VIWhen we sailed from the Groyne we had a deal of bread and a couple of hundred pair of woolen stockings; but, wanting beef and more bread, we stood for the Madeira Islands. The evil disposition of Mr. Every quickly showed its true kind, for we were sent aboard three English ships which lay at the islands and looted them under the pretense of giving receipts for the things we took, with promises of future payment. Mr. Every laughed a great deal at this.So too he laughed at our operations on the coast of Guinea, whither we went from the Madeiras. We sailed into Guinea Gulf under English colors solely to entice the poor, trusting negroes of the country aboard, who, when they came supposing we were to trade with them, were despoiled of their golden trinkets and thrown, chained together, into our hold.These captives we took from the mainland over to Prince’s Island, in the gulf, and marketed them with Dutch settlers. When it came to bring them up on deck we found the dead and the living sometimes chained together. It was a very great horror.Being now a proper pirate, Mr. Every at thisPrince’s Island fought two Dane ships. We fair surprised them, not a few of their men being alongshore. We ran to leeward of the larger one and, opening our ports, bit into him with twenty guns, the blow of our shot shaking two Danes out of the shrouds to their deck, like a couple of ripe plums from a tree. With good spirit the merchantmen made what shift they might with their half-dozen small pieces, but a musket shot killing the captain of the one we first attacked, both ships gave in.Our brave show and talk so affected some of these Danes that a score of them signed on with Mr. Every. Our one broadside so damaged the Danish brig that Mr. Every set her afire, and we stood by, watching the burning and cheering whenever a canister of powder blew up, Mr. Every standing on our poop, the red of the flames glaring on his face, nodding his head and laughing with himself.The smaller vessel we took with us, Mr. Every expecting to make himself a great admiral at the head of a great pirate fleet, though for sure it smirches the noble dignity of that honored title to give it to a miscreant so black.Many folk—not a few of them of the highest fashion—have come to Newgate Gaol to see the notorious Captain Every’s men, as if forsooth our feet were cleft like a goat’s or horns were hid beneath our forelocks. Some of these have said it was not ingenuous for us who served bycompulsion thus to engage in these villainous combats and sinful traffickings with slaves. Why, say they, did you not flee from Mr. Every at the first chance and return to England to make discovery of his crimes?There was no first, middle or last chance.And what a ship it was! In place of discipline there was a disorder very afflicting to an old king’s man. Each man counted himself the equal of the other, and although Mr. Every was a hard man and quick to strike, he was submitted to only because he was a navigator, and none could take the ship so well as he.But he could make no general move without having first a consult in which all hands took part until the confabulation sounded like a tree full of crows. We called a vote on everything,—the next place for depredation, the punishment of offenses aboard ship and the amount of plunder each man should get.This last was a bone for the dogs to growl and bite about, I can tell you. Newcomers like the Danes were for having as much from the bag as the men who had stolen the ship at the Groyne.“Nay,” said these; “not so, for we brought you the ship, and you give us nothing but your hands.”“Good,” quoth the recruits. “Then we can take ourselves off and you may have your ship and be hanged.”Thus the tree forked and on its opposite branches bore fruit of bitter will.The small Danish sloop we were taking with us from Prince’s Island made early harvest of the animosity among us. Mr. Every would keep her as a tender; others were for selling her so that they might paw some money.“If you sell her,” said certain ones, “what will be the shares of each?”Thereupon the quarrel flared up, and nothing could be agreed except that Mr. Every should have two shares; that is, if the highest share were one thousand pounds, Mr. Every should get two thousand pounds, but as to the rest there was no concord; the argument being as sharp as if the money for the sloop were already in the quartermaster’s coffer. The Frenchmen recruited at the Madeiras were for the arbitrament of the dirk, seeing which—and that it was time to act—Mr. Every ordered the twenty-pounder shotted and trained on the sloop. He cut the towline and said, “Give it her betwixt the wind and the water,” and thereupon old José, the Spanish gunner, hit her so neatly beneath her lowest ports that she was not atop the waves more than fifteen minutes.“Rather she sink than we,” said Mr. Every to the men, who now began to see that if they could not agree better the whole enterprise would be ruined.
When we sailed from the Groyne we had a deal of bread and a couple of hundred pair of woolen stockings; but, wanting beef and more bread, we stood for the Madeira Islands. The evil disposition of Mr. Every quickly showed its true kind, for we were sent aboard three English ships which lay at the islands and looted them under the pretense of giving receipts for the things we took, with promises of future payment. Mr. Every laughed a great deal at this.
So too he laughed at our operations on the coast of Guinea, whither we went from the Madeiras. We sailed into Guinea Gulf under English colors solely to entice the poor, trusting negroes of the country aboard, who, when they came supposing we were to trade with them, were despoiled of their golden trinkets and thrown, chained together, into our hold.
These captives we took from the mainland over to Prince’s Island, in the gulf, and marketed them with Dutch settlers. When it came to bring them up on deck we found the dead and the living sometimes chained together. It was a very great horror.
Being now a proper pirate, Mr. Every at thisPrince’s Island fought two Dane ships. We fair surprised them, not a few of their men being alongshore. We ran to leeward of the larger one and, opening our ports, bit into him with twenty guns, the blow of our shot shaking two Danes out of the shrouds to their deck, like a couple of ripe plums from a tree. With good spirit the merchantmen made what shift they might with their half-dozen small pieces, but a musket shot killing the captain of the one we first attacked, both ships gave in.
Our brave show and talk so affected some of these Danes that a score of them signed on with Mr. Every. Our one broadside so damaged the Danish brig that Mr. Every set her afire, and we stood by, watching the burning and cheering whenever a canister of powder blew up, Mr. Every standing on our poop, the red of the flames glaring on his face, nodding his head and laughing with himself.
The smaller vessel we took with us, Mr. Every expecting to make himself a great admiral at the head of a great pirate fleet, though for sure it smirches the noble dignity of that honored title to give it to a miscreant so black.
Many folk—not a few of them of the highest fashion—have come to Newgate Gaol to see the notorious Captain Every’s men, as if forsooth our feet were cleft like a goat’s or horns were hid beneath our forelocks. Some of these have said it was not ingenuous for us who served bycompulsion thus to engage in these villainous combats and sinful traffickings with slaves. Why, say they, did you not flee from Mr. Every at the first chance and return to England to make discovery of his crimes?
There was no first, middle or last chance.
And what a ship it was! In place of discipline there was a disorder very afflicting to an old king’s man. Each man counted himself the equal of the other, and although Mr. Every was a hard man and quick to strike, he was submitted to only because he was a navigator, and none could take the ship so well as he.
But he could make no general move without having first a consult in which all hands took part until the confabulation sounded like a tree full of crows. We called a vote on everything,—the next place for depredation, the punishment of offenses aboard ship and the amount of plunder each man should get.
This last was a bone for the dogs to growl and bite about, I can tell you. Newcomers like the Danes were for having as much from the bag as the men who had stolen the ship at the Groyne.
“Nay,” said these; “not so, for we brought you the ship, and you give us nothing but your hands.”
“Good,” quoth the recruits. “Then we can take ourselves off and you may have your ship and be hanged.”
Thus the tree forked and on its opposite branches bore fruit of bitter will.
The small Danish sloop we were taking with us from Prince’s Island made early harvest of the animosity among us. Mr. Every would keep her as a tender; others were for selling her so that they might paw some money.
“If you sell her,” said certain ones, “what will be the shares of each?”
Thereupon the quarrel flared up, and nothing could be agreed except that Mr. Every should have two shares; that is, if the highest share were one thousand pounds, Mr. Every should get two thousand pounds, but as to the rest there was no concord; the argument being as sharp as if the money for the sloop were already in the quartermaster’s coffer. The Frenchmen recruited at the Madeiras were for the arbitrament of the dirk, seeing which—and that it was time to act—Mr. Every ordered the twenty-pounder shotted and trained on the sloop. He cut the towline and said, “Give it her betwixt the wind and the water,” and thereupon old José, the Spanish gunner, hit her so neatly beneath her lowest ports that she was not atop the waves more than fifteen minutes.
“Rather she sink than we,” said Mr. Every to the men, who now began to see that if they could not agree better the whole enterprise would be ruined.