The Pirates Own Book (53 page)

The stories of these two men are so interwoven with others, that it
will be impossible to distinguish many of their particular actions. They
were, however, proved to have been concerned, if not the principal
actors, in the following piracies: first, the seizing a Dutch ship in
August, 1722, and taking from thence a hundred pieces of Holland, value
800
l
.; a thousand pieces of eight, value 250
l
. Secondly, the
entering and pillaging the Dolphin of London, William Haddock, out of
which they got three hundred pieces of eight, value 75
l
.; forty
gallons of rum, and other things, on the twentieth of November in the
same year. Thirdly, the stealing out of a ship called the Don Carlos,
Lot Neekins, master, four hundred ounces of silver, value 100
l
. fifty
gallons of rum, value 30
s
. a thousand pieces of eight, a hundred
pistoles, and other valuable goods. And fourthly, the taking from a ship
called the England, ten pipes of wine, value 250
l
. The two last
charges both in the year 1721. Weaver returned home, and came to Mr.
Thomas Smith, at Bristol, in a very ragged condition; and pretending
that he had been robbed by pirates, Smith, who had been acquainted with
him eight or nine years before, provided him with necessaries, and he
walked about unmolested for some time. But Captain Joseph Smith, who
knew him when a pirate, one day met him, and asked him to go and take a
bottle with him; when they were in the tavern he told him that he had
been a considerable sufferer by his boarding his vessel "therefore,"
said he, "as I understand that you are in good circumstances, I expect
that you will make me some restitution; which if you do, I will never
hurt a hair of your head, because you were very civil to me when I was
in your hands." But as this recompense was never given. Weaver was
apprehended and executed.

To the mast nail our flag it is dark as the grave,
Or the death which it bears while it sweeps o'er the wave;
Let our deck clear for action, our guns be prepared;
Be the boarding-axe sharpened, the scimetar bared:
Set the canisters ready, and then bring to me,
For the last of my duties, the powder-room key.
It shall never be lowered, the black flag we bear;
If the sea be denied us, we sweep through the air.
Unshared have we left our last victory's prey;
It is mine to divide it, and yours to obey:
There are shawls that might suit a sultana's white neck,
And pearls that are fair as the arms they will deck;
There are flasks which, unseal them, the air will disclose
Diametta's fair summers, the home of the rose.
I claim not a portion: I ask but as mine—
'Tis to drink to our victory—one cup of red wine.
Some fight, 'tis for riches—some fight, 'tis for fame:
The first I despise, and the last is a name.
I fight, 'tis for vengeance! I love to see flow,
At the stroke of my sabre, the life of my foe.
I strike for the memory of long-vanished years;
I only shed blood where another shed tears,
I come, as the lightning comes red from above,
O'er the race that I loathe, to the battle I love.

[1]
"Farewell, all."

[2]
His real name was William Kidd.