Why William Kidd Buried His Pirate Treasure
William Kidd's early life remains shrouded in mystery, but what is known is that he was born around 1645 in Dundee, Scotland.
He began his career at sea as a privateer beginning in 1689, when he set sail for the eastern coast of North America and the Caribbean to attack French vessels. Privateering was the then legal practice of capturing enemy ships in times of war.
As captain of the Blessed William, Kidd participated in the attack on Marie-Galante, a French island in the Caribbean, in December 1689. However, in February 1690, his crew mutinied and stole his ship while he was ashore. Despite this setback, Kidd managed to acquire another ship, the Antigua, and pursued the Blessed William to New York in 1691.
Kidd then settled in Manhattan and married the wealthy widow Sarah Oort in May of that year. He raised two daughters and built a reputation as a respectable merchant but also engaged in small-scale privateering on the side. However, Kidd was not content with his current lifestyle and sought out bigger and more lucrative opportunities. In 1695, he sailed to London in the Antigua to secure financial backing for his future privateering expeditions.
Once in London, Kidd joined forces with Robert Livingston, an American entrepreneur, and Richard Coote, the Earl of Bellomont, who had just been appointed as the new governor of New York and Massachusetts. Together, they sought out investors who were eager to attack French shipping and plunder pirate vessels in the Indian Ocean. This consortium included some of the highest-ranking officials in the British Admiralty and judiciary, and their plan was to keep any captured loot for themselves, rather than return it to its rightful owners. The enterprise was secretive, underhand and fraught with danger but had the potential for immense reward. The privateering expedition was even given the royal assent from King William III of England who was promised 10% of the profits.
With so many powerful and wealthy backers investing in the venture, it was decided to commission a purpose-built vessel for the expedition. The Adventure Galley, was built in Deptford in London and set sail with Kidd at the helm for New York in April 1696. The expedition did not get off to a great start, as some of Kidd’s crew decided to mock and jaunt a passing Royal Navy vessel as their ship was sailing down the Thames. This act of insubordination cost Kidd 30 of his most experienced crew members, who were press ganged into the service of the Royal Navy. After spending the summer in New York recruiting a rabble of less than desirable replacements for the men he had lost, Kidd then recrossed the Atlantic in September and sailed around the Cape of Good Hope into the Indian Ocean.
Once he arrived off the coast of Madagascar however, both Kidd and his crew became disappointed after failing to locate any of the pirates that they had expected to encounter there. Further opportunities to capture vessels similarly did not materialise and soon the crew of the Adventure Galley began to openly threat of mutiny to their captain.
It was at this point, perhaps in an act of desperation, that Kidd decided to forgo the rules of engagement set out in his privateering expedition and turn pirate himself. He sailed north towards the Arabian Sea hoping to target one of the Mughal pilgrim fleets sailing from India to Mecca but he had little success there either. By September, the Adventure Galley was cruising off the western coast of India, managing to attack a few passing merchant vessels and raiding local settlements near the shoreline but the spoils from these were relatively immaterial.
With tensions on board the Adventure Galley now at boiling point over the lack of prizes being taken, one of the crew, a gunner named William Moore, openly cursed and mocked Kidd for his seeming incompetence as captain of the ship. Kidd responded by picking up a bucket and striking Moore over the head with it. He died the next day.
Having staved off a possible mutiny, Kidd’s luck began to improve shortly afterwards with the capture of a French merchant ship Rouparelle, which he took possession of and renamed November.
As the year passed into January 1698, Kidd was presented with the opportunity he had been hoping for since the start of the expedition. The 400-ton Quedah Merchant, an Indian owned vessel that had been hired by Armenian merchants, with an English captain and a mostly Indian crew. Although crucially, it was under the protection of the French East India Company with letters guaranteeing it’s safe passage. It was this technicality that made the Quedah Merchant a legitimate target for Kidd’s privateering commission of capturing enemy French shipping.
On board the Quedah Merchant was a cargo of of silk, calico, sugar, iron, and opium which was speedily sold to finance the return journey back to England. Kidd kept the vessel, renaming it the Adventure Prize and along with the November and Adventure Galley, headed for a stopover in Madagascar once again.
Unbeknown to Kidd at the time, the Nine Years’ War had ended the previous September of 1697, effectively null and voiding his privateering commission and thus making the capture of the Quedah Merchant an act of piracy. Additionally, the multiple nationalities on board the Quedah Merchant made it’s seizure an international political dilemma for the English government, who quickly faced mounting pressure from the Mughal Emperor and the East India Company, whose presence in India was now under threat, to apprehend those responsible. With few other options available to calm the diplomatic tension, the English government openly declared Kidd and his crew to be pirates.
Whilst on Madagascar in April 1698, the majority of Kidd’s crew deserted him for another pirate, Robert Culliford, who as it turned out was one of Kidd’s old ship mates who had mutinied and stolen the Blessed William from his command in February 1690. Being left with only a skeleton crew of 13 men, Kidd then decided to abandon the Adventure Galley and return home to New York in the Adventure Prize.
As part of the fallout from the capture of the Quedah Merchant and in an effort to reduce the overall levels of piracy in the region, the English government issued a royal pardon for all pirates operating in the Indian Ocean, with the specific exemption of William Kidd, as well as Henry Every. Whilst stopping off in Anguilla on his journey home in April 1699, Kidd learned that he was now a wanted man for piracy and that he would not be granted a pardon if he handed himself in. His only hope of a reprieve would be to call for the aid of one of the sponsors of the initial expedition; the Governor of New York and Massachusetts, Richard Coote, the Earl of Bellomont. Realising the Adventure Prize was now a marked vessel, Kidd sold it along with some of his remaining plunder and continued to New York in a small sloop.
Before arriving in New York, Kidd is reported to have buried some of his treasure on Gardiner Island, perhaps in the hope of returning to it once he had been declared innocent. When he finally reached New York, he was told that Governor Bellomont was away on business in Boston and that he should meet him there with the promise of receiving a pardon. The promise would turn out to be a false one. Aware of the gravity of the situation against a man wanted for piracy, Governor Bellomont sought to distance himself as much as possible from Kidd and his own position as an investor in the expedition. No sooner had Kidd arrived in Boston, on the 6th July 1699, the Governor had him arrested and thrown in prison before being transported to London in April 1700 to stand trial.
Like Governor Bellomont, the other investors in Kidd’s expedition remained silent for fear of being indicted in the whole affair. Because of the murky nature of the venture, blurring the line between legitimate privateering and illegal piracy, the investors all remained anonymous on paper, however, they were known to include high ranking officials within the British Admiralty, as well as establishment figures from the then Whig government. By the time of Kidd’s capture, a new Tory government had been formed and they were eager to discredit their political rivals who had backed the expedition. They sought to use Kidd as a tool and have him name those involved but he remained silent, confident that his backers would come to the rescue if he kept quiet.
Having failed to implicate any others in the expedition, Kidd was deemed politically useless and sent to Newgate Prison to await trial before the High Court of the Admiralty. Despite having 2 lawyers to assist his defence, Kidd’s trial was somewhat of a sham. He was surprised to learn that he was being principally charged with the murder of William Moore on board the Adventure Galley, as well as numerous acts of piracy. Kidd professed his innocence; sighting that he only resorted to piracy in order to keep his crew from mutinying against him and that the death of Moore was purely accidental. Additionally, the seizing of the two French flagged merchant ships; Rouparelle and Quedah Merchant, were in his eyes legitimate targets, as the provisions set out within his privateering commission permitted him to capture any French flagged vessels that he came across. Conveniently, the letters on board these two ships, which evidenced that they were under the protection French East India Company and which proved Kidd’s version of events, were lost. What’s more, far from rewarding his loyalty for maintaining their anonymity, Kidd’s backers did little to help his defence and quietly withdrew their support entirely. He was subsequently found guilty of all charges and sentenced to death.
On the 23rd May 1701, Kidd was brought to Execution Dock on the bank of the river Thames to be hanged. In what was perhaps the last twist in the tale of Kidd’s unfortunate and unlucky life as a pirate, the rope which was placed around his neck snapped as he was pushed from the gallows. Some in the crowd that had gathered to watch his final moments pleaded for his release, seeing his escape from death to be a merciful sign from God. The hangman was having none of it and Kidd was strung up again for a second and final time only minutes later. His lifeless body was then tarred and gibbeted in a cage at Tilbury Point, to serve as a warning for the fate that awaited any would be pirates.
William Kidd’s legacy is more often remembered today for his supposed buried treasure, rather than his actual exploits as a pirate. The loot which he buried on Gardiner Island was quickly uncovered by contemporaries but rumours of further buried treasure circulated after his death and soon spurred the growth of his legend which still persists to this day.