CHAPTER VI.

THE PIRATES OF THE EIGHTEENTH CENTURY.

Difference between the Pirates of the Seventeenth and Eighteenth Centuries—Avery’s brief Career—A Captain all at Sea—Capture of his Ship—Madagascar, a Rendezvous for Pirates—A Rich Prize—The Great Mogul’s Ship taken—Immense Spoils—The Great Mogul’s Rage—Avery’s Treachery—His Companions abandon their Evil Ways—The Water-rat beaten by Land-rats—Avery dies in abject Poverty—A Pirate Settlement on Madagascar—Roberts the Daring—Sails among a Portuguese Fleet, and selects the best Vessel for his Prey—His Brutal Destruction of Property—His End—Misson and Caraccioli—Communistic Pirates—Their Captures—High Morality and Robbery combined—Their Fates.

As we have seen, the seventeenth century presented innumerable examples of piracy on a grand scale. The eighteenth presents no examples of formidable organisations; on the contrary, each pirate, as a rule, worked for himself, and relied on the unaided strength of himself and crew. An example is afforded by Avery. Captain Avery’s brief career was, piratically considered, brilliant enough. In 1715 we find him mate of a vessel starting from Bristol, and designed for a privateer. The commander, Captain Gibson, was a convivial sailor, fond of his bottle, and in port was usually found ashore. On the evening on which the event about to be described took place, he was on board, but having taken his usual dose or doses of strong liquor, had retired to his berth. The crew not in the secret were also below, leaving on deck only a few conspirators with whom Avery had made a compact. At the time agreed some other conspirators came off in a long-boat, and Avery hailed them, and was answered in the following terms: “Is your drunken boatswain aboard?”—the watch-word previously arranged. Avery replied in the affirmative, and the boat, manned by sixteen stout fellows, came alongside, and in a few minutes the hatches were secured, and the ship put to sea. There were several vessels in port, and a Dutch skipper was offered a considerable reward to pursue Avery, but he declined. When Captain Gibson awoke he rang his bell, and Avery and one of the men going into the cabin, found him only half awake. He inquired what was the matter with the ship: “Does she drive? What weather is it?” He thought she was still in port. “No, no,” answered Avery; “we are at sea.” “At sea!” said the captain. “How is that?” “Come, come,” said Avery, “put on your clothes, and I’ll let you into a secret. You must know that I am captain now, and this is my cabin; therefore you must walk out!” He then explained his intentions of proceeding to Madagascar on a piratical venture. The captain was terribly frightened, but Avery reassured him by saying that he could either go ashore, or, if he chose to make one of them, and keep sober, he might in time be raised to the dignity of lieutenant. Gibson preferred the former alternative, and, with four or five men of the same mind, was put on shore.

Avery sailed for Madagascar, where he was joined by two sloops, the sailors on board which were themselves well inclined to his enterprise, having just before run away with the vessels from the East Indies. They sailed in company, and off the mouth of the Indus the man at the masthead espied a sail, and they gave chase. She was evidently a fine tall vessel, possibly an East Indiaman. She proved something better, for, when they fired a shot at her, she hoisted Mogul colours, and appeared ready for a fight. The sloops first attacked, with Avery for a support. The men of the sloops attacked on either quarter, and boarded her; she immediately afterwards struck her colours. She was one of the Great Mogul’s own ships, having on board many distinguished persons of his own court, including one of his daughters, going on a pilgrimage to the Holy City, Mecca. They were carrying with them rich offerings to present at the shrine of Mahomet. They were travelling in full Eastern magnificence, with retinues and slaves, immense sums of money, jewellery, and plate. The spoil which they obtained was immense, and after rifling the ship of everything valuable, the pirates allowed her to depart. The news soon reached the Great Mogul, and he was so enraged that he threatened to extirpate the English on the Indian coast. The East India Company had enough to do to pacify him, and only succeeded in doing so by promising to use every endeavour to punish the pirates. Avery’s name and fame soon after reached Europe, and, as might have been expected, all kinds of wild fables were circulated concerning him.

On the voyage to Madagascar Avery proposed to the commanders of the sloops that the treasures taken should be collectively stored on board his own ship, as being by far the strongest and safest place, until an opportunity should occur for a division on land. They acceded, and the treasure was brought on board, and, with what he had, deposited in three great chests. Avery having got it on his own ship, suggested to his men that they had now on board sufficient to make them all happy, and he proposed that they should immediately make for some country where they were not known, and where they might live in plenty. They soon understood his hint, and pressing on all sail, left the sloops’ crews to curse their perfidy. They proceeded to America, and at the Island of Providence, then newly settled, divided the spoils, and Avery pretending that his vessel had been an unsuccessful privateer, sold her readily. He then purchased a sloop, in which he and his companions sailed, and most of them landed on various parts of the American coasts, and settled. They dispersed over that country.

Avery, however, had carefully concealed the greater part of the jewels and other valuable articles, so that his riches were considerable. Arriving at Boston he was almost induced to settle there; but as the greater part of his wealth consisted of diamonds, he feared that if he attempted to dispose of them at that place he should certainly be arrested as a pirate. He resolved, therefore, to sail for the north of Ireland, where he dispersed his men, some of whom obtained the pardon of King William, and eventually became peaceable Irish settlers.

He found, however, that it was as difficult to dispose of his diamonds in Ireland, without rendering himself suspected, as in Boston. It, therefore, occurred to him that Bristol might be a likely place to suit his purpose, and he accordingly proceeded to Devonshire, having previously made arrangements to meet one of his friends at Bideford. The so-called friend introduced him to others, and the latter persuaded him that the safest plan would be to place his effects in the hands of some wealthy merchants who would make no inquiry as to how he came by them. One of these persons informed him that he knew merchants who would not bother him with inquiries, and Avery, falling easily into the trap, assented to this proposal. Accordingly the merchants who had been named paid him a visit at Bideford, where, after protestations of honour and integrity on their part, he delivered his diamonds and gold to them. After giving him a little money for his immediate support, they departed.

The old pirate changed his name, and lived quietly at Bideford, so that no notice was taken of him. The first sum of money he had received from the supposed merchants was soon spent, and for some time he heard nothing from the latter, though he wrote to them repeatedly. At length they sent him a small supply, but it was not sufficient to pay his debts. He therefore resolved to go at once to Bristol and have a personal interview with the merchants themselves. However, on arriving there he met with a mortifying repulse; for when he desired them to account with him, they silenced him by threatening to disclose his real character; thus proving themselves as good land-rats as he had been a water-rat.

Avery went again to Ireland, and from thence solicited the merchants very strongly, but to no purpose, so that he was reduced to utter beggary. Next we find him on board a trading vessel working his passage over to Plymouth, from whence he travelled on foot to Bideford. He had been there but a few days when he fell sick, and died, “not being worth as much money as would buy him a coffin.” Such was the end of a man who had, in his brief career, astonished and alarmed not merely the Great Mogul of all the Indies, and the great East India Company, but had become a hero of romance in Europe.

And now to return to the unfortunate sloops. Their provisions were nearly exhausted, and although fish and fowl were readily obtainable at Madagascar, whither they returned, they had no salt to cure them for a long voyage. They therefore made an encampment on the coast, where they were joined by other piratical Englishmen who had selected the island as a permanent place of settlement. When the pirates first settled there many of the native princes were very friendly, and the former, having fire-arms, which in those days the latter had not, often joined in the inter-tribal wars, carrying terror wherever they went. Half a dozen pirates with a small native army would put a much larger number of the enemy to flight, and they were therefore great personages, and were almost worshipped.

By these means they became in a little time very formidable, and such prisoners as they took in war were employed in cultivating the ground, and the most beautiful of the women they married; nor were they contented with one wife, but often adopted the practice of polygamy. The natural result was, that they separated, each of them choosing a convenient place for himself, where he lived in princely style, surrounded by his family, slaves, and dependents. Nor was it long before jarring interests excited them to draw the sword against each other, and they appeared in the field of battle, at the head of their respective clans as it were. In these civil wars their number and strength were very soon greatly lessened.

These pirates, in the strange manner elevated to the dignity of petty princes, and being destitute of honourable principles, used their power with the most wanton barbarity. The most trifling offences were punished with death; the victim was led to a tree, and instantly shot through the head. The negroes at length, exasperated by continual oppression, formed the determination to exterminate their masters in the course of a single night; and this was not apparently a very difficult matter to accomplish, so much were they divided. Fortunately, however, for them, a negro woman who was partial to them ran twenty miles in three hours, and warning them of their danger, they were united in arms to oppose the negroes before the latter had assembled. This narrow escape made them more cautious. By degrees the original stock of course died out, and when Captain Woods Rodgers called there about thirty years after, there were only eleven of them left, surrounded by a numerous progeny of half-breed children. The circumstance will remind our readers of the descendants of the mutineers of the _Bounty_ on Pitcairn Island.

A little later we find a remarkable pirate on the field of action. Captain Bartholomew Roberts seems at first to have been really averse to the line of life to which he afterwards took so kindly. When his commander, Captain Davis, a pirate, died, the crew, in solemn conclave, selected Roberts. He accepted the dignity, and told them that “since he had dipped his hands in muddy water, and must be a pirate, it was better being a commander than a private.” Very shortly afterwards he captured two vessels, the first Dutch and the second English. The crew of the latter joined him, and emptied and burned the vessel. On the Brazilian coast they were not successful, but among the West Indian Islands they encountered a fleet of forty-two sail of Portuguese ships, waiting for two men-of-war to convoy them. Roberts, with his one little vessel, determined to have one or more of them, and he sailed among the fleet, keeping the larger part of his men concealed. He steered his ship almost alongside one of them, hailed her, and ordered her master to come on board quietly, threatening to give no quarter if the least resistance were made, or even if a signal of distress were displayed. The Portuguese, perceiving a sudden flash of cutlasses on board the pirate ship—a _coup de théâtre_ arranged by Roberts—submitted at once. The newly-fledged pirate saluted the captain courteously, and told him that he should go scot-free if he indicated which was the richest ship in the fleet. He gladly pointed to a large vessel, and, although very much superior in size and apparent strength to his own, made towards her, carrying with him the poor Portuguese captain, for reasons which will at once appear. Coming alongside, Roberts made his unwilling prisoner ask in Portuguese how Seignior Capitano did, and to invite him on board, as he had a matter of great importance to impart. He was answered in the affirmative, but Roberts perceiving an unusual movement on board, and expecting that they meant to give him a broadside, forestalled them by pouring in a shower of shot, and then grappled, boarded, and took her. She proved herself a rich prize, laden with tobacco, sugar, skins, and a goodly number of golden moidores. Roberts was not long in securing the better part of her cargo, and speedily sailed away.

After touching at various points, they sailed for Newfoundland, entering the harbour of Trepassi with the black flags flying, and drums and trumpets sounding. The original account says that there were twenty-two “ships” lying there, but it probably means large fishing boats. The men aboard abandoned them, and the pirates burnt or sunk them all, besides doing enormous damage ashore. Roberts here took a small Bristol vessel, which he fitted and manned for his own service. Shortly afterwards he destroyed ten French “ships” (probably meaning, as before, large fishing boats) on the banks of Newfoundland, and after that a number of prizes of more value. At Martinique it had been the custom of Dutch traders, when they approached the island, to hoist their jacks. Roberts knew the signal, and imitated it, and the poor people believing that a profitable market was at hand, vied with each other who should first row out to the ship. As they one by one approached he fired into and sunk them, determined to do them as much damage as possible. This was in retaliation; he had heard that some cruisers had been sent out to punish him.

But the end of this brute was at hand. One morning, soon after leaving Martinique, while he was at breakfast, he was informed that a man-of-war was at hand. He took little notice, and his men were undetermined whether she was a Portuguese ship or a French vessel. As she came nearer, she, however, hoisted English colours, and proved to be the _Swallow_, a man-of-war of no inconsiderable size. Roberts knew his danger, but determined to get clear, or die in the attempt. A man on board, who was a deserter from the _Swallow_, informed him that she sailed best upon the wind, and that the pirate-ship should, therefore, go before it. The resolution was made to pass close to the _Swallow_ under all sail, and to receive her broadside before they returned a shot; if seriously injured, to run on the shore to which they were close; or, should both fail, to blow up together, and balk the enemy. The greater part of his men were at this time drunk, for they had captured a quantity of liquor not long before, and their brandy-courage was likely to prove of the Dutch order. Roberts was determined to die game, and dressed himself in his best uniform—a rich crimson damask waistcoat and breeches, and a red feather in his hat, a gold chain and diamond cross, two pairs of pistols in a silk sling hung over his shoulders, and his sword in hand. In short, he was just the typical kind of showy pirate of whom boys delight to read.

The _Swallow_ approached, and poured in her fire; Roberts hoisted the black flag, and passed her with all sail. But for a fatal mistake he might have got clear away; but either by bad steering, or in not keeping his vessel before the wind, she again came up very near him. He was preparing for action, when a grape-shot struck him directly in the throat, and he fell back dead on the tackles of a gun. The man at the helm, one Stephenson, not at first thinking he was wounded, swore at him, and upbraided him as a coward; but, almost immediately afterwards, when he found that his captain was indeed dead, burst into tears, and wished himself dead. The pirate-ship almost immediately surrendered. His men threw his body overboard, with all his finery and arms on, as he had repeatedly ordered during his lifetime. Thus, at about forty years of age, perished a brave and daring, though utterly reckless and unprincipled, man, who, under better auspices, might have been of the greatest service to his country.

One of the most remarkable pirates of the century was Captain Misson, who commenced life in the French navy. When on leave at Rome he met one Caraccioli, a priest, who had imbibed some peculiar religious and social views, and who was afterwards, through his influence, admitted on board the man-of-war on which he was then serving. Both on several occasions showed a considerable amount of bravery. Caraccioli was a very ambitious man, and freely aired his peculiar ideas before both his friend Misson and the crew. His social views were of the communistic order; he believed that every man had as much right to that which would properly support him as to the air he breathed, and that wealth and poverty were both wrong, and that the world needed remodelling. It will be understood that he considered himself one of the men to do it, and was by no means strict in his regard for the rightful property of others. In a word, he meant to reform as much of the world as possible by means of piracy!

So far, however, both men were serving in the legitimate navy of France, but an opportunity occurred of which they made the most. Off Martinique, their vessel, the _Victoire_, encountered an English man-of-war, the _Winchelsea_, and a smart engagement followed, during which the French captain and his four principal officers were killed. The master (presumably the navigating officer) would have struck, but Misson took up the sword, ordering Caraccioli to act as lieutenant, and, encouraging his men, fought for three hours, when the powder-magazine of the _Winchelsea_ exploded, and only one man, who died shortly afterwards, was saved for the moment. After this unexpected termination, Caraccioli came to Misson, saluting him as captain, and, in a very French manner, reminding him what Mahomet and Darius had become from very small beginnings, showed him how he might become sovereign of the Southern Seas, and enjoy a life of liberty. Misson, who probably did not need a great deal of convincing, agreed, and calling all hands together, told them that any who would not follow his fortunes should be set ashore at places whence they might easily return to France, but recommended them to adopt the freebooter’s life. One and all cried, “Vive le Capitaine Misson et son Lieutenant le savant Caraccioli,” and the _Victoire_ was at once transformed from a vessel of the royal navy of France to a pirate-ship.

The crew selected their officers; and then came the question as to what colours they should fight under. The boatswain advised black, as the most terrifying. Caraccioli strenuously opposed this, saying that they were no pirates, but men who were resolved to assert that liberty which nature had given them, and own no subjection to any one, further than for the common good of all; that they would wage war on the immensely rich, and defend the wretched. In short, he defined his mission as a kind of piratical knight-errantry. He was to be the Don Quixote of the ocean. He advised that, as they did not proceed upon the same grounds with pirates, who were men of dissolute lives and no principles, they should not adopt their colours. “Ours,” said he, “is a brave, a just, an innocent, and a noble cause—the cause of liberty.” He advised a white ensign, with the motto “For God and liberty” inscribed upon it. The valuable property on board was put under lock and key, for the general benefit. When the plate belonging to the late captain was going to the chest, the men unanimously voted it for Misson’s use. Misson then spoke to the assembled crew; and the observations of this moral robber are worthy of note. He said that, “since they had resolved unanimously to seize upon and defend their liberty, which ambitious men had usurped, and that this could not be esteemed by impartial judges other than a brave and just resolution, he was under an obligation to recommend to them a brotherly love to each other, the banishment of all private piques and grudges, and a strict agreement and harmony among themselves; that in throwing off the yoke of tyranny, of which the action spoke abhorrence, he hoped none would follow the example of tyrants, and turn his back upon justice; for when equity was trodden under foot, misery, confusion, and distrust naturally followed. He also advised them to remember that there was a Supreme Being, the adoration of whom reason and gratitude prompted us to, and our own interest would engage us ... to conciliate; that he was satisfied that men born and bred in slavery, by which their spirits were broken and made incapable of so generous a way of thinking; who, ignorant of their birthright, and the sweets of liberty, dance to the music of their chains—which was, indeed, the greater part of the inhabitants of the globe—would brand this generous crew with the invidious name of pirates, and think it meritorious to be instrumental in their destruction. Self-preservation, therefore, and not a cruel disposition, obliged him to declare war against all such as should refuse the entry of their ports, and against all who should not immediately surrender and give up what their necessities required; but in a more particular manner against all European ships and vessels as concluded implacable enemies. And I do now,” said he, “declare such war, and at the same time recommend to you, my comrades, a humane and generous disposition towards your prisoners, which will appear by so much more the effects of a noble soul, as we are satisfied we should not meet the same treatment should our ill-fortune, or more properly our disunion, or want of courage, give us up to their mercy.”

And strangest of all to tell, the pirate kept very closely to his creed. If he took a small vessel, he would often let it go, after taking from the crew their ammunition, or some comparatively trifling matters; he was generous with his prisoners, and always spared life, except in open fighting. Compared with some of the pirates whose lives have been recorded in these pages he was an angel of light. Perhaps nothing will better exemplify this than his conduct after taking a large Dutch ship, the _Nieuwstadt_, which had on board seventeen slaves and some gold-dust. He ordered them to be clothed, and told his men that trading in those of our own species could never be right. He ordered them to be divided among the messes, that they might sooner learn the French language. The Dutch prisoners soon developed their latent tendencies for hard swearing and drinking; and Misson found that his own men were becoming demoralised. He addressed them all on board, and gave them a most serious lecture on the sin of swearing.

Vessel after vessel was taken by him, the commanders of which were generally patted on the back by Misson for their gallant defence, and always treated with courteous hospitality. His greatest prize, among dozens of others, was a Portuguese vessel of fifty guns. The vessels were locked together. His crew found that instead of having it all their own way, they were vigorously attacked. Expecting no quarter, they contended fiercely, cleared the decks, and a number followed the Portuguese on board their own ship. Misson seeing this called out, “_Elle est à nous; à l’abordage!_” and a crowd of his men boarded. He engaged the captain, struck him so that he fell down the main-hatch, and the Portuguese almost immediately struck. Misson lost fifty-six men, and netted nearly £200,000 for himself and crew.(7)