Ballad Tales by Kevan Manwaring

Author:Kevan Manwaring
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9780750983198
Publisher: The History Press

Oh, God forgive me! How had I so quickly made the transition from virtuous youth to heartless, cut-throat murderer? Rarely did anyone escape our clutches alive. Some we forced to walk the plank. Sometimes we set a few off in a small boat, but without any means of survival. When we’d plundered all valuables from the ship it was set on fire, the dying victims being consumed in the flames. How many widows and orphans we made I know not. But the captain’s words rang in our ears: ‘dead men tell no tales’. At least there would be no one left alive to betray us before a judge.

The months stretched into years and we continued to rule the waves, getting away with our shameful deeds. Most of the time we confined ourselves to our old cruising ground, intercepting vessels bound to and from Cuba. After plundering a ship we’d retreat to a small island to count our treasures and drink rum. Not surprisingly, arguments often broke out.

We had considerable success until the summer of 1830. Then we conceived a plan to head to the Azores and thence to Spain, where we’d divide the spoils, go ashore, separate and each one seek a new life. But by then word about the Flying Cloud had reached the British government. Before we could implement our plan we were being chased by frigates and liners. At first we shook them off like flies. But one day a British man o’ war, the Dungeness, appeared over the horizon. This time we were not so lucky. Despite a full spread of sails we could not pull away. Instead the man o’ war edged ever closer until at last she fired a shot across our bows. We still sped ahead but then a chain shot hit our main mast and brought it crashing to the deck. Now we had no choice but to fight for our lives.

It hadn’t been long since we were laughing at the shrieks and groans of dying men and women, making fun of their agonised gestures. We weren’t laughing now. We were fighting to the death. We fought with courage and skill, now thrusting, now dodging, mad as demons on an anvil. We did not give up, even though we were outnumbered, even though our comrades were slaughtered all around us. The deck ran deep with crimson blood. Our swords and daggers flashed on until suddenly there was a loud explosion amidships and our vessel was ablaze.

By then Captain Moore and thirty of our men were slain.

Somehow, amid all that savagery, I survived. Would that I had not. For as soon as my weapons were snatched from me I was bound like a slave, bundled into the hold and sent, with my fellows, for trial in London Town; to Newgate, where I am now, writing this …

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