It is to be feared that honest and well-meaning men have not infrequently incurred the odium of posterity, not so much by reason of any enormities of which they have themselves been guilty, as because it has been their misfortune to be set to impossible tasks by employers or comrades, to whom they have been only too faithful. Few, if any, of such men have less deserved their fate than Captain Kidd, one of the unluckiest men that ever lived, who left this world on Friday the 23d of May, 1701, after woeful experiences at sea of the doings of an unruly crew, and on shore of the schemings of unscrupulous politicians and[4] lawyers at Boston, Newgate, the Old Bailey, and the Execution Dock at Wapping.

To most of those who woo her, reputation is a coy and fickle mistress. But she occasionally evinces a very embarrassing attachment to men and women, whose innate modesty and reticence have prompted them throughout their careers to give her as wide a berth as possible. She has clung most unfairly and pertinaciously for more than two centuries to poor Kidd, who in common with most men of his calling, had no desire whatever to obtrude himself on the public notice. This worthy, honest hearted, steadfast, much enduring sailor, a typical sea captain of his day, seems really to have done his best to serve his country and his employers according to his lights, in very difficult circumstances. His fatal mistake which brought all his sufferings on him was that he yielded to the solicitations, if not to the intimidations, of personages of higher rank than his own, who for their own ends induced[5] him against his better judgment to embark on an impossible enterprise, which after the manner of his kind he doggedly tried to carry through to the utmost of his ability, and in which he came nearer attaining success than could reasonably have been anticipated. For his pains, after giving himself into custody in reliance on the word and honour of his chief employer, a Whig nobleman, he was ignominiously executed and hung in chains, after nearly two years’ close incarceration, and has ever since been held up to execration as the arch pirate, who left behind him untold hoards of treasure taken from the murdered crews of peaceable merchantmen, and buried God knows where, on the innumerable coasts and keys of the West Indies, where they are popularly supposed to await discovery to this day. It would be difficult to conceive any wilder misrepresentation of the poor man’s doings.

Kidd seems to have been born in Scotland and to have spent the greater part of[6] his life in the American Colonies, neither of which circumstances was likely to stand him in good stead, either with the great men who employed him or with the London juries, by whom he was found guilty of murder and piracy. It is not alleged by his detractors that he had not borne an excellent character, until he was sent on his wild-goose chase after pirates, nor is there any reason to believe that he had any taste himself for piracy. On the contrary, it was his exemplary past conduct in this respect, in which he was certainly in advance of his time, which was the primary cause of his ruin, inasmuch as it induced the Earl of Bellamont, the Governor of New England, at the instigation of a local magnate, Colonel Livingstone, to select him as the most fitting instrument for the furtherance of the King’s alleged designs for the suppression of piracy, when at the mature age of fifty-two, he was living a reputable sea-faring life in easy circumstances, possessed of a ship of[7] his own, and married to a wife with a considerable fortune, settled in New York.

Bellamont was appointed Governor of New York by His Majesty King William the Third, early in the year 1695. Two years before he had been treasurer and receiver general of the late Queen Mary; but she had found it impossible to allow him to retain that post. In her diary of 1693 she writes: “Lord Bellamont behaved himself impertinently. I turned him out and was censured for it by all, which was no small vexation to me. But I could not be convinced that I was in the wrong, yet was sorry it was so understood.” That he was given to taking unjustifiable action on ill-grounded suspicions would appear from the fact that in the same year (1693) he had made himself ridiculous by a vexatious and abortive impeachment of the Lord Chancellor of Ireland, Lord Coningsby, and one of the Irish Lord Justices, Sir Charles Porter, both of whom he had arraigned for high[8] treason and other imaginary crimes and misdemeanors. The House of Commons, to whom he had presented his articles of impeachment, could not stomach proceedings so obviously calculated to bring it into contempt; and unanimously decided that the great majority of his accusations were absolutely groundless, while they declined to take any action on the remainder, considering the state of Ireland at the time when the alleged breaches of the law had taken place. It is of course impossible to say with certainty how far his ineptitude on this occasion, and the remembrance of the Queen’s dislike to the man, induced the King to offer him a colonial governorship. But he would be a bold man who would venture to deny that even in more modern times similar appointments have been offered to and accepted by men, whom their own party have found it convenient to rid Parliament of at any cost, without regard to the interests of the Colonies to which they have been[9] relegated. In those days colonial governorships were less sought after than they are now; and it was hopeless to expect any man of mark at home to accept one.

From an “Account of the proceedings in relation to Captain Kidd in two letters from a Person of Quality to a kinsman of the Earl of Bellamont,” published in 1701, the year of Kidd’s death, with the avowed object of vindicating the memory of Bellamont, who was then dead, it appears that New York had at that time, rightly or wrongly, earned a bad name in England. These letters, which so far as they appeared to whitewash Bellamont and Kidd’s other employers, were eagerly accepted and embellished by Macaulay, are historically interesting from the side lights which they throw on certain differences which had then arisen between England and her American Colonies, and were already paving the way for the separation of the Mother Country and her strongest child. Their writer begins[10] by informing his readers that “it was then well known that for several years two very pernicious things had been growing up in our American Colonies,—an unlawful trade in fraud of the Acts of Navigation and the Plantations, infinitely prejudicial to England, and the cursed practice of piracy, utterly destructive of all commerce.” “Many,” he tells us, “were insensibly drawn into these ill courses by observing what excessive wealth the offenders gained in a short time, and with what impunity they offended. For some Governors, having found a way to share in the profit, were obliged not only to connive at, but protect, the offenders.” This anonymous gentleman had often, he says, been told by Bellamont that His Majesty had done him the honour to say “that he thought him a man of resolution and integrity, and with these qualifications, more likely than any other he could then think of” (apparently from Bellamont’s own account of the interview the[11] King had not much time to waste in troubling himself about so unimportant a matter), “to put a stop to that illegal trade and to the growth of piracy, for which reason he had made choice of him as Governor of New York, and for the same reason intended to put the government of New England into his hands.”

It would therefore appear to be admitted by this gentleman that the primary object of the King in the selection of Bellamont was to secure the more rigorous enforcement of the Navigation and Plantation Acts. These Acts had been passed in the reign of Charles the Second, for the purpose of securing for England the monopoly of American trade, by preventing under heavy penalties any direct trade between the Colonists and their neighbors, French, Spanish, or Dutch, in the West Indies. They prohibited the import and export of goods into or from the plantations except in ships built in England; and provided for[12] the seizure and forfeiture of any other vessels employed in that trade and all goods found on board. It will readily be understood that, although this monopoly was regarded with great favour in England, it had been growing more and more unpopular with the Colonists, as their commerce and population increased, because their traffic with their neighbors was incommoded and hampered by it; the inevitable result being that the smuggling of goods into and out of the plantations had become a popular and lucrative and not very difficult business. Our Dutch King’s desire to check this smuggling was not unnatural, money being at that time urgently required by him for the prosecution of his French War.

Bellamont, appointed Governor of New England in July, 1695, seems to have been in no hurry to go out to America. The primary object of his appointment being the more rigid enforcement of the Navigation Acts, it may be that it was thought desirable[13] that he should be at hand during the passage through Parliament in the following year of the English Statute entitled “An Act for preventing frauds and regulating abuses in the Plantation Trade.” The Parliamentary draftsmen of those days had a pretty talent for invective exercisable on the instructions of those in power. In this case it was displayed not only in the preamble of the Act, but also in the recitals to several of the clauses. From these we learn that notwithstanding the Acts of King Charles the Second “made for the encouragement of the navigation of the kingdom and for the better securing and regulating the plantation trade, great abuses were daily committed to the detriment of the English navigation and the loss of a great part of the plantation trade, through the artifice and cunning of ill-disposed persons.” Amongst these artful, cunning, and ill-disposed persons, the pre-eminence is assigned to Scotchmen, who in that year were[14] in bad odour with the King, and projecting their unfortunate Darien expedition which, had it succeeded, might have hit the English trade far harder than any amount of smuggling could have done: “Great frauds and abuses,” we are told by the draftsman, “have been committed by Scotchmen and others in the plantation trade, by obtruding false and counterfeit certificates upon the government officers of having given security in this kingdom to bring the ladings of plantation goods to England, Wales, or the town of Berwick-upon-Tweed; as also certificates of having discharged their ladings of plantation goods in this kingdom pursuant to securities taken in the plantations, and also cocquets or certificates of having taken in their ladings of European goods in England, Wales, or Berwick-upon-Tweed, by means whereof they may carry the goods of Scotland and other places of Europe, without shipping the same in England, Wales, or Berwick-upon-Tweed to His Majesty’s[15] plantations, and also carry the goods of the plantations directly to Scotland or any other market in Europe without bringing the same to England, Wales, or Berwick-upon-Tweed.” To remedy these malpractices, a penalty of five hundred pounds was imposed by the Act on any person making use of such false cocquets and certificates. Every Colonial Governor was required to take a solemn oath to do his utmost, that all the clauses, matters, and things contained in the Navigation Acts should be punctually and bona fide observed; and on proof that any Governor had neglected to take this oath, or been wittingly or willingly negligent in doing his duty, he was to be removed from his government and fined one thousand pounds sterling. All naval officers in the plantations were required to give security to the Commissioners of Customs for the faithful performance of their duties, and until such securities had been given and approved by the Commissioners, the Governor was made[16] answerable for their defaults. The Act is very lengthy and verbose. But the above are its most important provisions.

Legislation of this sort was thoroughly in harmony with the policy pursued at that time by the Home Government in its dealings with the Colonies. Generations had yet to pass before any doubt as to its wisdom began to dawn in the minds of Englishmen. Had Bellamont’s instructions from his royal patron been confined to its furtherance, it would have been well for poor Kidd, and the reputations of Bellamont and sundry great personages in England. But they had, as has been seen, extended to the suppression of the alleged growth of piracy in New England. As a matter of fact, it may well be doubted whether piracy had, as alleged, been for several years on the increase in that part of the world. In the West Indies it had greatly diminished. Less than thirty years before, the buccaneers had been so numerous that, on receiving the[17] directions of King Charles the Second to stop their depredations on the Spaniards, they had in defiance of his orders stormed the Castle of Chagres; and marching thence across the Isthmus, more than a thousand strong, sacked and burnt Panama itself in the face of the organized forces of the Spaniards. Now the great Brotherhood of the Coast had practically ceased to exist. Such piracy as still lingered on amongst the English speaking race was for the most part limited to the eastern seas and consisted mainly in depredations on the shipping of Mussulmans, Armenians, and the natives of India, collectively termed by seamen Moors. Without in any way extenuating the practice of plundering these people, it is only right that we should bear in mind, in considering the case of Kidd and his crew, the belief then widely prevalent amongst Europeans that there was little if any impropriety or disgrace attaching to the ill-treatment and robbery of black men by white. Witness,[18] for example, the slave trade, and the conditions under which negroes were worked in the plantations. Moorish piracy still prevailed in the Mediterranean, attended by great cruelty to Europeans; and retaliation on the so-called Moors in the eastern seas must have seemed to the man in the street the most natural thing in the world. Darby Mullins, who was hung with Kidd, was no doubt voicing the opinion commonly held by seamen and others, not only in the plantations but in London and Bristol, when whilst expressing in his last moments to the Ordinary of Newgate his sincere contrition for his habits of swearing and cursing and profaning the Sabbath day, and his neglect to return thanks to his Creator for his preservation in an earthquake at Jamaica (sins of commission and omission which he regarded as really serious offences and for which he asked pardon), nevertheless protested in defence of his piracy under Culliford that “he had not known but that it[19] was very lawful” (as he said he had been told) “to plunder ships and goods belonging to the enemies of Christianity.” We may indeed be permitted to doubt, whether K............