The ship thieves were not fifty men, all tallied; yet with their control of our ordnance, fusees and small arms they could terrify the remaining hundred people into obedience to their horrid designs. Less than one in ten aboard could read and write, being for the more part ignorant seamen, easily deceived and commanded. Not only did Mr. Every and his wicked fellows steal a ship, but they kidnapped a crew.
VI
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 this Prince’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 by compulsion 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.