Chapter III: Part 3

The COURT said—In a case of this kind I am not disposed to limit you in your rights to your client, or the government in their right toward the prosecution.

The JUDGE, in addressing the District Attorney, said—Mr. Hunt, it must be a very strong case, indeed, that will induce the Court to grant any further delay for this witness. I will adjourn till to-morrow morning at ten o’clock, and the case must then proceed, unless some imperative reason is shown to the Court why it should not.

After the usual caution to the jury, the Court adjourned.

FIFTH DAY.

At the meeting of the court this morning, some delay was occasioned by the absence of the leading counsel for the prisoner.

Mr. SAYLES, junior counsel for the prisoner, said—May it please the Court, my associate, Mr. Graves, is not present. I have learned that he went to Twenty-seventh street to see his uncle last night, and I have not seen him since. I would therefore ask a short delay.

The COURT.—There may have been some accident; you had better send and inquire. The Court will wait a few minutes.

Mr. C. H. Hunt, the Assistant District Attorney, said, if the Court please, this will not, of course, prevent our doing all we proposed to do. We have to inform the Court that Capt. Nickerson, whose testimony we were anxious to obtain, has not arrived, and we do not suppose we shall have his testimony to-day. It is proper I should state, also, that we have never regarded his testimony as indispensable in any sense, for if we had we would not have consented to proceed with the trial without his being present. We have, however, regarded his testimony as very important, as giving completeness to the chain of facts which we had it in our power to present to the Court and jury; and in this view of the case perhaps we were anxious that the testimony should not be submitted on the part of the government without that link in the chain; and we were desirous of doing what, as I understand it, is the duty of the government, of presenting all the facts that it is in our power to present, before calling upon the prisoner for his defence. These are the reasons which influenced the prosecution in asking for the delay which has been granted; and we now feel that we have done all we could to procure this testimony, in order to give the evidence such completeness as is in our power, and we do not now feel like asking the Court for any further delay in order to procure the testimony of Capt. Nickerson. We are obliged to the Court for granting the delay asked for yesterday, and we now, under the circumstances, rest the case on the part of the government, and leave the evidence for the prosecution as it now stands.

The COURT.—It appears that Mr. Graves, the senior counsel for the prisoner, is not in attendance, and for some reason probably for which he is not responsible. The Court will wait a reasonable time for him.

Ex-Judge ROOSEVELT, United States District Attorney, said—During this short interval I should remark, in addition to what has been said by Mr. Hunt, that upon looking over this case, although I took no part in it in open court, that the prosecution came to the conclusion that this testimony was entirely unnecessary, though relevant; and the only reason why any delay should have been asked, and the only reason why any delay should have been granted, was to follow out the usage founded on good sense and on humanity—that usage which has been regarded, not by strict law, but by a species of courtesy, that the government, being the stronger party, should not, at the outset, take sides, as it were, but develop the entire case, whether they lay before the court items which may be deemed by them not to be very important, because it might so happen to the mind of the court and the minds of the jurors, that those items, which we might deem not important, should seem to be very necessary to make out the case. I did not consider the testimony of Captain Nickerson in any other light than in completing the history of the case. On the other side, they had a right to object to the introduction of what Captain Nickerson had sworn to before the commissioner, and it was perfectly proper they should do so, unless the evidence was introduced in the regular way. On our part we have endeavored to do our full duty to the court, to the prisoner, and to the public. We have tried to give every element, every item of evidence in the case that had the slightest bearing upon it; and I would now say, to avoid any misapprehension, that it does not arise from any idea of the weakness of the case by any means; but it is to fill out, if possible, the usage of the courts in criminal cases. But we are unable to procure this witness; he probably is on the ocean now, for he sailed from Philadelphia for Boston last week, and is now at sea. If, however, he should arrive in the course of the day, it will be for the court to say whether it will take his testimony or not, and for the prisoner’s counsel as to whether they will object to it or not.

The COURT.—It appears to me that this is a proper view of the case taken by the United States Attorney. It is the duty of the government, especially in a case of high crime—such a case as the prisoner is charged with—to lay before the court and jury all the evidence they have in their power, or that they are cognizant of, which has any connection with or bearing on the case; and, as the court intimated yesterday, whatever may be its opinions in relation to the necessity of the evidence, such as Captain Nickerson’s might be, it would be very improper for the court to intimate it at this stage of the trial.

Mr. SAYLES (prisoner’s counsel).—I experienced some reluctance in asking the court a further delay for the purpose of this trial. It has already been delayed, on the part of the government, for an entire day. I would, however, on the present occasion, ask the court to take a recess until twelve o’clock, to accommodate the defendant, in order that I may ascertain where my partner is, or that I may procure counsel to associate with me. Mr. Graves went last evening to see his uncle in Twenty-seventh street, and I have not seen or heard of him. I would say, in addition, that Mr. Graves has my brief in his possession.

The JUDGE said that the Court was very indulgent to both sides, in consequence of the importance of the case, both to the public and the prisoner, and although he is very anxious to dispose of the case as soon as practicable, yet he would grant a delay until twelve o’clock.

On the reassembling of the Court, Mr. Sayles said he expected his associate every minute, and he desired to consult with him as to the production of witnesses. He would now call Mr. Commissioner White as to the testimony of a witness named Downes, in describing the position of the sloop.

KENNETH G. WHITE, United States Commissioner, called and examined by Mr. Sayles, deposed—My impression is that a witness named Downes was before me on the preliminary examination; I cannot recollect the particulars of his testimony without referring to my minutes. (Minutes produced.) I do not see in my minutes any designation made by Mr. Downes as to where the vessel was; there are two marks on the chart, one of which was made by Mr. Downes in court.

EDWARD BARNES, called for defence, deposed—He resides in Keyport; knew Capt. Burr; gave him $100 for oysters; this was on the 15th of March; I gave him the money in quarters and halves, and ten and five cent pieces; I do not know what amount of money he had with him; he told me Mr. Simmons gave him $200.

The COURT said that was not evidence.

He put it in a bag; it made the bag about half full; I cannot identify the bag.

Mr. SAYLES then said they had no other witness for the defence, and he then proceeded to address the Court and jury on behalf of the prisoner. He commenced by describing the sensation created in this city by the intelligence of this transaction, and that the public press had given a description of and directed the eye of the community to this one man. He then suggested that this tragedy may have been perpetrated by river thieves who have been driven to the lower bay by the Harbor Police, and who, perhaps, committed a similar one on another sloop on the same night. Counsel said, in cases of admiralty this court had a limited and special jurisdiction, derived from the laws of Congress passed under the Constitution of our country, which gives power to define and punish felony and piracy on the high seas. This court, therefore, had so much power, and no more. It had no common law jurisdiction. (He then cited several authorities.) He claimed that a portion of that act of Congress was unconstitutional; that Congress had no right to define and punish felonies on the high seas; it has no power to take away the rights of individual States to punish the crime for which this man stands charged. It was committed beyond the jurisdiction of the court, and it had no power to punish for this felony. He then read a reported case where an act of piracy had been committed in Boston harbor, and in which it was held that it should be tried in the courts of that State.

The COURT remarked that this was not a question for the jury, but should have been raised on demurrer, or might be brought up on a motion in arrest of judgment.

Mr. SAYLES submitted that the jury were the judges of the law and the facts.

The COURT.—Not on questions of jurisdiction. Those questions are always for the Court—for its decision.

Mr. SAYLES contended that “on the high seas” meant either in the harbor of some foreign country, or beyond any portion of a coast where the sea ebbs and flows.

The COURT remarked that this was the opinion of English lawyers, but did not apply to American laws.

Mr. SAYLES said—We have adopted the English common law.

The COURT.—Only to a limited extent.

Mr. SAYLES then cited from “Chitty’s Criminal Law,” vol. iii., which says, “that the piracy must be distinctly proved to have been committed on the high seas, or the defendant is entitled to an acquittal.” According to that law the admiralty had no jurisdiction within the limits of any county or city. The counsel then proceeded to appeal to the reason of the jury, and lay the facts before them. It was a case of great importance, not only to the federal government and to the community, but also to the unfortunate prisoner at the bar, and he called upon the jury to elevate their minds above outside prejudices. A supposed tragedy had been committed in the lower bay, and the government had undertaken to show, by circumstantial evidence, that this is the man who perpetrated it. Counsel referred to the nature of circumstantial evidence, and alluded to the recent case in this court, where some half dozen witnesses swore positively to a man named Williams for post-office robbery, and subsequently swore as positively against another man, who was convicted.

Mr. HUNT, in reply, directed the court in support of the jurisdiction of the United States courts over the lower bay.

Mr. GRAVES, for the defence, referred to the case of the two Bournes, in Vermont, who confessed to the crime of murder, but were afterward proved to be innocent. The evidence against Hicks was entirely circumstantial, and of such a character as to render it very uncertain; but the most astonishing thing about the prosecution was the charge that this one man should kill these three men, powerful as they were, and not receive a single scratch. There must have been a terrible struggle; blood was spattered over the ceiling, blood everywhere, but no blood on him, no mark of violence on his person.

Mr. HUNT remarked that the only questions of law upon which there had been any dispute, were ruled upon by the Court, and he had nothing further to say.

Mr. DWIGHT then proceeded to sum up on the part of the government. He had hoped that there might have been some chance of the innocence of the prisoner found in the course of the trial. But he had been disappointed; nothing which had been asserted by the witnesses for the prosecution had been contradicted. No attempt had been made to break any one link in the chain of the evidence. The defence would endeavor to induce the jury to believe that Capt. Burr parted with his watch, which he had carried for nine years, to a pawnbroker; that Smith Watts had parted with the clothes which his aged mother had put up for him; that Oliver Watts had parted with the daguerreotype of the girl he loved. The time had not yet come when Yankee sailor boys gave up the pictures of “the girls they left behind them” without a struggle. Mr. Dwight then clearly and concisely reviewed the whole case and the testimony, giving a painful but graphic description of that dread night when this triple deed of blood was perpetrated, and concluded thus: Gentlemen, I have occupied your time longer than I intended, and I have but one word further to say. If this prisoner is not proven guilty of the crime against him, he is of course an innocent man. If there is in the breast of any of you one doubt concerning his guilt—one reasonable doubt as to his having committed this robbery of George H. Burr, as set forth in the indictment, in God’s name give him the benefit of that doubt. It is his sacred privilege, and it is just as much his right as he has a right to his life or his liberty. If you have any doubt upon considering the evidence, give him the benefit of that doubt, or any which you may have. But, gentlemen, if through the five days of this trial there has crept into your minds a conviction that he is the man, and if that conviction has been strengthened by the evidence which has been adduced and placed before you—that no other but he had committed this crime, then I say that his conviction is the property of the government, and I charge you to give it to the government. Here, in your seats, where you have sat during these five days listening to the opening and the testimony, and the closing upon the part of the government—here, in your very seats, I charge you to give the benefit of your conviction to the government, and I charge you to do this in your jury box without any hesitation. Gentlemen, there was no hesitation on his part; with that sharp axe he cut down the fair-haired boy, Watts; and then returned and felled the other: and then the death struggle with the captain occurred. Gentlemen, there was no hesitation there; and if you are convinced of his guilt, let there be no hesitation in your rendering in your jury box a verdict against him. There cries from the sands of Islip, “justice;” from that widow and from that mother. There comes up from the depths of the Atlantic, “from all the ships that float on it, and all that go down in the great deep”—there comes the cry of “justice.” The prisoner equally calls upon you to do justice; and gentlemen, I ask you, in the name of the government, if you believe him guilty of this crime, which he committed speedily, summarily and devilishly, that you will let your verdict be speedy, summary and just.

During the whole of Mr. DWIGHT’S address, which occupied nearly an hour, the prisoner was still unmoved; he never winced, but coolly twisted and turned a pen in his hand, pointing it to the table, and scarcely once looked up.

JUDGE SMALLEY said it was now past four o’clock, and he desired to look into some authorities which had been referred to; he would not charge the jury until morning.

The COURT then adjourned to Saturday morning, at ten o’clock. The prisoner was removed, in irons, by Deputy Marshals De Angelis and Dugan, who had special charge of him, and who kept a sharp watch that he should have no means of suicidal death at hand, nor make any effectual effort to escape.

The court-room was, as it had been every day during this extraordinary trial, densely crowded.

SIXTH DAY.

THE VERDICT.

JUDGE SMALLEY charged the jury. He instructed them that the case was clearly within the jurisdiction of the Court, the occurrence having taken place in the harbor. The jury retired at 10:36, and after having been out seven minutes, returned and announced that they had agreed upon a verdict. The prisoner was directed to stand up, which he did readily, exhibiting little or no emotion. In a scarcely audible voice the foreman then announced that the jury found him GUILTY of the crime with which he was charged. Hicks appeared to be somewhat stupefied by the announcement, but resumed his seat again when the counsel told him to. The Court then remanded him for sentence, and he quietly held out his hands for the handcuffs. His counsel, Mr. Eagles, then asked the Court to set some time in which to make a motion for arrest of judgment. Judge Smalley designated 10 A.M. on Wednesday as the time for making such motion. Hicks was then conducted back to the Tombs by the officers having him in charge.

A motion for a new trial was afterward argued and denied. Immediately after decision, the sentence of DEATH was passed upon him, the day fixed for his execution being FRIDAY, the 13th of July, on BEDLOE’S ISLAND.

THE
CONFESSION OF ALBERT W. HICKS,
PIRATE AND MURDERER.

OFFICE U. S. MARSHAL, _Southern District of New York_.

I hereby certify that the within Confession of ALBERT W. HICKS was
made by him to me, and that it is the only confession made by him.

LORENZO DE ANGELIS, _Deputy U. S. Marshal_.

_July 9, 1860._

After his sentence, Hicks seemed to lose that firmness which he had hitherto manifested. His reckless indifference left him, and in place of the stolid look which had marked his face from the time of his arrest, an appearance of deep anxiety gave token that he had abandoned the hope which had supported him, and that dread of his approaching fate, if not remorse for his crimes, had taken possession of him.

He seemed to dread being left alone, and often besought his keeper and the warden of the prison to keep him company in his cell. He was frequently found in tears, and on being questioned as to the cause of his grief, expressed a deep anxiety in regard to the future of his wife and child, about fifteen months old.

He was often begged to make a free confession of his crimes, and though at first he stoutly denied having anything to confess, he at last sent for Mr. De Angelis, and offered not only to confess the crime of which he stood convicted, but also to give a history of his whole life in detail, from his childhood up to the time of his arrest, on condition that the confession should not be published until the day of his execution, and that all the proceeds arising from its sale should be given to his wife.

This was agreed to by Mr. De Angelis, and accordingly, on the 13th of June, that gentleman, accompanied by an amanuensis, visited Hicks in his cell, and there listened to his confession, which is given below in the precise order in which he related it, though not in his own words, his command of language being exceedingly limited. The true spirit of the narrative is strictly preserved, however, and wild, monstrous, and terrible as the details are, there is no doubt of their truth.

After Mr. De Angelis and the amanuensis had taken seats, Hicks being seated upon his iron bedstead, proceeded as follows:

I can stand it no longer. I had hoped that I should carry the secrets of my life with me to my grave. I never thought that I should sit here in my cell crying like a baby, over the remembrance of the past, or that my heart would flinch at meeting any fate in store for me.

I fancied I bore a charmed life, and that having heretofore escaped so many dangers, I should find some loop-hole through which to creep now, or that something would turn up in my favor which would lead to my escape from the mesh into which I had fallen.

I have long felt as though I were the Devil’s own, and that though he had served me so many years, I must at last be his; yet I imagined he would not claim me yet, but allow me to do his work for a time longer. He has stood by me all my life, on ship and on shore, amid the howling storms of the ocean, where every moment the waves threatened to ingulf me; he has snatched me from their deadly embrace on the battle-field, in many a hand-to-hand fight; he has seemed to stand by my side protecting me from danger; and when I have been in the hands of my enemies, and escape has appeared impossible, he has, until now, invariably opened the way for my release. But at last he has deserted me; in vain I call upon him, he will not answer me; and I dare not call on God, for what pity should he show a guilty wretch like me?

For years conscience has slumbered; I have not heard her voice at all. No deed of desperation has seemed to me too desperate; no crime has seemed too dark or bloody. My soul seemed dead to all remorse or dread, and fear has been a feeling which, until now, I have never known.

But in this lonely cell, away from all the excitements which have always been the support of my restless nature—within these solemn walls, where I see none but those who guard me, or those come to look at me, as upon some wild beast; here, where no sounds fall upon my ear but the footsteps of the keeper, as he paces with measured tread the long corridor outside, or harsh, discordant clank of heavy doors slamming, or the grating of bolts and the creaking of hinges—conscience, so long dead, has at last awakened, and now stings me with anguish, and fills my soul with dread and horror.

I look back upon my way of life, and see the path marked with blood and crime, and in the still midnight, if I sleep, I act the dreadful scenes anew. Again I imbrue my hand in the red blood of my victims; again I rob the unsuspecting traveller, or violate the most sacred sanctities of life, to satisfy my greed of gold, or headstrong, unchecked passions; and if I wake, I seem to see my victims glaring at me through the gloom of my cell, or hear them shriek aloud for vengeance on my guilty head.

The past is one great horror! The future one dread fear. A heavy, insupportable weight is on my heart, and I feel as if, did I not reveal its fearful secrets, I should go mad.

But I have resisted the impulse until now, and would die and tell no tales, but that the history of my life may serve as a warning to mankind, and may benefit my wife, perhaps, though it will make her bow her head in deep shame over the crimes of him who is the father of her child.

I feel that after I have unburdened myself of the secrets of my life, I can die easier, and meet my fate like a man; and though I may go to the gallows without hope, without repentance, without any evidence of aught but misery hereafter, the thought that the sale of this, my Confession, will perhaps keep the mother of my child from dependence on such cold charity as the world would show a murderer’s wife, will make me stronger to bear the inevitable doom which is now awaiting me.

For my own sake I would not have done this; but for the sake of her whose fate I have linked in life to mine, and for the sake of the poor little child, who I trust will never know who was its father, I give to the world the wretched

STORY OF MY LIFE.

I was born about the year 1820, in the town of Foster, State of Rhode Island.

My father was a farmer, and had seven sons, of whom I was the youngest but one.

I worked on the farm until I was fifteen years of age, and though I had opportunities of receiving the benefit of public instruction, I never attended school, or profited by the advantages offered me to improve my condition in life by any honest or legitimate means.

I was naturally of a wild, restless, reckless disposition, fonder of wandering about the fields, or lounging by the brook side, than following habits of industry, and among my companions was noted for my headstrong, imperious manner, and was always foremost in all youthful frolics and scrapes, never feeling satisfied unless I could outdo my companions in any enterprise of fun or mischief.

My only ambition was to be rich; but I had no desire to acquire riches in the plodding way in which our neighbors went through life; my dream was to become suddenly rich by some bold stroke, and then to give free reins to the passions and desires which governed me.

I never, even as a boy, hoarded money. I did not care for the mere possession of it. It was only valuable to me as the means of gratifying my passions.

I used to wish that I could find the pots of gold and silver which rumor said had been buried in our neighborhood by pirates and robbers, and used to listen with rapt attention to stories of pirates, robbers, highwaymen, etc., which my companions used sometimes to relate.

My father compelled me to work, and though I had no taste for it, when once in the field my ambition to excel always brought me out first at the end of the row or swath, and having some mechanical skill, I was often called upon to do jobs about the farm which saved calling upon the wheelwright or carpenter.

But by the time I was fifteen years of age I grew tired of the monotonous life I had been leading, and my desire to roam and see the world, and seek my fortune, took entire possession of me; so I began making my preparations to run away. I got together a small sum of money, by hook and by crook; and one night, after all were asleep, I stealthily left the house, and took the road to Providence, from whence I proceeded to Norwich, Conn.

Here I took the first important step in that career of crime which has made me a prisoner in this cell, and which will lead me eventually to the gallows.

After arriving at Norwich, I wandered about, seeking not employment, but some means of gratifying my desire for money in an easier way; and during the day I strayed into the railroad depot, where I observed a number of trunks, packages of goods, etc., a part of which I determined to appropriate to myself. I hung about the depot until night, and then watching my opportunity, I seized a package of goods; and leaving the depot in all haste, made my way outside of the town to some woods, where I examined the package, which contained laces and silks. I secreted some of the things about me; and, not knowing any one to whom I could dispose of them there, I determined to go back home, which I reached in the course of a few days.

My parents were very angry with me, and tried to learn where I had been; but I kept a still tongue, and sold the goods secretly to a peddler who stopped at the house.

But the goods were missed, and, as I had been seen prowling about the railroad station, suspicion naturally fell on me; and the officers having no difficulty in getting on my track, I was followed and arrested one night at my father’s house, after I had been in bed some time.

I was fast asleep; the officers awoke me, and putting a pair of handcuffs on me, carried me back with them to Norwich, where I was tried and sentenced to a year and six months’ imprisonment in the Norwich jail.

I remained in confinement about three months, when I managed to make my escape, and went to Lowerpart, Gloucester, Rhode Island, where I went to work on a farm. But my whereabouts was discovered, and in six weeks from the time of my escape I was re-arrested and taken back to Norwich jail, and put to work in the quarries, with a ball and chain fastened to my leg.

I had been at work a month in this way, when one day, by means of a stone hammer and chisel, I broke the chain from my leg, and running off, made for the woods, pursued for some miles by a strong party of officers.

I took refuge in a house by the roadside, and had the satisfaction of seeing them go by at full speed, supposing me to be still ahead of them.

As soon as they had passed, I left the house and took to the woods, where I remained hid in some bushes until night, when I came out and took the road to Providence.

Early the next morning I was stopped on the way by a man on horseback, who knew me to be an escaped convict by the clothes I wore, not having had an opportunity of changing them.

As soon as I saw him, I made for the woods by the side of the road. He dismounted and followed me, and, being a good runner, had nearly overtaken me, when I turned and stood at bay.

We had a long and terrible struggle in the mud and water of the swamp, he all the time shouting at the top of his voice for assistance, which brought the neighbors to his aid before I could effect my determination to kill him, which I had fully made up my mind to do rather than allow myself to be taken.

I was, of course, overpowered by numbers, and after being safely bound, was reconducted back to Norwich, where I was punished and kept in close solitary confinement for more than a year.

During this confinement, it seemed as if every wicked quality of my mind was brought out in full activity. I used to sit and plan all sorts of desperate schemes, and a feeling of the most unquenchable vengeance took possession of me. For I fancied myself persecuted, wronged and ill-treated; I imagined the world had declared war against me, and I determined, as soon as my term of imprisonment should expire, to war in turn upon the world.

At last the long wished for end of my imprisonment came, and I was discharged. Swearing vengeance against the whole human race, I left the jail and went back to my father’s house, where I remained for a short time and then went to Lower Gloucester, where I went to work in a shoe manufactory, having learned that trade during my confinement in the Norwich jail.

But this hum-drum sort of life was little suited to me, and besides, I felt so incensed against mankind that I found it impossible to restrain my thirst for vengeance on society for the fancied wrongs it had done me, so I resolved to go again out into the world; and going to Providence, an old shipping master, by the name of Chittel, shipped me on board the whaleship Philip Tabb, bound to the northwest coast of America. The ship belonged to Warren, R. I., where I joined her in the course of a few days.

I no sooner got on board than I began to make mischief among the crew, among whom I got up a series of rows and fights. I gratified my wicked and evil propensities with a total disregard of consequences either to them or myself. I had no fear, nor did I care for anybody or anything.

The captain was in a great hurry to sail, and not wishing that he should for a few days, when we reached Newport I incited a mutiny, which resulted in a fight, in which the mutineers got the worst of it, and two men were sent ashore in irons.

The captain thinking that he had rid himself of the ring-leaders—although the men sent ashore were really the most innocent of the crew—again set sail and proceeded on the cruise.

For a few weeks everything went on smoothly enough, but in a short time I succeeded in sowing dissatisfaction among the crew, which in the end led to another mutiny; my idea being, if possible, to get possession of the ship.

The captain and mates tried first to quiet the men by fair words, but failing by these means to get them to resume their work, they armed themselves, and a hard and desperate fight took place in which the captain and first and second mates were very badly cut with knives and axes. The mutineers were, however, again subdued, and two of them were put in irons. I played my cards so well, that notwithstanding I had incited the whole affair, and was in all respects responsible for it, the captain did not suspect the part I had taken, and I escaped unpunished.

When we arrived at Wahoo, Sandwich Islands, the mutineers who had been put in irons, were whipped with the cat, on board ship, till they were nearly dead. While we remained in port, the captain thinking to gain the good will of the crew, permitted us to go on shore nearly every day, and the men would have been well disposed toward him if I had not continually poisoned their minds against him.

While on shore I engaged in every kind of wickedness; I robbed and beat the natives, and was finally taken by the authorities and locked up until the vessel was ready for sea.

I imagined that I had been arrested at the instigation of the captain, and I determined that as soon as we were once more in blue water, I would be revenged upon him for it, but no opportunity occurred before we reached our cruising ground, where we only took one whale, and were then obliged to put back to Wahoo for repairs, the ship being leaky.

On our way back, one of the boat-steerers having been observed in conversation with me by the captain, was questioned in relation to the subject of it, which he refused to disclose. The captain then commenced to abuse the boat-steerer, and from words they soon came to blows. The boat-steerer, who was more than a match for the captain, would have overpowered him, but that the first mate interfered. He no sooner did so, than seizing a belaying-pin, I felled him to the deck, and the other officers coming up, a general fight took place.

The boat-steerer and myself succeeded in giving them a severe beating, and had complete possession of the ship, for the rest of the crew were afraid of us, and did not dare, even if they had been disposed, to take sides with the officers, whom we drove below, with the exception of the first mate, who still lay insensible upon the deck.

After this, the boat-steerer and myself held a consultation, and had we been navigators, which we were not, it being our first voyage, or had we even known where we were, or what course to sail, we should have murdered all the officers, and taken the ship.

Two days afterward, on coming on deck, we found the ship was approaching land, and a number of vessels in sight, which forced us to alter our plans. So we released the officers, who brought the ship to anchor in the harbor of Owahie, S. I., where we remained about a week, none of the crew being allowed to go on shore, and the boat-steerer and myself, knowing that while in port, and in sight of other vessels, the captain had us in his power, and could at any time have punished us, asked forgiveness, and stood upon our good behavior until we put to sea again, after repairing ship.

On our way out we touched at the Marquis Island, and then cruised a season on the whaling ground; but, not being successful, we left, and went into Typie Bay.

One day, having permission to go on shore with the boat-steerer and some of the crew, we landed on one of the islands for the purpose of procuring cocoa-nuts and wild figs, with which the place abounded.

After securing as many figs and nuts as we wanted, we were about returning to the ship, when we were attacked by the natives.

A desperate fight took place. We killed a number of the natives, and succeeded in driving off the rest, and thus having a taste for blood, and the demon in me being fully aroused, I suggested to the boat-steerer, that this would be a good time to kill the officers, and take the ship. He agreed to the proposition, and so did those who were with us, and it was arranged that as soon as we were on board, each should select his man—kill him at once, and then put to sea, steering as well as we could for the western coast of America.

There were two boats. The boat-steerer and myself being in one, with a portion of the crew, and the balance of the party in the other.

Our boat reached the ship last, and when we got on board we found the officers armed and fully prepared to receive us. It was evident we had been betrayed, and I afterward learned that one of the men in the first boat informed the captain of our intentions as soon as he arrived on board.

As soon as our feet trod the deck a bloody and desperate fight ensued, in which the officers were assisted by a portion of the crew, and they finally succeeded, though not without being severely wounded, in disarming and securing the boat-steerer and myself, and put us in double irons.

They kept us in the run of the ship until we touched at Wahoo, when we were set ashore.

We were no sooner on land than we gave free vent to all our passions and desires. There was not a day went by we did not commit a robbery, and had it been necessary we should not have hesitated to have added murder to our other crimes. At last we were taken and locked up until the ship was ready for sea again, when we were sent on board and kept in irons until we arrived at an island—the name of which I do not now remember—where we were allowed to go on shore, and got into a fight with the natives, who succeeded in driving us to our boats.

During our stay here another disturbance and mutiny was organized by me, in which the officers were disabled, and the ship having again become leaky we put back to Wahoo, where she was condemned and the crew discharged; myself and the boat-steerer making our escape to the interior to avoid the consequences of our mutinous conduct.

For a long time we led the life of freebooters, robbing and plundering wherever we went, and dissipating the proceeds of our robberies in the wildest debauchery.

At last I was taken, and, for the third time, incarcerated in the prison at Wahoo, but was released through the intercession of the captain of a Dutch ship, the Villa de Poel, of Amsterdam, who gave me a berth on board.

We sailed for the Bay of Magdalina, California, where we took a right whale, and when we had towed him along side the ship a quarrel took place between me and the mate. We had a desperate fight, but they overpowered me and put me in irons.

But the second mate and myself had previous to this opened our minds to one another, and finding we were of the same way of thinking, we became warm friends.

He was an American, a native of Boston, and he succeeded in procuring my release, and put me on as boat-steerer.

The second mate and myself finding that we should stand no chance in case of trouble, the whole crew with the exception of ourselves being Dutch, resolved to leave the ship on the first opportunity which presented itself.

We had not long to wait, for one night when we were lying to, near shore, on which a tent had been pitched, we armed ourselves with pistols and cutlasses, and taking a boat from the davits, we dropped into it quietly and went ashore, taking possession of the tent.

In the morning our absence was discovered, and a boat was sent from the ship to bring us on board, but being well armed we would not allow them to land, and they were obliged to go back. Another boat came, but we resolutely refused to go back and would not allow them to land until the captain had agreed to pay us off and give us our discharge. This, after some parleying, he consented to, and we took the ship’s boat and put out into the bay, where we boarded and joined the barque Fanny, of New Bedford.

We sailed immediately for Cape St. Lucas, California, and not meeting with any success, proceeded to the Bay of St. Josephs, where we left the ship, and after the lapse of a few years, during which time I passed through a series of adventures almost too numerous to mention, and the details of which would fill a volume, we found ourselves in Lower California about the commencement of the Mexican War.

We remained here about a year, living a wild, guerrilla life, plundering all who promised anything like booty, and never hesitating to take the lives of such as resisted us or were likely to betray us. We spared neither sex nor age. How many times, during this period, I dyed my hands in human blood, I do not know. No prayers, no entreaties moved us; it seemed as if my heart was dead to every human feeling, and was a stranger to pity and every soft emotion.

Often at midnight, when all nature slept, and none were abroad save the wild beasts and we wilder men—the former not so much to be feared as we, nor yet so cruel—for while they only sought their natural prey, in obedience to a natural instinct, we preyed upon our fellow men, in violation of every natural sentiment—I say, often at the dead hour of the night have I and my companion stealthily approached some house, previously selected for our purpose, and breaking in upon the fancied security of the inmates, killed them as they slept.

The old man, whose grey hairs glistened in the moonlight, and whose venerable presence might have touched any hearts but ours; the little children, locked in each other’s arms, dreaming of butterflies and flowers and singing birds; the young man and the just budding woman, the fond wife and the doting husband, all fell beneath my murderous hand, or were made the shrieking victims of my unholy passion first, and then slaughtered like cattle.

During this time my gains were large, but we squandered all our money in the various towns in gambling, drinking, and with prostitutes, never once feeling remorse for what we had done, but ever ready for some new deed of horror the moment the proceeds of our last crime were spent.

Cunning and shrewd as we were, however, suspicion at last fell upon us, and we were obliged to leave the country. While we were waiting on the coast for an opportunity, the U. S. store-ship Southampton came into port; we shipped on board of her and went to Monterey, Santa Cruz Bay.

Having accomplished my object in escaping from the scene of my late depredations, and having arrived at a place where neither my past life was known nor my present purposes suspected, I resolved to leave the Southampton at the earliest possible moment; and finding on consultation with my partner, the boat-steerer, that he was of the same mind, we began to keep an eye to windward for chances.

One night, when I thought circumstances favored our project, I let my hat drop from a gun-port, as if by accident. The marine on duty was walking the poop deck, but it being a foggy night, he did not see us as I hauled the boat from the swinging-boom alongside under the bow, and myself and partner got in and pulled for the shore.

The noise of the oars attracted the attention of the sentry, and he and the captain both fired at us, without effect, and the store-ship Lexington, which was lying close by, fired a gun loaded with grape, which struck the boat just as we landed, knocking it all to pieces, but doing us no injury. As soon as we landed, we made for the woods, being obliged to pass a fort filled with American soldiers, who fired upon us without effect, so that we were enabled to reach the shelter of the wood unharmed.

We remained in this wood for a few days, and then travelling on, we reached the city at night, where we stole horses and made for the mines.

We had not ridden far before we met two travellers, who were returning from the diggings. As they approached us, we stopped; and when they were about passing us, we drew our pistols, and bade them stand and deliver. They made no resistance, but quickly transferred such dust, nuggets, and other valuables as they had about them to our keeping, when we bade them good day, and allowed them to proceed upon their journey.

Arriving at the Salina plains, we stopped at a house over night, where we committed a robbery, and continued our journey the next day to the gold mines.

On our arrival there, we went about from claim to claim, and from diggings to diggings, adding to our store of dust by robbery and murder; and though we were perfectly reckless of consequences, and carried on our operations in the boldest manner, we escaped detection, though we did not avoid suspicion, and were more than once in danger of expiating our crimes by sentence of Judge Lynch.

I have no doubt that during this period, many of the crimes attributed to the notorious Joaquin, and other robbers, were committed by us; but the devil, whose work we were so industriously doing, seemed to protect us, and for more than a year we pursued our career of blood and crime with impunity.

Having by this time accumulated sufficient dust to satisfy our desire, besides that which we had squandered in gambling in the various mining towns and districts, we made our way to San Francisco.

We had as much gold as I could lift from the ground with one arm, which, upon our arrival in San Francisco, we exchanged for coin, and then commenced a long period of debauchery and licentiousness.

Every bar-room was at that time a gambling-place. The laws were loosely administered, and the only code really recognized was that of might.

Among the lawless, there were none more lawless than I; among the profligate and depraved, none more so than I; among the reckless and desperate, none were more reckless or so desperate as I and my companion.

The bar-room, the brothel, and the monte table, were the only attractions for us, and for six months we led the life of demons, leaving no bad impulse, no fiendish purpose, no gross passion, nor any wicked design, ungratified or unaccomplished.

After our money was all gone, and we began to be marked and suspected, we shipped on board of the brig Josephine—a Spanish vessel, bound for Valparaiso, and having on board a large amount of treasure, consisting of gold dust and Mexican doubloons.

One night, while we were coasting down, myself and partner having completed our arrangements, armed ourselves, and going into the cabin, gagged and bound the captain and officers, and placed them in a boat, compelling the crew to follow, leaving us in possession of the ship.

We then collected all the treasure, which we placed in the boat we had reserved for ourselves, when we scuttled the vessel and set fire to her.

What became of the officers and crew I never heard, but the owners of the brig Josephine, should they ever read my narrative, will learn, for the first time, the news of her real fate.

After seeing the vessel burn to the water’s edge, we pulled away, and favored by fine weather, we arrived within a short time at Mazatlan, having in our possession nearly or quite a hundred thousand dollars in dust and doubloons.

Here we purchased a hotel and bowling alley, and for a year and a half carried on business, occasionally indulging in my old propensities, and never missing a chance of appropriating to my own use such property or effects belonging to the travellers who stopped with us, as I could lay my hands on, occasionally taking to the road and waylaying those whom it would have been imprudent to have robbed while they were in the town.

But though our business flourished, and we might, had we exercised ordinary prudence, have grown rich and lived honestly, our propensities for gambling, carousing, and every sort of vile dissipation, ran away with our ill-gotten gains, and by the time eighteen months had elapsed, we were forced to abandon our hotel and take to our old business of robbing and murdering, until we were forced to fly to escape punishment, and once more took to the highway.

The scene of our operations was the road leading from the mines, where we stopped the mules, murdered the conductors, and took such silver as they had in charge.

We came by these means into possession of large amounts of silver in bars, which being altogether too heavy for transportation, we were obliged to bury, and went back to Valparaiso.

At Mazatlan there lived a Chinaman by the name of Bill Cassa. He kept a public house, and being a reckless, unprincipled sort of fellow, and fond of money, although he was already rich, we selected him to become the purchaser of our hidden wealth. So, putting up at his hotel, we commenced sounding him, and finding his curiosity and avarice excited by our hints of hidden treasure, we at last offered to guide him to the spot where it was buried, provided he would pay us a sufficient sum of money in gold for the secret.