To an intelligent and candid judge of human actions it will not appear that any of the persons at whose expense the Adventure Galley was fitted out deserved serious blame.  The worst that could be imputed even to Bellamont, who had drawn in all the rest, was that he had been led into a fault by his ardent zeal for the public service, and by the generosity of a nature as little prone to suspect as to devise villanies.  His friends in England might surely be pardoned for giving credit to his recommendation.  It is highly probable that the motive which induced some of them to aid his design was genuine public spirit.  But, if we suppose them to have had a view to gain, it was to legitimate gain.  Their conduct was the very opposite of corrupt.  Not only had they taken no money.  They had disbursed money largely, and had disbursed it with the certainty that they should never be reimbursed unless the outlay proved beneficial to the public.  That they meant well they proved by staking thousands on the success of their plan; and, if they erred in judgment, the loss of those thousands was surely a sufficient punishment for such an error.  On this subject there would probably have been no difference of opinion had not Somers been one of the contributors.  About the other patrons of Kidd the chiefs of the opposition cared little.  Bellamont was far removed from the political scene.  Romney could not, and Shrewsbury would not, play a first part.  Orford had resigned his employments.  But Somers still held the Great Seal, still presided in the House of Lords, still had constant access to the closet.  The retreat of his friends had left him the sole and undisputed head of that party which had, in the late Parliament, been a majority, and which was, in the present Parliament, outnumbered indeed, disorganised and disheartened, but still numerous and respectable.  His placid courage rose higher and higher to meet the dangers which threatened him.  He provided for himself no refuge.  He made no move towards flight; and, without uttering one boastful word, gave his enemies to understand, by the mild firmness of his demeanour, that he dared them to do their worst.

In their eagerness to displace and destroy him they overreached themselves.  Had they been content to accuse him of lending his countenance, with a rashness unbecoming his high place, to an illconcerted scheme, that large part of mankind which judges of a plan simply by the event would probably have thought the accusation well founded.  But the malice which they bore to him was not to be so satisfied.  They affected to believe that he had from the first been aware of Kidd’s character and designs.  The Great Seal had been employed to sanction a piratical expedition.  The head of the law had laid down a thousand pounds in the hope of receiving tens of thousands when his accomplices should return, laden with the spoils of ruined merchants.  It was fortunate for the Chancellor that the calumnies of which he was the object were too atrocious to be mischievous.