oppose them;

for Gow being second mate and gunner, the command fell to him, of

course, and the rest of the men having no arms ready, not knowing how to

get at any, were in utmost consternation, expecting they would go on

with the work and cut their throats. In this fright everyone shifted for

himself. As for those who were upon deck, some got up in the round tops,

others got into the ship's head, resolving to throw themselves into the

sea rather than be mangled with knives and murdered as the captain and

mate, etc., had been. Those who were below, not knowing what to do, or

whose turn it should be next, lay still in their hammocks expecting

death every moment, and not daring to stir lest the villains should

think they did it in order to make resistance, which however they were

in no way capable of doing, having no concert one with another, not

knowing anything in particular of one another, as who was alive or who

was dead. Had the captain, who was himself a bold and stout man, been in

his great cabin with three or four men with him, and his fire-arms, as

he intended to have had, those eight fellows had never been able to have

done their work. But every man was taken unprovided, and in the utmost

surprise, so that the murderers met with no resistance; and as for those

what were left, they were less able to make resistance than the other,

so that, as has been said, they were in the utmost terror and amazement,

expecting every minute to be murdered as the rest had been.

But the villains had done. The persons who had any command were

dispatched, so they cooled a little as to blood. The first thing they

did afterwards, was to call up all the eight upon the quarter deck,

where they congratulated one another, and shook hands together, engaging

to proceed by joint consent in their resolved design, that is, of

turning pirates. In older to which, they unanimously chose Gow to

command the ship, promising all subjection and obedience to his orders,

so that we must now call him Captain Gow, and he, by the same consent of

the rest, named Williams his lieutenant. Other officers they appointed

afterwards.

The first orders they issued was to let all the rest of the men know

that if they continued quiet and offered not to meddle with any of their

affairs, they should receive no hurt, but chiefly forbade any man to set

a foot abaft the main mast, except they were called to the helm, upon

pain of being immediately cut to pieces, keeping for that purpose one

man at the steerage door, and one upon the quarter deck with drawn

cutlasses in their hands. But there was no need for it, for the men were

so terrified with the bloody doings they had seen, that they never

offered to come in sight until they were called.

Their next work was to throw overboard the three dead bodies of the

mate, the surgeon, and the super-cargo, which they said lay in their

way; that was soon done, their pockets being first searched and rifled.

From thence they went to work with the great cabin and with all the

lockers, chests, boxes and trunks. These they broke open and rifled,

that is, such of them as belonged to the murdered persons, and whatever

they found there they shared among themselves. When they had done this,

they called for liquor, and sat down to drinking until morning, leaving

the men, as above, to keep guard, and particularly to guard the arms,

but relieved them from time to time as they saw occasion.

By this time they had drawn in four more of the men to approve of what

they had done, and promised to join with them, so that now there were

twelve in number, and being but twenty-four at first, whereof four were

murdered, they had but eight men to be apprehensive of, and those they

could easily look after. So the next day, they sent for them all to

appear before their new captain, where they were told by Gow what his

resolution was, viz., to go a-cruising or to go upon the account. If

they were willing to join with them and go into their measures, they

should be well used, and there should be no distinction among them but

they should all fare alike; he said that they had been forced to do what

they had done by the barbarous usage of Ferneau, but that there was now

no looking back; and therefore, as they had not been concerned in what

was past, they had nothing to do but to act in concert, do their duty as

sailors, and obey orders for the good of the ship, and no harm should

come to any of them.

As they all looked like condemned prisoners brought up to the bar to

receive sentence of death, so they all answered by a profound silence,

which Gow took as they meant it, viz, as a consent because they durst

not refuse. So they were then permitted to go up and down everywhere as

they used to do, though such of them as sometimes afterwards showed any

reluctance to act as principals, were never trusted, always suspected

and very often severely beaten. Some of them were in many ways inhumanly

treated and that particularly by Williams, the lieutenant, who was in

his nature a merciless, cruel, and inexorable wretch, as we shall have

occasion to take notice of again in its place.

They were now in a new circumstance of life, and acting upon a different

stage of business, though upon the same stage as to the element, the

water. Before they were a merchant ship, laden upon a good account, with

merchants' goods from the coast of Barbary, and bound to the coast of

Italy; but they were now a crew of pirates, or as they call them in the

Levant, Corsairs, bound nowhere but to look out for purchase and spoil

wherever they could find it. In pursuit of this wicked trade they first

changed the name of the ship, which was before called the _George_

galley, and which they called now the _Revenge_, a name, indeed,

suitable to the bloody steps they had taken. In the next place they made

the best of the ship's forces. The ship had but twelve guns mounted when

they came out of Holland, but as they had six more good guns in the hold

with cartridges and everything proper for service (which they had in

store through being freighted for the Dutch merchants, and the Algerians

being at war with the Dutch), they supposed they might want them for

defence. Now they took care to mount them for a much worse design, so

that now they had eighteen guns, though too many for the number of hands

they had on board. In the third place, instead of pursuing their voyage

to Genoa with the ship's cargo, they took a clear contrary course, and

resolved to station themselves upon the coasts of Spain and Portugal,

and to cruise upon all nations; but what they chiefly aimed at was a

ship with wine, if possible, for that they wanted extremely.

The first prize they took was an English sloop, belonging to Pool,

Thomas Wise commander, bound from Newfoundland with fish for Cadiz. This

was a prize of no value to them, so they took out the master, Mr. Wise

and his men, who were but five in number, with their anchors, cables and

sails, and what else they found worth taking, and sunk the vessel. The

next prize they took was a Scotch vessel, bound from Glasgow with

herrings and salmon from thence to Genoa, and commanded by one Mr. John

Somerville, of Port Patrick. This vessel was likewise of little value to

them, except that they took as they had done from the other, their arms,

ammunition, clothes, provisions, sails, anchors, cables, etc., and

everything of value, and sunk her too as they had done the sloop. The

reason they gave for sinking these two vessels was to prevent their

being discovered, for as they were now cruising on the coast of

Portugal, had they let their ships have gone with several of their men

on board, they would presently have stood in for shore, and have given

the alarm, and the men-of-war, of which there were several, as well

Dutch as English, in the river of Lisbon, would immediately have put out

to sea in quest of them, and they were very unwilling to leave the coast

of Portugal until they had got a ship with wine, which they very much

wanted.

After this they cruised eight or ten days without seeing so much as one

vessel upon the seas, and were just resolving to stand more to the to

the coast of Galicia, when they descried a sail to the southward, being

a ship about as big as their own, though they could not perceive what

force she had. However they gave chase, and the vessel perceiving it,

crowded from them with all the sail they could make, hoisting up French

colours, and standing away to the southward. They continued the chase

three days and nights, and though they did not gain much upon her, the

Frenchman sailing very well, yet they kept her in sight all the while

and for the most part within gunshot. But the third night, the weather

proving a little hazy, the Frenchman changed her course in the night,

and so got clear of them, and good reason they had to bless themselves

in the escape they had made, if they had but known what a dreadful crew

of rogues they had fallen among if they had been taken.

They were now gotten a long way to the southward and being greatly

disappointed, and in want of water as well as wine, they resolved to

stand away for the Madeiras, which they knew were not far off; so they

accordingly made the island in two days more, and keeping a large

offing, they cruised for three or four days more, expecting to meet with

some Portuguese vessel going in or coming out. But it was in vain, for

nothing stirred. So, tired with waiting, they stood in for the road, and

came to anchor, though at a great distance. Then they sent their boat

towards the shore with seven men, all well armed, to see whether it

might not be practicable to board one of the ships in the road, and

cutting her away from her anchors, bring her off; or if they found that

could not be done, then their orders were to intercept some of the

boats belonging to the place, which carry wines on board the ships in

the road, or from one place to another on the coast. But they came back

again disappointed in both, everybody being alarmed and aware of them,

knowing by their posture what they were.

Having thus spent several days to no purpose, and finding themselves

discovered, at last (being apparently under a necessity to make an

attempt somewhere) they stood away for Porto Santo,[102] about ten

leagues to the windward of Madeiras, and belonging also to the

Portuguese. Here putting up British colours, they sent their boat ashore

with Captain Somerville's bill of health, and a present to the governor

of three barrels of salmon, and six barrels of herrings, and a very

civil message, desiring leave to water, and to buy some refreshments,

pretending to be bound to ----.

The Governor very courteously granted their desire, but with more

courtesy than discretion went off himself, with about nine or ten of his

principal people, to pay the English captain a visit, little thinking

what kind of a captain it was they were going to compliment, and what

price it might have cost them. However, Gow, handsomely dressed,

received then with some ceremony, and entertained them tolerably well

for a while. But the Governor having been kept as long by civility as

they could, and the refreshments from the shore not appearing, he was

forced to unmask; and when the Governor and his company rose up to take

their leave, to their great surprise they were suddenly surrounded with

a gang of fellows with muskets, and an officer at the head of them.

These told them, in so many words, they were the captain's prisoners,

and must not think of going on shore any more until the water and

provisions which were promised should come on board.

It is impossible to conceive the consternation and surprise the

Portuguese gentry were in, nor is it very decently to be expressed. The

poor Governor was so much more than half dead with fright that he really

befouled himself in a piteous manner, and the rest were in not much

better condition. They trembled, cried, begged, crossed themselves, and

said their prayers as men going to execution, but it was all one, they

were told flatly that the captain was not to be trifled with, that the

ship was in want of provisions, and they would have them, or they should

carry them all away. They were, however, well enough treated, except for

the restraint of their persons, and were often asked to refresh

themselves; but they would neither eat not drink any more all the while

they stayed on board, which was until the next day in the evening, when

to their great satisfaction they saw a great boat come off from the

fort, and which came directly on board with seven butts of water, a cow

and a calf, and a good number of fowls.

When the boat came alongside and delivered the stores, Captain Gow

complimented the Governor and his gentlemen, and discharged them to

their great joy, and besides that gave them in return for their

provisions two cerons of beeswax, and fired them three guns at their

going away. It is to be supposed they would have a care how they went on

board any ship again, in compliment to their captain, unless they were

very sure who they were. Having had no better success in this out of the

way run to the Madeiras, they resolved to make the best of their way

back again to the coast of Spain and Portugal. They accordingly left

Porto Santo die next morning with a fair wind, standing directly for

Cape St. Vincent or the Southward Cape.

They had not been upon the coast of Spain above two or three days,

before they met with a New England ship, one Cross commander, laden with

slaves, and bound for Lisbon, being to load there with wine for London.

This was also a prize of no value to them, and they began to be very

much discouraged with their bad fortune. However, they took out Captain

Cross and his men, which were seven or eight in number, with most of the

provisions and some of the sails, and gave the ship to Captain Wise, the

poor man whom they took at first in a sloop from Newfoundland; and in

order to pay Wise and his men for what they took from them, and make

them satisfaction, as they called it, they gave to Captain Wise and his

mate twenty-four cerons of wax, and to his men who were four in number,

two cerons of wax each. Thus they pretended honesty, and to make

reparation of damages by giving them the goods which they had robbed the

Dutch merchants of, whose super-cargo they had murdered.

The day before the division of the spoil they saw a large ship to

windward, which at first put them into some surprise, for she came

bearing down directly upon them, and they thought she had been a

Portuguese man-of-war, but they found soon after that it was a merchant

ship, had French colours and bound home, as they supposed from the West

Indies; and so it was, for they afterwards learned that she was laden at

Martinico and bound for Rochelle.

The Frenchmen not fearing them came on large to the wind, being a ship

of much greater force than Gow's ship, carrying thirty-two guns and

eighty men, besides a great many passengers. However, Gow at first made

as if he would lie by for them, but seeing plainly what a ship it was,

and that they should have their hands full of her, he began to consider;

and calling his men together upon the deck, told them what was in his

mind, viz., that the Frenchman was apparently superior in force in every

way; that they were but ill-manned, and had a great many prisoners on

board, and that some of their own people were not very well to be

trusted; that six of their best hands were on board the prize; and that

all they had left were not sufficient to ply their guns and stand by the

sails, and that therefore as they were under no necessity to engage, so

he thought it would be next to madness to think of it.

The generality of the men were of Gow's mind, and agreed to decline the

fight, but Williams, his lieutenant, strenuously opposed it; and being

not to be appeased by all that Gow could say to him, or any one else,

flew out into a rage at Gow, upbraiding him with being a coward, and not

fit to command a ship of force. The truth is, Gow's reasoning was good,

and the thing was just, considering their own condition; but Williams

was a fellow incapable of any solid thinking, had a kind of savage,

brutal courage, but nothing of true bravery in him, and this made him

the most desperate and outrageous villain in the world, and the most

cruel and inhuman to those whose disaster it was to fall into his hands,

as had frequently appeared in his usage of the prisoners under his power

in this very voyage. Gow was a man of temper, and notwithstanding all

the ill-language Williams gave him, said little or nothing but by way of

argument against attacking the French ship, which would certainly have

been too strong for them; but this provoked Williams the more, and he

grew so extraordinary an height, that he demanded boldly of Gow to give

his orders for fighting, which Gow declining still Williams presented

his pistol at him, and snapped it, but it did not go off, which enraged

him the more.

Winter and Peterson standing nearest to Williams, and seeing him so

furious, flew at him immediately, and each of them fired a pistol at

him. One shot him through the arm, and the other into his belly, at

which he fell, and the men about him laid hold of him to throw him

overboard, believing he was dead; but as they lifted him up, he started

violently out of their hands, and leaped directly into the hold, and

from thence ran desperately into the powder-room with his pistol cocked

in his hand, swearing he would blow them all up. He had certainly done

it, if they had not seized him just as he had gotten the scuttle open,

and was that moment going to put his hellish resolution into practice.

Having thus secured the distracted, raving creature, they carried him

forward to the place which they had made on purpose between decks to

secure their prisoners, and put him amongst them, having first loaded

him with irons, and particularly handcuffed him with his hands behind

him, to the great satisfaction of the other prisoners, who knowing what

a butcherly furious fellow he was, were terrified to the last degree to

see him come in among them, until they beheld the condition he came in.

He was, indeed, the terror of all the prisoners, for he usually treated

them in a barbarous manner, without the least provocation, and merely

for his humour, presenting pistols to their breasts, swearing he would

shoot them that moment, and then would beat them unmercifully, and all

for his diversion as he called it. Having thus laid him fast, they

presently resolved to stand away to the westward, by which they quitted

the Martinico ship, who by that time was come nearer to them, and

farther convinced them they were in no condition to have engaged her,

for she was a stout ship and full of men.

All this happened just the day before they shared their last prize among

the prisoners, in which they put on such a mock face of doing justice to

the several captains and mates and other men, their prisoners, whose

ships they had taken away, and to whom now they made reparation, by

giving them what they had taken violently from another, so that it was a

strange medley of mock justice made up of rapine and generosity blended

together.

Two days after this they took a Bristol ship bound from Newfoundland to

Oporto with fish. They let her cargo alone, for they had no occasion for

fish, but they took out almost all their provisions, all the ammunition,

arms, etc., and her good sails, also her best cables, and forced two of

her men to go away with them, and then got ten of the Frenchman on board

and let her go. But just as they were parting with her, they consulted

together what to do with Williams the lieutenant, who was then among the

prisoners and in irons. And after a short debate, they resolved to put

him on board the Bristol-man and send him away too, which accordingly

was done, with directions to the master to deliver him on board the

first English man-of-war they should meet with, in order to get his

being hanged for a pirate, as they jeeringly called him, as soon as he

came to England, giving the master an account of some of his villainies.

The truth is, this Williams was a monster rather than a man. He was the

most inhuman, bloody and desperate creature that the world could

produce, and was even too wicked for Gow and all his crew, though they

pirates and murderers, as has been shown. His temper was so savage, so

villainous, so merciless, that even the pirates themselves told him it

was time he was hanged out of the way.

One instance of the barbarity of Williams cannot be omitted, and will be

sufficient to justify all that can be said of him. When Gow gave it as a

reason against engaging with the Martinico ship, that he had a great

many prisoners on board, and some of their own men that they could not

depend on, Williams proposed to have them all called up one by one, and

to cut their throats and throw them overboard--a proposal so horrid that

the worst of the crew shook their heads at it. Gow answered him very

handsomely, that there had been too much blood spilled already; yet the

refusing this, heightened the quarrel, and was the chief occasion of his

offering to pistol Gow himself. After which his behaviour was such as

made all the ship's crew resolved to be rid of him, and it was thought

if they had not had an opportunity to send him away, as they did by the

Bristol ship, they would have been obliged to have hanged him

themselves. This cruel and butchery temper of Williams being carried to

such a height, and so near to the ruin of them all, shocked some of

them, and as they acknowledged gave some check in the heat of their

wicked progress, and had they had an opportunity to have gone on shore

at that time, without falling into the hands of Justice, it is believed

the greatest part of them would have abandoned the ship, and perhaps the

very trade of a pirate too. But they had dipped their hands in blood,

and Heaven had no doubt determined to bring them, that is, the chief of

them, to the gallows for it, as indeed they all deserved, so they went

on.

When they put Williams on board the Bristol-man, and he was told what

directions they gave with him, he began to relent, and made all the

intercession he could to Captain Gow for pardon, or at least not to be

put on board the ship, knowing that if he was carried to Lisbon, he

should meet with his due from the Portuguese, if not from the English;

for it seems he had been concerned in some villainies among the

Portuguese before he came on board the _George_ galley. What they were

he did not confess, nor indeed did his own ship's crew trouble

themselves to examine him about it. He had been wicked enough among

them, and it was sufficient to make them use him as they did. It was

more to be wondered, indeed, that they did not cut him to pieces upon

the spot and throw him into the sea, half on one side of the ship, and

half on the other, for there was scarce a man in the ship but on one

occasion or other had some apprehensions of him, and might be said to go

in danger of his life from him. But they chose to shift their hands of

him this bloodless way, so they double fettered him and brought him up.

When they brought him among the men, he begged they would throw him

into the sea and drown him; then entreated for his life with a meanness

which made them despise him, and with tears, so that one time they began

to relent. But then the devilish temper of the fellow over-ruled it

again, so at last they resolved to let him go, and did accordingly put

him on board, and gave him many a hearty curse at parting, wishing him a

good voyage to the gallows, which was made good afterwards, though in

such company as they little thought of at that time. The Bristol captain

was very just to him, for according to their orders, as soon as they

came to Lisbon, they put him on board the _Argyle_, one of His Majesty's

ships, Captain Bowles commander, then lying in the Tagus, and bound home

for England, who accordingly brought him home. Though, as it happened,

Heaven brought the captain and the rest of the crew so quickly to an end

of their villainies that they all came home time enough to be hanged

with their lieutenant.

But to return to Gow and his crew. Having thus dismissed the

Bristol-man, and cleared his hands of most of his prisoners, with the

same wicked generosity he gave the Bristol captain thirteen cerons of

beeswax, as a gratuity for his trouble and charge with the prisoners,

and in recompense, as he called it, for the goods he had taken from him,

and so they parted.

This was the last prize they took, not only on the coast of Portugal,

but anywhere else, for Gow, who, to give him his due, was a fellow of

council and had a great presence of mind in cases of exigence,

considered that as soon as the Bristol ship came into the river of

Lisbon, they would certainly give an account of them, as well of their

strength, and of their station in which they cruised, and that

consequently the English men-of-war (of which there are generally some

in that river) would immediately come abroad to look for then. So he

began to reason with his officers that the coast of Portugal would be no

proper place at all for them, unless they resolved to fall into the

hands of the said men-of-war, and they ought to consider immediately

what to do. In these debates some advised one thing, some another, as is

usual in like cases. Some were for going to the coast of Guinea, where,

as they said, was purchase[103] enough, and very rich ships to be taken;

others were for going to the West Indies, and to cruise among the

Islands, and take up their station at Tobago; others, and not those of

the most ignorant, proposed standing in to the Bay of Mexico, and

joining in with some of a new sort of pirates at St. Jago de la Cuba,

who are all Spaniards, and call themselves _Guarda del Costa_, that is

Guard ships for the coast (though under that pretence they make prize of

ships of all nations, and sometimes even of their own countrymen too,

but especially of the English), but when this was proposed, it was

answered they durst not trust the Spaniards. Others said they should go

first to the islands of New Providence [Bahama Islands], or to the mouth

of the Gulf of Florida, and then cruising on the coast of North America,

and making their retreat at New Providence, cruise from the Gulf of

Florida, north upon the coast of Carolina, and as high as the Capes of

Virginia.

But nothing could be resolved on, until at last Gow let them into the

secret of a project, which, as he told them, he had long had in his

thoughts, and this was to go away to the North of Scotland, near the

coast of which, as he said, he was born and bred, and where he said, if

they met with no purchase upon the sea, he could tell them how they

should enrich themselves by going on shore. To bring them to concur with

this design, he represented the danger they were in where they were, the

want they were in of fresh water, and of several kinds of provisions,

but above all, the necessity they were in of careening and cleaning

their ship; that it was too long a run for them to go to southward, and

that they had not provisions to serve them till they could reach to any

place proper for that purpose, and might be driven to the utmost

distress, if they should be put by from watering, either by weather or

enemies.

Also, he told them, if any of the men-of-war came out in search of them,

they would never imagine they were gone away to the northward, so that

their run that way was perfectly secure, and he could assure them of his

own knowledge that if they landed in such places as he should direct,

they could not fail of considerable booty in plundering some gentlemen's

houses, who lived secured and unguarded very near the shore; and that

though the country should be alarmed, yet before the Government could

send any men-of-war to attack them, they might clean their ship, lay in

a store of fresh provisions, and be gone. Beside that, they would get a

good many stout fellows to go along with them upon his encouragement, so

that they should be better manned than they were yet, and should be

ready against all events.

These arguments and their approaching fate concurring, had a sufficient

influence on the ship's company to prevail on them to consent, so they

made the best of their way to the northward; and about the middle of

January they arrived at Carristoun,[104] in the Isles of Orkney, and

came to an anchor in a place which Gow told them was safe riding under

the lee of a small island at some distance from the port. But now their

misfortunes began to come on, and things looked but with an indifferent

aspect upon them, for several of their men, especially such of them as

had been forced or decoyed into their service, began to think of making

their escape from them, and to cast about for means to bring it to pass.

The first to take an opportunity to go away was a young man who was

originally one of the ship's company, but was forced by fear of being

murdered (as has been observed) to give a silent assent to go with them.

It was one evening when the boat went on shore, for they kept a civil

correspondence with the people of the town, that this young fellow,

being one of the ship's crew and having been several times on shore

before, and therefore not suspected, gave them the slip and got away to

a farm-house which lay under a hill out of sight. There, for two or

three pieces-of-eight, he got a horse, and soon by that means escaped to

Kirkwall, a market town and chief of the Orkneys, about twelve miles

from the place where the ship lay. As soon as he came there he

surrendered himself to the Government, desiring protection, and informed

them who Gow was, and what the ship's crew were, and upon what business

they were abroad, with what else he knew of their designs, as to

plundering the gentlemen's houses, etc. Upon this they immediately

raised the country, and got a strength together to defend themselves.

But the next disaster that attended the pirates (for misfortunes seldom

come alone) was more fatal than this, for ten of Gow's men, most of them

likewise forced into their service, went away with the long-boat, making

the best of their way for the mainland of Scotland. These men, however

they did it, or what shift soever they made to get so far, were taken in

the Firth of Edinburgh, and made prisoners there.

Hardened for his own destruction and Justice evidently pursuing him, Gow

grew the bolder for the disaster, and notwithstanding that the country

was alarmed, and that he was fully discovered, instead of making a

timely escape, he resolved to land, and so put his intended project of

plundering the gentlemen's houses into execution, whatever it cost him.

In order to this he sent the boatswain and ten men on shore the very

same night, very well armed, directing them to go to the house of Mr.

Honeyman of Grahamsey, sheriff of the county, and who was himself at

that time, to his great good fortune, from home. The people of the house

had not the least notice of their coming, so that when they knocked at

the door, it was immediately opened. Upon which they all entered the

house at once, except one Panton, who they set sentinel and ordered him

to stand at the door to secure their retreat, and to hinder any from

coming in after them Mrs. Honeyman and her daughter were extremely

frightened at the sight of so many armed men coming into the house, and

ran screaming about like people distracted, while the pirates, not

regarding them, were looking about for chests and trunks, where they

might expect to find some plunder; and Mrs. Honeyman in her fright

coming to the door asked Panton, the man who stood sentinel there, what

the meaning of it all was. He told her freely they were pirates, and

that they came to plunder her house. At this she recovered some courage,

and ran back into the house immediately, and knowing where her money

lay, which was very considerable and all in gold, she put the bag in her

lap and boldly rushing by Panton, who thought she was only running from

them in a fright, carried it all off, and so made her escape with the

treasure.

The boatswain being informed that the money was carried off, resolved to

revenge himself by burning the writings and papers, which they call

there the charters of their estates, and are always of great value in

gentlemen's houses of estates but the young lady, Mr. Honeyman's

daughter hearing them threaten to burn the writings, watched her

opportunity, and running to the charter-room where they lay, tied the

most considerable of them up in a napkin and threw them out of the

window, jumped out after them herself, and escaped without damage,

though the window was one storey high at least.

However, the pirates had the plundering of all the rest of the house

besides, and carried off a great deal of plate, and things of value, and

forced one of the servants, who played very well on the bagpipes, to

march along, piping before them, when they carried it off to the ship.

The next day they weighed anchor, intending though they had cleaned but

one side of the ship, to put out to sea and quit the coast. But sailing

eastward, they came to anchor again at a little island called Calf

Sound. And having some further mischief in their view here the boatswain

went on shore again with some armed men; but meeting with no other

plunder they carried off three women, whom they kept on board some time

and used so inhumanly that when they set them on shore again they were

not able to go or stand, and it is said one of them died on the beach

where they left them.

The next day they weighed again, holding the same course eastward,

through the openings between the islands, till they came off Ross Ness;

and now Gow resolved to make the best of his way for the Island of Eday,

to plunder the house of Mr. Fea, a gentleman of a considerable estate,

and with whom Gow had some acquaintance, having been at school together,

when they were youths. On the 13th of February in the morning, Gow

appearing with his ship off Calf Sound, Mr. Fea and his family were very

much alarmed, not being able to get together above six or seven men for

his defence. He therefore wrote a letter to Gow intending to send it on

board as soon as he should get into the harbour, to desire him to

forbear the usual salutes, with his great guns, because Mrs. Fea his

wife was so very much indisposed, and this as he would oblige his old

school fellow; telling him at the same time that the inhabitants were

all fled to the mountains, on the report of his being a pirate, which he

hoped would not prove true. In which case, he should be very ready to

supply him with all such necessities as the island would afford,

desiring him to send the messengers safe back, at whose return the

alarms of the people would immediately be at an end.

The tide it seems runs extremely rapid among those islands, and the

navigation is thereby rendered very dangerous and uncertain. Gow was an

able seaman, but was no pilot for that place, and which was worse, he

had no boat to assist in case of extremity, to ware the ship, and in

turning into Calf Sound, he stood a little too near the point of a

little island called the Calf, and which lay in the middle of the

passage. Here his ship missing stays, was in great danger of going on

shore; to avoid which, he dropped an anchor under his foot, which taking

good hold, brought him up, and he thought the danger was over. Gow was

yet in distress and had no remedy but to send his small boat on shore to

Mr. Fea to desire his assistance, that is to say, to desire him to lend

him a boat to carry out an anchor and heave off the ship. Mr. Fea sent

back the boat, and one James Laing in it, with the letter already

mentioned. Gow sent him back immediately with an answer, by word of

mouth, viz., that he would write to nobody, but if Mr. Fea would order

his people to assist him with a boat to carry out an anchor, he would

reward them handsomely.

In the meantime Mr. Fea ordered his great boat, for he had such a one as

Gow wanted, to be staved and launched into the water and sunk, and the

masts, sails and oars to be carried out of sight. While this was doing

Mr. Fea perceived Gow's boat coming on shore, with five persons in her.

These men having landed on the main island, left their boat on the

beach, and altogether marched directly up to the mansion house. This put

him into some surprise at first, however, he resolved to meet them in a

peaceable manner, though he perceived they were all double-armed. When

he came up to them, he entreated them not to go up to the house,

because of the languishing condition of his wife, who was already

frighted with the rumours which had been raised of their being pirates,

and that she would certainly die with the fear she was in for herself

and family, if they came to the door.

The boatswain answered they did not desire to fright his wife, or

anybody else, but they came to desire the assistance of his boat, and if

he would not grant them so small a favour, he had nothing to expect from

them but the utmost extremity. Mr. Fea returned that they knew well

enough he could not venture to give them or lend them his boat or any

help, as they appeared to be such people as were reported, but that if

they would take them by force, he could not help himself. But in the

meantime, talking still in a friendly manner to them, he asked them to

go to a neighbouring house, which he said was a change-house, that is a

public-house, and take a cup of ale with him. This they consented to,

seeing Mr. Fea was alone; so they went all with him. In the meantime Mr.

Fea found means to give secret orders that the oars, masts and sails of

the pirates' boat should be all carried away, and that a quarter of an

hour after they had sat together, he should be called hastily out of the

room, on some pretence or other of somebody to speak with him; all which

was performed to a tittle. When he was got from them, he gave orders

that his six men, who before he had got together, and who were now come

to him well armed, should place themselves at a certain stile behind a

thick hedge, and which was about half way between the alehouse and his

own house, saying that if he came that way with the boatswain alone,

they should suddenly start out upon them both, and throwing him down,

should seize upon the other, but that if all the five came with him, he

would take an occasion to be either before or behind them, so that they

might all fire upon them, without danger of hurting him.

Having given these orders, and depending upon their being well executed,

he returned to the company and having given them more ale, told them he

would gladly do them any service that he could lawfully do, and that if

they would take the trouble of walking up to his house in a peaceable

manner so that his family might not be frighted with seeing him among

them, they should have all the assistance that was in his power. The

fellows (whether they had taken too much ale, or whether the condition

of their ship and the hopes of getting a boat to help them, blinded

their eyes, is not certain) fell with ease into this snare, and agreed

readily to go along with Mr. Fea; but after a while resolved not to go

all of them, only deputed the boatswain to go, which was what Mr. Fea

most desired.

[Illustration: A GANG OF MEN AND WOMEN TRANSPORTS BEING MARCHED FROM

NEWGATE TO BLACKFRIARS

Chained neck to neck and hand to hand these wretches were led through

the streets to Blackfriars Stairs, where they were taken aboard a barge

and carried down the river to the vessel which was to transport them to

America.

(_From the Newgate Calendar_)]

The boatswain was very willing to accept of the trust, but it was

observed he took a great deal of care of his arms, which were no less

than four pistols, all loaded with a brace of bullets each, nor would he

be persuaded to leave any of them behind him, no not with his own men.

In this posture, Mr. Fea and the boatswain walked along together very

quietly, until they came to the stile, having got over which Mr. Fea,

seeing his men all ready, turned short about upon the boatswain, and

taking him by the collar, told him he was his prisoner and the same

moment, the rest of his men rushing in upon them, threw both down, and

so secured the boatswain, without giving him time so much as to fire one

pistol. He cried out, indeed, with all his might to alarm his men, but

they soon stopped his mouth by first forcing a pistol into it, and then

a handkerchief; and having disarmed him, bound his hands behind him and

his feet together. Then Mr. Fea left him there under a guard, and with

his other five men, but without arms, at least such that could be seen,

returned to the alehouse to the rest. The house having two doors, they

divided themselves and rushing in at both doors at the same time, they

seized the four men before they were aware, or had time to lay hold of

their arms. They did indeed what men could do, and one of them snapped a

pistol at Mr. Fea, but it did not go off, and Mr. Fea at the same time

snatching at the pistol to divert the shot if it had fired, struck his

hand with such force against the cock, as very much bruised it.

They were all five now in his power, and he sent them away under a good

guard to a village in the middle of the island, where they were kept

separate from one another, and sufficiently secured. Mr. Fea then

despatched expresses to the gentlemen in the neighbouring island to

acquaint them with what he had done, and to desire their speedy

assistance, also desiring earnestly that they would take care that no

boat should go within reach of the pirates' guns. And at night Mr. Fea

caused fires to be made upon the hills round him, to alarm the country,

and ordered all the boats round the Island to be hauled up upon the

beach, as far as it was possible, and disabled also, lest the pirates

should swim from the ship, and get any of them into their possession.

Next day, the 4th, it blew very hard all day, and in the evening about

high water, it shifted to W.N.W., upon which the pirates set their

sails, expecting to get off and so to lay it round the island, and put

out to sea. But the fellow who was ordered to cut the cable, missing

several strokes, the cable checked the ship's way, and consequently on a

sudden she took all aback. Then the cable being parted when it should

have been held, the ship ran directly on shore on the Calf Island, nor

could all their speed prevent it. With an air of desperation Gow told

them they were all dead men, nor could it indeed be otherwise, for

having lost the only boat they had, and five of their best hands, they

were able to do little or nothing towards getting their ship off;

besides, as she went on shore at the top of high water, and a spring

tide, there was no hope of getting her off afterward. Wherefore the next

morning, being Monday, the 15th, they hung out a white flag, as a signal

for a parley, and sent a man on shore upon Calf Island, for now they

could go on shore out of the ship at half flood.

Now Mr. Fea thought he might talk with Gow, in a different style from

what he did before; so he wrote a letter to him, wherein he complained

of the rude behaviour of his five men, for which he told him, he had

been obliged to seize on them, and make them prisoners, letting him know

that the country being all alarmed would soon be too many for him, and

therefore advised him to surrender himself peaceably, and be the author

of a quiet surrender of the rest, as the only means to obtain any

favour; and then he might become an evidence against the rest, and so

might save his own life. This letter Mr. Fea sent by a boat with four

armed men to the island, to be given to the fellow that Gow had sent on

shore, and who waited there; at the same time, he gave them a letter

from Gow to Mr. Fea, for now he was humbled enough to write, which

before he refused. Gow's letter to Mr. Fea was to let him have some men

and boats, to take out the best of the cargo, in order to lighten the

ship, and set her afloat; offering himself to come on shore and be

hostage for the security of men and boats and to give Mr. Fea a thousand

pounds in goods for the service. He declared at the same time, that if

this small succour was refused him, he would take care nobody should

better himself by his misfortunes, for rather than they would suffer

themselves to be taken, they would set fire to the ship, and would all

perish together.

Mr. Fea replied to this letter that he had a boat indeed, that would

have been fit for his service, but that she was staved and sunk; but if

he would come on shore quietly without arms, and bring his carpenter

with him to repair the boat, he might have her. Mr. Fea did this to give

Gow an opportunity to embrace his first offer of surrendering. But Gow

was neither humble enough to come in nor sincere enough to treat with

him fairly, if he had intended to let him have the boat; and if he had,

it is probable that the former letter had made the men suspicious of

him, so that now he could do nothing without communicating it to the

rest of the crew. About four in the afternoon Mr. Fea received an answer

to his last letter, the copy of which is exactly as follows:

From on board our Ship the

_Revenge_, Feb. 16th, 1725.

Honoured Sir,

I am sorry to hear of the irregular proceedings of my men; I gave no

orders to that effect, and what hath been wrongfully done to the

country, was contrary to my inclinations. It is my misfortune to be

in this condition at present; it was in your power to have done

otherwise in making my fortune better. Since my being in the

country, I have wronged no man, nor taken anything but what I have

paid for. My design in coming was to make the country better, which

I am still capable to do, providing you are just to me. I thank you

for the concern you have for my bad fortune, and am sorry I cannot

embrace your proposal as to being evidence, my people have already

made use of that advantage. I have by my last signified my design of

proceeding, provided I can procure no better terms. Please to send

James Laing on board to continue till my return. I should be glad to

have the good fortune to commune with you upon that subject. I beg

that you would assist me with a boat, and be assured I do no man

harm, were it in my power, as I am now at your mercy. I cannot

surrender myself prisoner, I'd rather commit myself to the mercy of

the seas; so that if you will incline to contribute to my escape, I

shall leave my ship and cargo at your disposal.

I continue,

Honoured Sir etc.,

John Smith

Upon this letter, and especially that part wherein Gow desired to

commune with him, Mr. Fea, believing he might do some service in

persuading him to submit, went over to Calf Island and went on shore

alone, ordering his boat to lie in readiness to take him in again, but

not one man to stir out of her, and calling to Gow with a speaking

trumpet desired him to come on shore. This the other readily did, but

Mr. Fea, before he ventured, wisely foresaw that whilst he was alone

upon the Island, the pirates might unknown from him, get the ship by

different ways, and under cover of shore might get behind and surround

him. To prevent which, he set a man upon the top of his own house, which

was on the opposite shore and overlooked the whole island, and ordered

him to make signals with his flag, waving his flag once for every man

that he saw come on shore, but if four or more came on shore, then to

keep the flag waving continually, till he (Mr. Fea) should retire. This

precaution was very needful, for no sooner was Mr. Fea advanced upon the

island, expecting Gow to come on shore to meet him, but he saw a fellow

come from the ship, with a white flag, a bottle, a glass and a bundle,

then turning to his own house, he saw his man make the signals

appointed, and that the man kept the flag continually waving. Upon which

he immediately retired to his boat, and he was no sooner got into it,

but he saw five fellows running under shore, with lighted matches and

grenadoes in their hands to have intercepted him, but seeing him out of

their reach, they retired to the ship.

After this the fellow with the white flag came up and gave Mr. Fea two

letters; he would have left the bundle, which he said was a present to

Mr. Fea, and the bottle which he said was a bottle of brandy, but Mr.

Fea would not take them, but told the fellow his captain was a

treacherous villain, and he did not doubt that he should see him hanged,

and as to him (the fellow) he had a great mind to shoot him; upon which

the fellow took to his heels, and Mr. Fea being in his boat did not

think it worth while to land again to pursue him. This put an end to all

parley for the present, but had the pirates succeeded in this attempt,

they would have so far gained their point, either that they must have

been assisted, or Mr. Fea must have been sacrificed.

The two letters from Gow were one for Mr. Fea, and the other for his

wife. The first was much to the same purpose as the former, only that in

this Gow requested the great boat with her masts, sails and oars, with

some provisions to transport themselves whither they thought fit to go

for their own safety, offering to leave the ship and cargo to Mr. Fea,

and threatening that if the men-of-war arrived (for Mr. Fea had given

him notice that he expected two men-of-war) before he was thus assisted,

they would set fire to the ship, and blow themselves up, so that as they

had lived so they would die together. The letter to Mrs. Fea was to

desire her to intercede with her husband, and plead that he was their

countryman and had been her husband's schoolfellow, etc. But no answer

was returned to either of these letters.

On the 17th, in the morning, contrary to expectation, Gow himself came

on shore upon the Calf Island[105], unarmed except for his sword, and

alone, only one man at a distance, carrying a white flag, making signals

for a parley. Mr. Fea, who by this time had gotten more people about

him, immediately sent one Mr. Fea, of Whitehall, a gentleman of his own

family, with five other persons well-armed over the island, with orders

to secure Gow if it were possible by any means, either dead or alive.

When they came on shore, Gow proposed that one of them, whose name was

Schottary, a master of a vessel, should go on board the ship as hostage

for this Gow's safety, and Schottary consenting, Gow himself conducted

him to the ship's side.

Mr. Fea perceiving this from his own house, immediately took another

boat and went over to the island himself, and while he was expostulating

with his men for letting Schottary go for hostage, Gow returned, and Mr.

Fea made no hesitation, but told him that he was his prisoner. At this

Gow started and said that it ought not to be so, since there was a

hostage delivered for him. Mr. Fea said he gave no order for it, and it

was what they could not justify, and since Schottary had ventured

without orders, he must take his fate, he would run the venture of it;

but he advised Gow, as he expected good usage himself, that he would

send the fellow who carried his white flag back to the ship with orders

for them to return Schottary in safety, and to desire Winter and

Peterson to come with him. Gow declined giving any such orders, but the

fellow said he would readily go and fetch them, and did so, and they

came along with him. When Gow saw them, he reproached them for being so

easily imposed on, and ordered them to go back to the ship immediately,

but Mr. Fea's men, who were too strong for them, surrounded them and

took them all. When this was done, they demanded Gow to deliver his

sword, but he said he would rather die with it in his hand, and begged

them to shoot him, but was denied; and Mr. Fea's men disarming him of

his sword, carried him with the other two into their boat, and after

that to the main island, where Mr. Fea lived.

Having thus secured the captain, Mr. Fea prevailed with him to go to the

shore over against the ship, and to call the gunner and another man to

come on shore on Calf Island, which they did. But they were no sooner

there, but they also were surrounded by some men which Mr. Fea had

placed out of sight upon the island for that purpose. Then they made Gow

call to the carpenter to come on shore, still making them believe they

would have a boat; and Mr. Fea went over and met him alone, and talking

with him, told him they could not repair the boat without help and

without tools. So persuading him to go back and bring a hand or two with

him, and some tools, some oakum, nails, etc., the carpenter being thus

deluded, went back and brought a Frenchman and another with him, with

all things proper for their work. All of whom, as soon as they came on

shore, were likewise seized and secured by Mr. Fea and his men.

But there were still a great many men in the ship, whom it was necessary

to bring if possible to a quiet surrender; so Mr. Fea ordered his men to

make a feint as if they would go to work upon the great boat which lay

on the shore upon the island but in sight of the ship. There they

hammered and knocked and made a noise as if they were really caulking

and repairing her, in order to her being launched off and put into their

possession; but towards night he obliged Gow to write to the men that

Mr. Fea would not deliver the boat until he was in possession of the

ship, and therefore he ordered them all to come on shore, without arms,

and in a peaceable manner. This occasioned many debates in the ship, but

as they had no officers to guide them and were all in confusion, they

knew not what to do. So after some time bewailing their hard fate, and

dividing what money was left in the ship among them, they yielded and

went on shore, and were all made prisoners, to the number of

eight-and-twenty, including those who were secured before.

Being now all secured and in custody in the most proper places in the

island, Mr. Fea took care to give notice to the proper officers in the

country, and by them to the Government of Edinburgh, in order to get

help for the carrying them to England. The distance being so great, it

took up some time; for the Government at Edinburgh not being immediately

concerned in it, but rather the Court of Admiralty of Great Britain,

expresses were dispatched from thence to London, that his Majesty's

pleasure might be known; in return to which, orders were despatched into

Scotland to have them immediately sent up into England with as much

expedition as the case would admit. Accordingly they were brought up by

land to Edinburgh first, and from thence being put on board the

_Greyhound_ frigate, they were brought by sea to England. This

necessarily took up a great deal of time, so that had they been wise

enough to improve the hours that were left, they had almost half a

year's time to prepare themselves for death, though they cruelly denied

the poor mate of a few moments to commend his soul to God's mercy, even

after he was half murdered before. They were most of them in custody the

latter end of January, and were not executed till the 11th of June.

The _Greyhound_ arrived in the river the 25th of March, and the next day

came to an anchor at Woolwich; and the pirates being put into boats

appointed to receive them, with a strong guard to attend them, were

brought on shore on the 30th, and conveyed to the Marshalsea prison in

Southwark, where they were delivered to the keepers of the said prison,

and were laid in irons. There they had the mortification to meet

Lieutenant Williams, who was brought home by the _Argyle_ man-of-war,

from Lisbon, and had been committed to the same prison but a very few

days before.

Indeed, as it was a mortification to them, so it was more to him, for

though he might be secretly pleased that those who had so cruelly, as he

called it, put him into the hands of Justice by sending him to Lisbon,

were brought into the same circumstances with himself, yet on the other

hand, it could not but be a terrible mortification to him that here were

now sufficient witnesses found to prove his crimes against him, which

were not so easy to be had before.

Being thus laid fast, it remained to proceed against them in due form,

and this took up some long time still. On Friday, the 2nd of April, they

were all carried to Doctors' Commons, where the proper judges being

present, they were examined; by which examination the measures were

taken for the farther proceedings. For as they were not equally guilty,

so it was needful to determine who it was proper to bring to an

immediate trial, and who, being less guilty, were more proper objects of

the Government's clemency, as being under force and fear and

consequently necessitated to act as they did; and also who it might be

proper to single out as an evidence against the rest. After being thus

examined they were remanded to the Marshalsea. On Saturday, the 8th of

May, the five who were appointed for evidence against the rest, and

whose names are particularly set down in its place, were sent from the

Marshalsea prison to Newgate, in order to give their information.

Being thus brought up to London, and committed to the Marshalsea prison,

and the Government being fully informed, what black uncommon offenders

they were, it was thought proper to bring them to speedy justice. In

order to this, some of them, as has been said, who were less criminal

than the rest, and who apparently had been forced into their service,

were sorted out, and being examined (giving first an account of

themselves, and then of the whole fraternity) it was thought fit to make

use of their evidence for the more clear detecting and convincing of the

rest. These were George Dobson, John Phinnes, Timothy Murphy, and

William Booth.

These were the principal evidences, and were indeed more than

sufficient, for they so exactly agreed in their evidence, and the

prisoners (pirates) said so little in their defence, that there was no

room for the jury to question their guilt, or to doubt the truth of any

part of the account given in. Robert Read was a young man, mentioned

before, who escaped from the boat in the Orkneys, where he surrendered

himself, after getting a horse at a farmer's house, and conveying

himself to Kirkwall, the chief town of the said Orkneys. Nevertheless,

he was brought up as a prisoner with the rest, nor was he made use of as

an evidence but was tried upon most, if not all the indictments with the

rest. But Dobson, one of the witnesses, did him the justice to testify

that he was forced into their service, as others were, for fear of

having their throats cut, as many had been served before their faces,

and that in particular he was not present at, or concerned in any of the

murders for which the rest were indicted. Upon which evidence, he was

acquitted by the jury. Also he brought one Archibald Sutor, the man of

the house said before to be a farm-house, as to whether the said Read

made his escape in the Orkneys, who testified that he did so escape to

him, and that he begged him to procure him a horse, to ride off to

Kirkwall, which he did, and there he surrendered himself; also he

testified that Read gave him (Sutor) a full account of the ship and the

pirates that were in her, and what they were; and that he (Sutor)

revealed it all to the collector of the Customs, by which means the

country was alarmed, and he added, that it was by this man's means that

all the prisoners were apprehended (though that was going too far, for

'tis plain, that it was by the vigilance and courage of Mr. Fea,

chiefly, that they were reduced to such distresses as obliged them to

surrender). However, it was true that Read's escape did alarm the

country, and that he merited very well of the public for the timely

discovery he made, so he came off clear as indeed it was but just, for

he was not only forced to serve them, but as Dobson testified for him,

he had often expressed his uneasiness at being obliged to act with them,

and that he wished he could get away, and he was sincere in those

wishes, as appeared by his taking the first opportunity he could get to

put it in practice. This Dobson was one of the ten men who ran away with

the pirates' long-boat from the Orkneys, and who were afterwards made

prisoners in the Firth of Leith, and carried up to Edinburgh.

Gow was now a prisoner among the rest in the Marshalsea. His behaviour

there was sullen and reserved, rather than penitent. It had been hinted

to him by Mr. Fea, as by others, that by his behaviour he should

endeavour to make himself an evidence against others, and to merit his

life by a ready submission, and obliging others to do the like. But Gow

was no fool, and he easily saw there were too many gone before who had

provided for their own safety at his expense, and besides that he knew

himself too deeply guilty of cruelty and murder to be accepted by public

justice as an evidence, especially where so many other less criminals

were to be had. This made him, with good reason, too, give over any

thoughts of escaping by such means as that; and perhaps seeing so

plainly that there was no room for it might be the reason why he seemed

to reject the offer, otherwise he was not a person of such nice honour

as that we should suppose he would not have secured his own life at the

expense of his comrades. Gow appeared to have given over all thoughts of

life, from the first time he came to England. Not that he showed any

tokens of his repentance, or any sense of his condition suitable to that

which was before him, but continuing sullen and reserved, even to the

very time he was brought to the bar, when he came there, he could not be

tried with the rest, for the arraignment being made in the usual form,

he refused to plead. The Court used all the arguments which humanity

dictates in such cases,[106] to prevail on him to come into ordinary

course of other people in like government, laying before him the

sentence of the law in such cases, namely that he must be pressed to

death, the only torturing execution which however they were obliged to

inflict.

But he continued inflexible, carried on his obstinacy to such a height

as to receive the sentence in form, as usual in such cases. The

execution being appointed to be done the next morning, he was carried

back to Newgate in order to it. But whether he was prevailed with by

argument and the reasons of those about him, or whether the apparatus

for the execution and the manner of the death he was to die terrified

him, we cannot say, but the next morning he yielded, and petitioned to

be allowed to plead, and he admitted to be tried in the ordinary way.

Which being granted, he was brought to the bar by himself and pleaded,

being arraigned again upon the same indictment upon which he had been

sentenced as a mute, and was found guilty.

Williams the lieutenant, who was put on board the Bristol ship (as hath

been said) with orders to deliver him on board the first English

man-of-war they should meet with, comes, of course, to have the rest of

his history made up in this place. The captain of the Bristol ship,

though he received his orders from the crew of pirates and rogues, whose

instructions he was not obliged to follow, and whose accusation of

Williams they were not obliged to give credit to, yet punctually obeyed

the order, and put him on board the _Argyle_, Captain Bowler, then lying

in the port of Lisbon and bound for England; who, as they took him in

irons, kept him so, and brought him to England, in the same conditions.

But as the pirates did not send any of their company, nor indeed could

they do it, along with him to be evidence against him, and the men who

went out of the pirate ship on board the Bristol ship, being till then

kept as prisoners on board the pirate ship (and perhaps could not have

said enough, or given particular evidence, sufficient to convict him in

a course of justice), Providence supplied the want by bringing the whole

crew to the same place; for Williams was in the Marshalsea prison before

them, and by that means they furnished sufficient evidence against

Williams also, so that they were all tried together.

In Williams's case the evidence was as particular as in Gow's, and

Dobson and the other swore positively that Williams boasted that after

MacCauly had cut the super-cargo's throat imperfectly, he (Williams)

murdered him, and added that he would not give him time to say his

prayers, but shot him through the head. Phinnes and Timothy Murphy

testified the same, and to show the bloody disposition of this wretch,

William Booth testified that Williams proposed afterwards to the company

that if they took any more ships they should not encumber themselves

with the men, having already so many prisoners that in case of a fight

they should not be safe with them; but that they should take them and

tie them, back to back, and throw them all overboard into the sea.

It should not be omitted here also in the case of Gow himself (as I have

observed in the introduction) that Gow had long meditated the kind of

villainy which he now put in practice, and that it was his resolution to

turn pirate the first opportunity he should get, whatever voyage he

undertook, and that I observed he had intended it on board a ship in

which he came home from Lisbon, and failed only for want of a sufficient

party. So this resolution of his is confirmed by the testimony and

confession of James Belvin, one of his fellow-criminals, who upon trial

declared that he knew that Gow and the crew of the _George_ galley had a

design to turn pirates from the beginning, and added that he discovered

it to George Dobson, in Amsterdam, before the ship went out to sea. For

the confirmation of this, George Dobson was called up again, after he

had given his evidence upon the trials, and being confronted by Belvin,

he did acknowledge that Belvin had said so, and that in particular he

had said that the boatswain had a design to murder the master and some

others and run away with the ship. Being asked why he did not

immediately reveal it to the master, Captain Ferneau, he answered that

he heard Belvin tell the mate of it, and that the mate told the captain;

but the captain made light of it. But the boatswain finding himself

discovered, refused to go, upon which Gow was made second mate, and

Belvin was made boatswain; an he had been as honest afterwards as

before (whereas on the contrary, he was as forward and active as any of

them, except that he was not in the first secret nor in the murders), he

might have escaped what afterwards became so justly his due. But as they

acted together, Justice required that they should suffer together, and

accordingly, Gow and Williams, Belvin, Melvin, Winter, Peterson,

Rowlinson and MacCauly, received the reward of their cruelty and blood

at the gallows, being all executed together on the eleventh of June.

It happened that Gow being a very strong man, and giving a kind of

spring, it so strained the rope that, on some people pulling him by the

legs, it broke and he fell down, after he had remained about four

minutes suspended. His fall stunned him a little, but as soon as he was

taken up, he recovered himself so far as to be able to ascend the ladder

a second time, which he did with very little concern, dying with the

same brutal ferocity which animated all his actions while alive. His

body hangs in chains over against Greenwich, as that of Williams does

over against Blackwall.