XIII

Kidd’s defense may be pieced together from his own words as they

appeared, not as an orderly presentation of his position, but as

comments upon the answers of the witnesses and interjected explanations

during the proceedings. It was not without ingenuity.

“I had a commission,” he said in effect, “to take the French and

pirates; and in order to do that I came up with two ships that had

French passes both of them. I called all the men a-deck to consult, and

a great many went aboard the _Quedagh Merchant_. I would have given

that ship to Cogi Baba again, but the men would not; they all voted

against it. They said, we will make a prize of her; we will carry her

to Madagascar. Palmer and Bradinham have heard me speak of the French

passes taken from the ships. The _Quedagh Merchant_ was under a French

commission. Her master was a tavern-keeper at Surat. I was not at the

sharing of the goods taken from her; I know nothing of it.

“I did not take Culliford because a great many of my men went ashore;

the statement that I gave him guns and presents is only what these

witnesses say. I was not aboard Culliford’s ship. I have some papers,

but my lord Bellamont keeps them from me; that I can not bring them

before the court. I never designed to keep more company with Captain

Culliford than with Captain Warren. I have many papers for my defense

if I could have had them; my French passes which my lord Bellamont has.

I could not condemn the ships according to law because of the mutiny in

my ship. Bradinham is a rogue; he shared in the goods and robbed the

surgeon’s chest. He knows nothing of these things; he used to sleep

five or six months together in the hold.

“The men took the goods of all the ships taken, and did what they

pleased with them. I was never near them. They lay in wait for me to

kill me. They took away what they pleased and went to the island;

and I, with about forty men, was left in the ship and we might go

whither we pleased. I will not ask the witness any more questions; so

long as he swears it our words or oaths can not be taken. Palmer is

a loggerhead. Ninety-five men deserted my ship, and went a-roguing

afterwards.

“I was threatened to be shot in the cabin if I would not go along

with the villains. This was the reason I could not come home. They

tried to burn my ship. When they deserted, I was forced to stay by

myself and pick up here a man and there a man to carry her home. Mr.

Bradinham is promised his life to take away mine. It is hard that a

couple of rascals should take away the king’s subjects’ lives; they

are a couple of rogues and rascals. It signifies nothing for me to ask

them anything. They have perjured themselves in many things; about the

guns given to Culliford, that is one thing; he swore I gave them four

guns yesterday, now he says but two. Then he says the ship went from

Plymouth the beginning of May and before he said it was in April. I

have been sworn against by perjured and wicked people.”

By way of defense to the murder charge, he alleged that there was a

mutiny on board, of which Moore was a leader, and the trouble ensued

from that fact. He is borne out in this to some extent by Hugh Parrot,

not a friendly witness, who averred that the seamen had taken up arms

against their captain in the _Loyal Captain_ crisis.

He called a couple of old salts as character witnesses who had fought

by his side against the French and who testified that he had been a

doughty man.

As for the nine common seamen, their geese were more quickly cooked.

They only defended by pleading that they had surrendered under the

king’s proclamation, to which the judges replied that inasmuch as

they had not given themselves up to Captain Warren, or any of the

three special commissioners, they were not within the terms of the

instrument, and could only hope their surrender might at this time

provoke the king’s clemency. Which was but dubious cheer. Three of

them showed they were on board as servants of particular persons and

not as sailors working the ship, and these were cleared.

After very short absences the juries at each trial returned verdicts of

guilty as charged against all except the three servants.

Thus the Captain Kidd of fiction disappears, but not so completely as

those who would have us believe that he was not guilty of piracy at

all. His defense suggests a state of things on board his ships which

is probably true, but the advantage he might have gained from such a

showing is weakened by several circumstances.

The state could have conceded his claim that the ships he took were

under French commissions, and they had French passes which were then

in the possession of Earl Bellamont in New York. It might even have

granted that under the compulsion of his crew he was prevented from

bringing them in for condemnation, as required by his commission.

Still, the significant thing would remain that he made no attempt to

account for his share of the cargoes, which he did not unequivocally

deny receiving.

His commission to take pirates required a careful and exact account of

every ship captured, her cargo, its value and all other details, to say

nothing of French ships, whose condemnation was lifted entirely out

of his hands. He did not attempt to explain all these irregularities.

We are considering strictly the matter adduced on his trial. When

we go beyond the record of that, and see, as we have, his conduct on

his return home, it is clear as daylight that he was exercising over

the property taken from the alleged French ships a private ownership

entirely incompatible with this defense.

If the _Quedagh Merchant_ was under a French pass, as he asserted,

then that portion of her cargo which he brought to Oyster Bay in the

_St. Antonio_ was neither his nor Bellamont’s, nor Livingston’s, but

the Government’s. No, the thing doesn’t seem to hold water; nobody

concerned in the whole affair seems to have been straightforward.

And so, within a week of his conviction, Captain William Kidd was

hanged at Execution Dock, on the margin of the Thames, where sailors

setting out for the far places of the earth thus received England’s

farewell admonition that honesty is the best policy.

Pirate tales from the law · 第 26 / 66 题