But, in fact, Lafitte never committed an act of piracy in his life; he
was a blacksmith, and knew no more about sailing a ship or even the
smallest kind of a boat than he knew about the proper construction of a
sonnet. He did not even try, like the celebrated Bonnet, to find other
people who would navigate a vessel for him, for he had no taste for the
ocean wave, and all that he had to do he did upon firm, dry land. It is
said of him that he was never at sea but twice in his life: once when he
came from France, and once when he left this country, and on neither
occasion did he sail under the "Jolly Roger," as the pirate flag was
sometimes called. For these reasons it seems scarcely right to call
Lafitte a pirate, but as he has been so generally considered in that
light, we will admit him into the bad company, the stories of whose
lives we are now telling.

The energy and business abilities of Jean Lafitte soon made themselves
felt not only in Barrataria, but in New Orleans. The privateers found
that he managed their affairs with much discretion and considerable
fairness, and, while they were willing to depend upon him, they were
obliged to obey him.

On the other hand, the trade of New Orleans was very much influenced by
the great quantities of goods which under Lafitte's directions were
smuggled into the city. Many merchants and shopkeepers who possessed no
consciences to speak of were glad to buy these smuggled goods for very
little money and to sell them at low prices and large profits, but the
respectable business men, who were obliged to pay market prices for
their goods, were greatly disturbed by the large quantities of
merchandise which were continually smuggled into New Orleans and sold at
rates with which they could not compete.

It was toward the end of our war with England, which began in 1812, that
the government of the United States, urged to speedy action by the
increasing complaints of the law-abiding merchants of New Orleans,
determined to send out a small naval force and entirely break up the
illegitimate rendezvous at Barrataria.

Lafitte's two brothers were in New Orleans acting as his agents, and one
of them, Dominique, was arrested and thrown into prison, and Commodore
Patterson, who was commanding at that station, was ordered to fit out an
expedition as quickly as possible to sail down to Barrataria to destroy
the ships found in the bay, to capture the town, and to confiscate and
seize upon all goods which might be found in the place.

When Jean Lafitte heard of the vigorous methods which were about to be
taken against him, his prospects must have been very gloomy ones, for
of course he could not defend his little colony against a regular naval
force, which, although its large vessels could not sail into the shallow
bay, could send out boats with armed crews against which it would be
foolish for him to contend. But just about this time a very strange
thing happened.

A strong English naval force had taken possession of Pensacola, Florida,
and as an attack upon New Orleans was contemplated, the British
commander, knowing of Lafitte's colony at Barrataria, and believing that
these hardy and reckless adventurers would be very valuable allies in
the proposed movement upon the city, determined to send an ambassador to
Lafitte to see what could be done in the way of forming an alliance with
this powerful leader of semi-pirates and smugglers.

Accordingly, the sloop of war _Sophia_, commanded by Captain Lockyer,
was sent to Barrataria to treat with Lafitte, and when this vessel
arrived off the mouth of the harbor, which she could not enter, she
began firing signal guns in order to attract the attention of the people
of the colony. Naturally enough, the report of the _Sophia's_ guns
created a great excitement in Barrataria, and all the people who
happened to be at the settlement at that time crowded out upon the beach
to see what they could see. But the war-vessel was too far away for them
to distinguish her nationality, and Lafitte quickly made up his mind
that the only thing for him to do was to row out to the mouth of the
harbor and see what was the matter. Without doubt he feared that this
was the United States vessel which had come to break up his settlement.
But whether this was the case or not, he must go out and try the effect
of fair words, for he had no desire whatever to defend his interests by
hard blows.

Before Lafitte reached the vessel he was surprised to find it was a
British man-of-war, not an American, and very soon he saw that a boat
was coming from it and rowing toward him. This boat contained Captain
Lockyer and two other officers, besides the men who rowed it; when the
two boats met, the captain told who he was, and asked if Mr. Lafitte
could be found in Barrataria, stating that he had an important document
to deliver to him. The cautious Frenchman did not immediately admit that
he was the man for whom the document was intended, but he said that
Lafitte was at Barrataria, and as the two boats rowed together toward
shore, he thought it would be as well to announce his position, and did
so.

When the crowd of privateersmen saw the officers in British uniform
landing upon their beach, they were not inclined to receive them kindly,
for an attack had been made upon the place by a small British force
some time before, and a good deal of damage had been done. But Lafitte
quieted the angry feelings of his followers, conducted the officers to
his own house, and treated them with great hospitality, which he was
able to do in fine style, for his men brought into Barrataria luxuries
from all parts of the world.

When Lafitte opened the package of papers which Captain Lockyer handed
to him, he was very much surprised. Some of them were general
proclamations announcing the intention of Great Britain if the people of
Louisiana did not submit to her demands; but the most important document
was one in which Colonel Nichols, commander-in-chief of the British
forces in the Gulf, made an offer to Lafitte and his followers to become
a part of the British navy, promising to give amnesty to all the
inhabitants of Barrataria, to make their leader a captain in the navy,
and to do a great many other good things, provided they would join his
forces, and help him to attack the American seaports. In case, however,
this offer should be refused, the Barratarians were assured that their
place would speedily be attacked, their vessels destroyed, and all their
possessions confiscated.

Lafitte was now in a state of great perplexity. He did not wish to
become a British captain, for his knowledge of horseshoeing would be of
no service to him in such a capacity; moreover, he had no love for the
British, and his sympathies were all on the side of the United States in
this war. But here he was with the British commander asking him to
become an ally, and to take up arms against the United States,
threatening at the same time to destroy him and his colony in case of
refusal. On the other hand, there was the United States at that moment
preparing an expedition for the purpose of breaking up the settlement at
Barrataria, and to do everything which the British threatened to do, in
case Lafitte did not agree to their proposals.

The chief of Barrataria might have made a poor show with a cutlass and a
brace of pistols, but he was a long-headed and sagacious man, with a
strong tendency to practical diplomacy. He was in a bad scrape, and he
must act with decision and promptness, if he wanted to get out of it.

The first thing he did was to gain time by delaying his answer to the
proposition brought by Captain Lockyer. He assured that officer that he
must consult with his people and see what they would do, and that he
must also get rid of some truculent members of the colony, who would
never agree to act in concert with England, and that therefore he should
not be able to give an answer to Colonel Nichols for two weeks. Captain
Lockyer saw for himself that it would not be an easy matter to induce
these independent and unruly fellows, many of whom already hated
England, to enter into the British service. Therefore he thought it
would be wise to allow Lafitte the time he asked for, and he sailed
away, promising to return in fifteen days.

The diplomatic Lafitte, having finished for a time his negotiations with
the British, lost no time in communicating with the American
authorities. He sent to Governor Claiborne, of Louisiana, all the
documents he had received from Captain Lockyer, and wrote him a letter
in which he told him everything that had happened, and thus gave to the
United States the first authentic information of the proposed attack
upon Mobile and New Orleans. He then told the Governor that he had no
intention of fighting against the country he had adopted; that he was
perfectly willing and anxious to aid her in every manner possible, and
that he and his followers would gladly join the United States against
the British, asking nothing in return except that all proceedings
against Barrataria should be abandoned, that amnesty should be given to
him and his men, that his brother should be released from prison, and
that an act of oblivion should be passed by which the deeds of the
smugglers of Barrataria should be condoned and forgotten.

Furthermore, he said that if the United States government did not
accede to his proposition, he would immediately depart from Barrataria
with all his men; for no matter what loss such a proceeding might prove
to him he would not remain in a place where he might be forced to act
against the United States. Lafitte also wrote to a member of the
Louisiana Legislature, and his letters were well calculated to produce a
very good effect in his favor.

The Governor immediately called a council, and submitted the papers and
letters received from Lafitte. When these had been read, two points were
considered by the council, the first being that the letters and
proclamations from the British might be forgeries concocted by Lafitte
for the purpose of averting the punishment which was threatened by the
United States; and the second, whether or not it would be consistent
with the dignity of the government to treat with this leader of pirates
and smugglers.

The consultation resulted in a decision not to have anything to do with
Lafitte in the way of negotiations, and to hurry forward the
preparations which had been made for the destruction of the dangerous
and injurious settlement at Barrataria. In consequence of this action of
the council, Commodore Patterson sailed in a very few days down the
Mississippi and attacked the pirate settlement at Barrataria with such
effect that most of her ships were taken, many prisoners and much
valuable merchandise captured, and the whole place utterly destroyed.
Lafitte, with the greater part of his men, had fled to the woods, and so
escaped capture.

Captain Lockyer at the appointed time arrived off the harbor of
Barrataria and blazed away with his signal guns for forty-eight hours,
but receiving no answer, and fearing to send a boat into the harbor,
suspecting treachery on the part of Lafitte, he was obliged to depart in
ignorance of what had happened.

When the papers and letters which had been sent to Governor Claiborne by
Lafitte were made public, the people of Louisiana and the rest of the
country did not at all agree with the Governor and his council in regard
to their decision and their subsequent action, and Edward Livingston, a
distinguished lawyer of New York, took the part of Lafitte and argued
very strongly in favor of his loyalty and honesty in the affair.

Even when it was discovered that all the information which Lafitte had
sent was perfectly correct, and that a formidable attack was about to be
made upon New Orleans, General Jackson, who was in command in that part
of the country, issued a very savage proclamation against the British
method of making war, and among their wicked deeds he mentioned nothing
which seemed to him to be worse than their endeavor to employ against
the citizens of the United States the band of "hellish banditti"
commanded by Jean Lafitte!

But public opinion was strongly in favor of the ex-pirate of the Gulf,
and as things began to look more and more serious in regard to New
Orleans, General Jackson was at last very glad, in spite of all that he
had said, to accept the renewed offers of Lafitte and his men to assist
in the defence of the city, and in consequence of his change of mind
many of the former inhabitants of Barrataria fought in the battle of New
Orleans and did good work. Their services were so valuable, in fact,
that when the war closed President Madison issued a proclamation in
which it was stated that the former inhabitants of Barrataria, in
consequence of having abandoned their wicked ways of life, and having
assisted in the defence of their country, were now granted full pardon
for all the evil deeds they had previously committed.

Now Lafitte and his men were free and independent citizens of the United
States; they could live where they pleased without fear of molestation,
and could enter into any sort of legal business which suited their
fancy, but this did not satisfy Lafitte. He had endeavored to take a
prompt and honest stand on the side of his country; his offers had been
treated with contempt and disbelief; he had been branded as a deceitful
knave, and no disposition had been shown to act justly toward him until
his services became so necessary to the government that it was obliged
to accept them.

Consequently, Lafitte, accompanied by some of his old adherents,
determined to leave a country where his loyalty had received such
unsatisfactory recognition, and to begin life again in some other part
of the American continent. Not long after the war he sailed out upon the
Gulf of Mexico,--for what destination it is not known, but probably for
some Central American port,--and as nothing was ever heard of him or his
party, it is believed by many persons that they all perished in the
great storm which arose soon after their departure. There were other
persons, however, who stated that he reached Yucatan, where he died on
dry land in 1826.

But the end of Lafitte is no more doubtful than his right to the title
given to him by people of a romantic turn of mind, and other persons of
a still more fanciful disposition might be willing to suppose that the
Gulf of Mexico, indignant at the undeserved distinction which had come
to him, had swallowed him up in order to put an end to his pretension to
the title of "The Pirate of the Gulf."




Chapter XXXI

The Pirate of the Buried Treasure


Among all the pirates who have figured in history, legend, or song,
there is one whose name stands preГ«minent as the typical hero of the
dreaded black flag. The name of this man will instantly rise in the mind
of almost every reader, for when we speak of pirates we always think of
Captain Kidd.

In fact, however, Captain Kidd was not a typical pirate, for in many
ways he was different from the ordinary marine freebooter, especially
when we consider him in relation to our own country. All other pirates
who made themselves notorious on our coast were known as robbers,
pillagers, and ruthless destroyers of life and property, but Captain
Kidd's fame was of another kind. We do not think of him as a pirate who
came to carry away the property of American citizens, for nearly all the
stories about him relate to his arrival at different points on our
shores for the sole purpose of burying and thus concealing the rich
treasures which he had collected in other parts of the world.

This novel reputation given a pirate who enriched our shore by his
deposits and took away none of the possessions of our people could not
fail to make Captain Kidd a most interesting personage, and the result
has been that he has been lifted out of the sphere of ordinary history
and description into the region of imagination and legendary romance. In
a word, he has been made a hero of fiction and song. It may be well,
then, to assume that there are two Captain Kidds,--one the Kidd of
legend and story, and the other the Kidd of actual fact, and we will
consider, one at a time, the two characters in which we know the man.

As has been said before, nearly all the stories of the legendary Captain
Kidd relate to his visits along our northern coast, and even to inland
points, for the purpose of concealing the treasures which had been
amassed in other parts of the world.

Thus if we were to find ourselves in almost any village or rural
settlement along the coast of New Jersey or Long Island, and were to
fall in with any old resident who was fond of talking to strangers, he
would probably point out to us the blackened and weather-beaten ribs of
a great ship which had been wrecked on the sand bar off the coast during
a terrible storm long ago; he would show us where the bathing was
pleasant and safe; he would tell us of the best place for fishing, and
probably show us the high bluff a little back from the beach from which
the Indian maiden leaped to escape the tomahawk of her enraged lover,
and then he would be almost sure to tell us of the secluded spot where
it was said Captain Kidd and his pirates once buried a lot of treasure.

If we should ask our garrulous guide why this treasure had not been dug
up by the people of the place, he would probably shake his head and
declare that personally he knew nothing about it, but that it was
generally believed that it was there, and he had heard that there had
been people who had tried to find it, but if they did find any they
never said anything about it, and it was his opinion that if Captain
Kidd ever put any gold or silver or precious stones under the ground on
that part of the coast these treasures were all there yet.

Further questioning would probably develop the fact that there was a
certain superstition which prevented a great many people from
interfering with the possible deposits which Captain Kidd had made in
their neighborhood, and although few persons would be able to define
exactly the foundation of the superstition, it was generally supposed
that most of the pirates' treasures were guarded by pirate ghosts. In
that case, of course, timid individuals would be deterred from going
out by themselves at night,--for that was the proper time to dig for
buried treasure,--and as it would not have been easy to get together a
number of men each brave enough to give the others courage, many of the
spots reputed to be the repositories of buried treasure have never been
disturbed.

In spite of the fear of ghosts, in spite of the want of accurate
knowledge in regard to favored localities, in spite of hardships,
previous disappointments, or expected ridicule, a great many extensive
excavations have been made in the sands or the soil along the coasts of
our northern states, and even in quiet woods lying miles from the sea,
to which it would have been necessary for the pirates to carry their
goods in wagons, people have dug and hoped and have gone away sadly to
attend to more sensible business, and far up some of our rivers--where a
pirate vessel never floated--people have dug with the same hopeful
anxiety, and have stopped digging in the same condition of dejected
disappointment.

Sometimes these enterprises were conducted on a scale which reminds us
of the operations on the gold coast of California. Companies were
organized, stock was issued and subscribed for, and the excavations were
conducted under the direction of skilful treasure-seeking engineers.

It is said that not long ago a company was organized in Nova Scotia for
the purpose of seeking for Captain Kidd's treasures in a place which it
is highly probable Captain Kidd never saw. A great excavation having
been made, the water from the sea came in and filled it up, but the work
was stopped only long enough to procure steam pumps with which the big
hole could be drained. At last accounts the treasures had not been
reached, and this incident is mentioned only to show how this belief in
buried treasures continues even to the present day.

There is a legend which differs somewhat from the ordinary run of these
stories, and it is told about a little island on the coast of Cape Cod,
which is called Hannah Screecher's Island, and this is the way its name
came to it.

Captain Kidd while sailing along the coast, looking for a suitable place
to bury some treasure, found this island adapted to his purpose, and
landed there with his savage crew, and his bags and boxes, and his gold
and precious stones. It was said to be the habit of these pirates,
whenever they made a deposit on the coast, to make the hole big enough
not only to hold the treasure they wished to deposit there, but the body
of one of the crew,--who was buried with the valuables in order that his
spirit might act as a day and night watchman to frighten away people who
might happen to be digging in that particular spot.

The story relates that somewhere on the coast Captain Kidd had captured
a young lady named Hannah, and not knowing what to do with her, and
desiring not to commit an unnecessary extravagance by disposing of a
useful sailor, he determined to kill Hannah, and bury her with the
treasure, in order that she might keep away intruders until he came for
it.

It was very natural that when Hannah was brought on shore and found out
what was going to be done with her, she should screech in a most
dreadful manner, and although the pirates soon silenced her and covered
her up, they did not succeed in silencing her spirit, and ever since
that time,--according to the stories told by some of the older
inhabitants of Cape Cod,--there may be heard in the early dusk of the
evening the screeches of Hannah coming across the water from her little
island to the mainland.

Mr. James Herbert Morse has written a ballad founded upon this peculiar
incident, and with the permission of the author we give it here:--

          THE LADY HANNAH.

    "Now take my hand," quoth Captain Kidd,
      "The air is blithe, I scent the meads."
    He led her up the starlit sands,
      Out of the rustling reeds.

    The great white owl then beat his breast,
      Athwart the cedars whirred and flew;
    "There's death in our handsome captain's eye"
      Murmured the pirate's crew.

    And long they lay upon their oars
      And cursed the silence and the chill;
    They cursed the wail of the rising wind,
      For no man dared be still.

    Of ribald songs they sang a score
      To stifle the midnight sobs and sighs,
    They told wild tales of the Indian Main,
      To drown the far-off cries.

    But when they ceased, and Captain Kidd
      Came down the sands of Dead Neck Isle,
    "My lady wearies," he grimly said,
      "And she would rest awhile.

    "I've made her a bed--'tis here, 'tis there,
      And she shall wake, be it soon or long,
    Where grass is green and wild birds sing
      And the wind makes undersong.

    "Be quick, my men, and give a hand,
      She loved soft furs and silken stuff,
    Jewels of gold and silver bars,
      And she shall have enough.

    "With silver bars and golden ore,
      So fine a lady she shall be,
    A many suitor shall seek her long,
      As they sought Penelope.

    "And if a lover would win her hand,
      No lips e'er kissed a hand so white,
    And if a lover would hear her sing,
      She sings at owlet light.

    "But if a lover would win her gold,
      And his hands be strong to lift the lid,
    'Tis here, 'tis there, 'tis everywhere--
      In the chest," quoth Captain Kidd.

    They lifted long, they lifted well,
      Ingots of gold, and silver bars,
      And silken plunder from wild, wild wars,
    But where they laid them, no man can tell,
      Though known to a thousand stars.

But the ordinary Kidd stories are very much the same, and depend a good
deal upon the character of the coast and upon the imagination of the
people who live in that region. We will give one of them as a sample,
and from this a number of very good pirate stories could be manufactured
by ingenious persons.

It was a fine summer night late in the seventeenth century. A young man
named Abner Stout, in company with his wife Mary, went out for a walk
upon the beach. They lived in a little village near the coast of New
Jersey. Abner was a good carpenter, but a poor man; but he and his wife
were very happy with each other, and as they walked toward the sea in
the light of the full moon, no young lovers could have been more gay.

When they reached a little bluff covered with low shrubbery, which was
the first spot from which they could have a full view of the ocean,
Abner suddenly stopped, and pointed out to Mary an unusual sight. There,
as plainly in view as if it had been broad daylight, was a vessel lying
at the entrance of the little bay. The sails were furled, and it was
apparently anchored.

For a minute Abner gazed in utter amazement at the sight of this vessel,
for no ships, large or small, came to this little lonely bay. There was
a harbor two or three miles farther up the coast to which all trading
craft repaired. What could the strange ship want here?

This unusual visitor to the little bay was a very low and very long,
black schooner, with tall masts which raked forward, and with something
which looked very much like a black flag fluttering in its rigging. Now
the truth struck into the soul of Abner. "Hide yourself, Mary," he
whispered. "It is a pirate ship!" And almost at the same instant the
young man and his wife laid themselves flat on the ground among the
bushes, but they were very careful, each of them, to take a position
which would allow them to peep out through the twigs and leaves upon the
scene before them.

There seemed to be a good deal of commotion on board the black schooner,
and very soon a large boat pushed off from her side, and the men in it
began rowing rapidly toward the shore, apparently making for a spot on
the beach, not far from the bluff on which Abner and Mary were
concealed. "Let us get up and run," whispered Mary, trembling from head
to toe. "They are pirates, and they are coming here!"

"Lie still! Lie still!" said Abner. "If we get up and leave these
bushes, we shall be seen, and then they will be after us! Lie still, and
do not move a finger!"

The trembling Mary obeyed her husband, and they both lay quite still,
scarcely breathing, with eyes wide open. The boat rapidly approached the
shore. Abner counted ten men rowing and one man sitting in the stern.
The boat seemed to be heavily loaded, and the oarsmen rowed hard.

Now the boat was run through the surf to the beach, and its eleven
occupants jumped out. There was no mistaking their character. They were
true pirates. They had great cutlasses and pistols, and one of them was
very tall and broad shouldered, and wore an old-fashioned cocked hat.

"That's Captain Kidd," whispered Abner to his wife, and she pressed his
hand to let him know that she thought he must be right.

Now the men came up high upon the beach, and began looking about here
and there as if they were searching for something. Mary was filled with
horror for fear they should come to that bluff to search, but Abner knew
there was no danger of that. They had probably come to those shores to
bury treasure, as if they were great sea-turtles coming up upon the
beach to lay their eggs, and they were now looking for some good spot
where they might dig.

Presently the tall man gave some orders in a low voice, and then his men
left him to himself, and went back to the boat. There was a great pine
tree standing back a considerable distance from the water, battered and
racked by storms, but still a tough old tree. Toward this the pirate
captain stalked, and standing close to it, with his back against it, he
looked up into the sky. It was plain that he was looking for a star.
There were very few of these luminaries to be seen in the heavens, for
the moon was so bright. But as Abner looked in the direction in which
the pirate captain gazed, he saw a star still bright in spite of the
moonlight.

With his eyes fixed upon this star, the pirate captain now stepped
forward, making long strides. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven.
Then he stopped, plunged his right heel in the soft ground, and turned
squarely about to the left, so that his broad back was now parallel
with a line drawn from the pine tree to the star.

At right angles to this line the pirate now stepped forward, making as
before seven long paces. Then he stopped, dug his heel into the ground,
and beckoned to his men. Up they came running, carrying picks and
spades, and with great alacrity they began to dig at the place where the
captain had marked with his heel.

It was plain that these pirates were used to making excavations, for it
was not long before the hole was so deep that those within it could not
be seen. Then the captain gave an order to cease digging, and he and all
the pirates went back to the boat.

For about half an hour,--though Mary thought it was a longer time than
that,--those pirates worked very hard carrying great boxes and bags from
the boat to the excavation. When everything had been brought up, two of
the pirates went down into the hole, and the others handed to them the
various packages. Skilfully and quickly they worked, doubtless storing
their goods with great care, until nearly everything which had been
brought from the boat had been placed in the deep hole. Some rolls of
goods were left upon the ground which Mary thought were carpets, but
which Abner believed to be rich Persian rugs, or something of that
kind.

Now the captain stepped aside, and picking up from the sand some little
sticks and reeds, he selected ten of them, and with these in one hand,
and with their ends protruding a short distance above his closed
fingers, he rejoined his men. They gathered before him, and he held out
toward them the hand which contained the little sticks.

"They're drawing lots!" gasped Abner, and Mary trembled more than she
had done yet.

Now the lots were all drawn, and one man, apparently a young pirate,
stepped out from among his fellows. His head was bowed, and his arms
were folded across his manly chest. The captain spoke a few words, and
the young pirate advanced alone to the side of the deep hole.

Mary now shut her eyes tight, tight; but Abner's were wide open. There
was a sudden gleam of cutlasses in the air; there was one short,
plaintive groan, and the body of the young pirate fell into the hole.
Instantly all the other goods, furs, rugs, or whatever they were, were
tumbled in upon him. Then the men began to shovel in the earth and sand,
and in an incredibly short time the hole was filled up even with the
ground about it.

Of course all the earth and sand which had been taken out of the hole
could not now be put back into it. But these experienced treasure-hiders
knew exactly what to do with it. A spadeful at a time, the soil which
could not be replaced was carried to the sea, and thrown out into the
water, and when the whole place had been carefully smoothed over, the
pirates gathered sticks and stones, and little bushes, and great masses
of wild cranberry vines, and scattered them about over the place so that
it soon looked exactly like the rest of the beach about it.

Then the tall captain gave another low command, the pirates returned to
their boat, it was pushed off, and rapidly rowed back to the schooner.
Up came the anchor, up went the dark sails. The low, black schooner was
put about, and very soon she was disappearing over the darkening waters,
her black flag fluttering fiercely high above her.

"Now, let us run," whispered poor Mary, who, although she had not seen
everything, imagined a great deal; for as the pirates were getting into
their boat she had opened her eyes and had counted them, and there were
only nine beside the tall captain.

Abner thought that her advice was very good, and starting up out of the
brushwood they hastened home as fast as their legs would carry them.

[Illustration: "Two of the pirates went down into the hole."--p. 302.]

The next day Abner seemed to be a changed man. He had work to do, but he
neglected it. Never had such a thing happened before! For hours he sat
in front of the house, looking up into the sky, counting one, two,
three, four, five, six, seven. Then he would twist himself around on
the little bench, and count seven more.

This worthy couple lived in a small house which had a large cellar, and
during the afternoon of that day Abner busied himself in clearing out
this cellar, and taking out of it everything which it had contained. His
wife asked no questions. In her soul she knew what Abner was thinking
about.

Supper was over, and most of the people in the village were thinking of
going to bed, when Abner said to Mary, "Let us each take a spade, and I
will carry a pail, and we will go out upon the beach for a walk. If any
one should see us, they would think that we were going to dig for
clams."

"Oh, no, dear Abner!" cried Mary. "We must not dig there! Think of that
young pirate. Almost the first thing we would come to would be him!"

"I have thought of that," said Abner; "but do you not believe that the
most Christian act that you and I could do would be to take him out and
place him in a proper grave near by?"

"Oh, no!" exclaimed Mary, "do not say such a thing as that! Think of his
ghost! They killed him and put him there, that his ghost might guard
their treasure. You know, Abner, as well as I do, that this is their
dreadful fashion!"

"I know all about that," said Abner, "and that is the reason I wish to
go to-night. I do not believe there has yet been time enough for his
ghost to form. But let us take him out now, dear Mary, and lay him
reverently away,--and then!" He looked at her with flashing eyes.

"But, Abner," said she, "do you think we have the right?"

"Of course we have," said he. "Those treasures do not belong to the
pirates. If we take them they are treasure-trove, and legally ours. And
think, dear Mary, how poor we are to-night, and how rich we may be
to-morrow! Come, get the pail. We must be off."

Running nearly all the way,--for they were in such a hurry they could
not walk,--Abner and Mary soon reached the bluff, and hastily scrambling
down to the beach below, they stood upon the dreadful spot where Captain
Kidd and his pirates had stood the night before. There was the old
battered pine tree, reaching out two of its bare arms encouragingly
toward them.

Without loss of time Abner walked up to the tree, put his back to it,
and then looked up into the sky. Now he called Mary to him. "Which star
do you think he looked at, good wife?" said he. "There is a bright one
low down, and then there is another one a little higher up, and farther
to the right, but it is fainter."

"It would be the bright one, I think," said Mary. And then Abner, his
eyes fixed upon the bright star, commenced to stride. One, two, three,
four, five, six, seven. Turning squarely around to the left he again
made seven paces. And now he beckoned vigorously to Mary to come and
dig.

For about ten minutes they dug, and then they laid bare a great mass of
rock. "This isn't the place," cried Abner. "I must begin again. I did
not look at the right star. I will take the other one."

For the greater part of that night Abner and Mary remained upon the
beach. Abner would put his back against the tree, fix his eyes upon
another star, stride forward seven paces, and then seven to the left,
and he would come upon a little scrubby pine tree. Of course that was
not the place.

The moon soon began to set, and more stars came out, so that Abner had a
greater choice. Again and again he made his measurements, and every time
that he came to the end of his second seven paces, he found that it
would have been impossible for the pirates to make their excavation
there.

There was clearly something wrong. Abner thought that he had not
selected the right star, and Mary thought that his legs were not long
enough. "That pirate captain," quoth she, "had a long and manly stride.
Seven of his paces would go a far greater distance than seven of yours,
Abner."

Abner made his paces a little longer; but although he and his wife kept
up their work until they could see the early dawn, they found no spot
where it would be worth while to dig, and so mournfully they returned to
their home and their empty cellar.

As long as the moonlight lasted, Abner and Mary went to the little beach
at the head of the bay, and made their measurements and their searches
but although they sometimes dug a little here and there, they always
found that they had not struck the place where the pirate's treasure had
been buried.

When at last they gave up their search, and concluded to put their
household goods back into their cellar, they told the tale to some of
the neighbors, and other people went out and dug, not only at the place
which had been designated, but miles up and down the coast, and then the
story was told and retold, and so it has lasted until the present day.

What has been said about the legendary Captain Kidd will give a very
good idea of the estimation in which this romantic being has been, and
still is, held in various parts of the country, and, of all the
legitimate legends about him, there is not one which recounts his
piratical deeds upon our coast. The reason for this will be seen when we
consider, in the next chapter, the life and character of the real
Captain Kidd.




Chapter XXXII

The Real Captain Kidd


William Kidd, or Robert Kidd, as he is sometimes called, was a sailor in
the merchant service who had a wife and family in New York. He was a
very respectable man and had a good reputation as a seaman, and about
1690, when there was war between England and France, Kidd was given the
command of a privateer, and having had two or three engagements with
French vessels he showed himself to be a brave fighter and a prudent
commander.

Some years later he sailed to England, and, while there, he received an
appointment of a peculiar character. It was at the time when the King of
England was doing his best to put down the pirates of the American
coast, and Sir George Bellomont, the recently appointed Governor of New
York, recommended Captain Kidd as a very suitable man to command a ship
to be sent out to suppress piracy. When Kidd agreed to take the position
of chief of marine police, he was not employed by the Crown, but by a
small company of gentlemen of capital, who formed themselves into a sort
of trust company, or society for the prevention of cruelty to
merchantmen, and the object of their association was not only to put
down pirates, but to put some money in their own pockets as well.

Kidd was furnished with two commissions, one appointing him a privateer
with authority to capture French vessels, and the other empowering him
to seize and destroy all pirate ships. Kidd was ordered in his mission
to keep a strict account of all booty captured, in order that it might
be fairly divided among those who were stockholders in the enterprise,
one-tenth of the total proceeds being reserved for the King.

Kidd sailed from England in the _Adventure_, a large ship with thirty
guns and eighty men, and on his way to America he captured a French ship
which he carried to New York. Here he arranged to make his crew a great
deal larger than had been thought necessary in England, and, by offering
a fair share of the property he might confiscate on piratical or French
ships, he induced a great many able seamen to enter his service, and
when the _Adventure_ left New York she carried a crew of one hundred and
fifty-five men.

With a fine ship and a strong crew, Kidd now sailed out of the harbor
with the ostensible purpose of putting down piracy in American waters,
but the methods of this legally appointed marine policeman were very
peculiar, and, instead of cruising up and down our coast, he gayly
sailed away to the island of Madeira, and then around the Cape of Good
Hope to Madagascar and the Red Sea, thus getting himself as far out of
his regular beat as any New York constable would have been had he
undertaken to patrol the dominions of the Khan of Tartary.

By the time Captain Kidd reached that part of the world he had been at
sea for nearly a year without putting down any pirates or capturing any
French ships. In fact, he had made no money whatever for himself or the
stockholders of the company which had sent him out. His men, of course,
must have been very much surprised at this unusual neglect of his own
and his employers' interests, but when he reached the Red Sea, he boldly
informed them that he had made a change in his business, and had decided
that he would be no longer a suppressor of piracy, but would become a
pirate himself; and, instead of taking prizes of French ships
only,--which he was legally empowered to do,--he would try to capture
any valuable ship he could find on the seas, no matter to what nation it
belonged. He then went on to state that his present purpose in coming
into those oriental waters was to capture the rich fleet from Mocha
which was due in the lower part of the Red Sea about that time.

The crew of the _Adventure_, who must have been tired of having very
little to do and making no money, expressed their entire approbation of
their captain's change of purpose, and readily agreed to become pirates.

Kidd waited a good while for the Mocha fleet, but it did not arrive, and
then he made his first venture in actual piracy. He overhauled a Moorish
vessel which was commanded by an English captain, and as England was not
at war with Morocco, and as the nationality of the ship's commander
should have protected him, Kidd thus boldly broke the marine laws which
governed the civilized world and stamped himself an out-and-out pirate.
After the exercise of considerable cruelty he extorted from his first
prize a small amount of money; and although he and his men did not gain
very much booty, they had whetted their appetites for more, and Kidd
cruised savagely over the eastern seas in search of other spoils.

After a time the _Adventure_ fell in with a fine English ship, called
the _Royal Captain_, and although she was probably laden with a rich
cargo, Kidd did not attack her. His piratical character was not yet
sufficiently formed to give him the disloyal audacity which would enable
him with his English ship and his English crew, to fall upon another
English ship manned by another English crew. In time his heart might be
hardened, but he felt that he could not begin with this sort of thing
just yet. So the _Adventure_ saluted the _Royal Captain_ with
ceremonious politeness, and each vessel passed quietly on its way. But
this conscientious consideration did not suit Kidd's crew. They had
already had a taste of booty, and they were hungry for more, and when
the fine English vessel, of which they might so easily have made a
prize, was allowed to escape them, they were loud in their complaints
and grumblings.

One of the men, a gunner, named William Moore, became actually
impertinent upon the subject, and he and Captain Kidd had a violent
quarrel, in the course of which the captain picked up a heavy iron-bound
bucket and struck the dissatisfied gunner on the head with it. The blow
was such a powerful one that the man's skull was broken, and he died the
next day.

Captain Kidd's conscience seems to have been a good deal in his way; for
although he had been sailing about in various eastern waters, taking
prizes wherever he could, he was anxious that reports of his misdeeds
should not get home before him. Having captured a fine vessel bound
westward, he took from her all the booty he could, and then proceeded
to arrange matters so that the capture of this ship should appear to be
a legal transaction. The ship was manned by Moors and commanded by a
Dutchman, and of course Kidd had no right to touch it, but the
sharp-witted and business-like pirate selected one of the passengers and
made him sign a paper declaring that he was a Frenchman, and that he
commanded the ship. When this statement had been sworn to before
witnesses, Kidd put the document in his pocket so that if he were called
upon to explain the transaction he might be able to show that he had
good reason to suppose that he had captured a French ship, which, of
course, was all right and proper.

Kidd now ravaged the East India waters with great success and profit,
and at last he fell in with a very fine ship from Armenia, called the
_Quedagh Merchant_, commanded by an Englishman. Kidd's conscience had
been growing harder and harder every day, and he did not now hesitate to
attack any vessel. The great merchantman was captured, and proved to be
one of the most valuable prizes ever taken by a pirate, for Kidd's own
share of the spoils amounted to more than sixty thousand dollars. This
was such a grand haul that Kidd lost no time in taking his prize to some
place where he might safely dispose of her cargo, and get rid of her
passengers. Accordingly he sailed for Madagascar. While he was there he
fell in with the first pirate vessel he had met since he had started out
to put down piracy. This was a ship commanded by an English pirate named
Culliford, and here would have been a chance for Captain Kidd to show
that, although he might transgress the law himself, he would be true to
his engagement not to allow other people to do so; but he had given up
putting down piracy, and instead of apprehending Culliford he went into
partnership with him, and the two agreed to go pirating together.

This partnership, however, did not continue long, for Captain Kidd began
to believe that it was time for him to return to his native country and
make a report of his proceedings to his employers. Having confined his
piratical proceedings to distant parts of the world, he hoped that he
would be able to make Sir George Bellomont and the other stockholders
suppose that his booty was all legitimately taken from French vessels
cruising in the east, and when the proper division should be made he
would be able to quietly enjoy his portion of the treasure he had
gained.

He did not go back in the _Adventure_, which was probably not large
enough to carry all the booty he had amassed, but putting everything on
board his latest prize, the _Quedagh Merchant_, he burned his old ship
and sailed homeward.

When he reached the West Indies, however, our wary sea-robber was very
much surprised to find that accounts of his evil deeds had reached
America, and that the colonial authorities had been so much incensed by
the news that the man who had been sent out to suppress piracy had
become himself a pirate, that they had circulated notices throughout the
different colonies, urging the arrest of Kidd if he should come into any
American port. This was disheartening intelligence for the
treasure-laden Captain Kidd, but he did not despair; he knew that the
love of money was often as strong in the minds of human beings as the
love of justice. Sir George Bellomont, who was now in New York, was one
of the principal stockholders in the enterprise, and Kidd hoped that the
rich share of the results of his industry which would come to the
Governor might cause unpleasant reports to be disregarded. In this case
he might yet return to his wife and family with a neat little fortune,
and without danger of being called upon to explain his exceptional
performances in the eastern seas.

Of course Kidd was not so foolish and rash as to sail into New York
harbor on board the _Quedagh Merchant_, so he bought a small sloop and
put the most valuable portion of his goods on board her, leaving his
larger vessel, which also contained a great quantity of merchandise, in
the charge of one of his confederates, and in the little sloop he
cautiously approached the coast of New Jersey. His great desire was to
find out what sort of a reception he might expect, so he entered
Delaware Bay, and when he stopped at a little seaport in order to take
in some supplies, he discovered that there was but small chance of his
visiting his home and his family, and of making a report to his superior
in the character of a deserving mariner who had returned after a
successful voyage. Some people in the village recognized him, and the
report soon spread to New York that the pirate Kidd was lurking about
the coast. A sloop of war was sent out to capture his vessel, and
finding that it was impossible to remain in the vicinity where he had
been discovered, Kidd sailed northward and entered Long Island Sound.

Here the shrewd and anxious pirate began to act the part of the watch
dog who has been killing sheep. In every way he endeavored to assume the
appearance of innocence and to conceal every sign of misbehavior. He
wrote to Sir George Bellomont that he should have called upon him in
order to report his proceedings and hand over his profits, were it not
for the wicked and malicious reports which had been circulated about
him.

It was during this period of suspense, when the returned pirate did not
know what was likely to happen, that it is supposed, by the believers in
the hidden treasures of Kidd, that he buried his coin and bullion and
his jewels, some in one place and some in another, so that if he were
captured his riches would not be taken with him. Among the wild stories
which were believed at that time, and for long years after, was one to
the effect that Captain Kidd's ship was chased up the Hudson River by a
man-of-war, and that the pirates, finding they could not get away, sank
their ship and fled to the shore with all the gold and silver they could
carry, which they afterwards buried at the foot of Dunderbergh Mountain.
A great deal of rocky soil has been turned over at different times in
search of these treasures, but no discoveries of hidden coin have yet
been reported. The fact is, however, that during this time of anxious
waiting Kidd never sailed west of Oyster Bay in Long Island. He was
afraid to approach New York, although he had frequent communication with
that city, and was joined by his wife and family.