At last such signs were seen; the _Henry_ was further from the shore
than the _Royal James_, and she first felt the influence of the rising
waters. Her masts began to straighten, and at last her deck was level,
and she floated clear of the bottom while her antagonist still lay
careened over on her side. Now the pirates saw there was no chance for
them; in a very short time the other Carolina sloop would be afloat, and
then the two vessels would bear down upon them and utterly destroy both
them and their vessel. Consequently upon the _Royal James_ there was a
general disposition to surrender and to make the best terms they could,
for it would be a great deal better to submit and run the chance of a
trial than to keep up the fight against enemies so much superior both in
numbers and ships, who would soon be upon them.

But Bonnet would not listen to one word of surrender. Rather than give
up the fight he declared he would set fire to the powder magazine of
the _Royal James_ and blow himself, his ship, and his men high up into
the air. Although he had not a sailor's skill, he possessed a soldier's
soul, and in spite of his being a dastardly and cruel pirate he was a
brave man. But Bonnet was only one, and his crew numbered dozens, and
notwithstanding his furiously dissenting voice it was determined to
surrender, and when Mr. Rhett sailed up to the _Royal James_, intending
to board her if the pirates still showed resistance, he found them ready
to submit to terms and to yield themselves his prisoners.

Thus ended the great sea-fight between the private gentlemen, and thus
ended Stede Bonnet's career. He and his men were taken to Charles Town,
where most of the pirate crew were tried and executed. The green-hand
pirate, who had wrought more devastation along the American coast than
many a skilled sea-robber, was held in custody to await his trial, and
it seems very strange that there should have been a public sentiment in
Charles Town which induced the officials to treat this pirate with a
certain degree of respect simply from the fact that his station in life
had been that of a gentleman. He was a much more black-hearted scoundrel
than any of his men, but they were executed as soon as possible while
his trial was postponed and he was allowed privileges which would never
have been accorded a common pirate. In consequence of this leniency he
escaped and had to be retaken by Mr. Rhett. It was so long before he was
tried that sympathy for his misfortunes arose among some of the
tender-hearted citizens of Charles Town whose houses he would have
pillaged and whose families he would have murdered if the exigencies of
piracy had rendered such action desirable.

Finding that other people were trying to save his life, Bonnet came down
from his high horse and tried to save it himself by writing piteous
letters to the Governor, begging for mercy. But the Governor of South
Carolina had no notion of sparing a pirate who had deliberately put
himself under the protection of the law in order that he might better
pursue his lawless and wicked career, and the green hand, with the black
heart, was finally hung on the same spot where his companions had been
executed.




Chapter XXVII

A Six Weeks' Pirate


About the time of Stede Bonnet's terminal adventures a very
unpretentious pirate made his appearance in the waters of New York. This
was a man named Richard Worley, who set himself up in piracy in a very
small way, but who, by a strict attention to business, soon achieved a
remarkable success. He started out as a scourge upon the commerce of the
Atlantic Ocean with only an open boat and eight men. In this small craft
he went down the coast of New Jersey taking everything he could from
fishing boats and small trading vessels until he reached Delaware Bay,
and here he made a bold stroke and captured a good-sized sloop.

When this piratical outrage was reported at Philadelphia, it created a
great sensation, and people talked about it until the open boat with
nine men grew into a great pirate ship filled with roaring desperadoes
and cutthroats. From Philadelphia the news was sent to New York, and
that government was warned of the great danger which threatened the
coast. As soon as this alarming intelligence was received, the New
Yorkers set to work to get up an expedition which should go out to sea
and endeavor to destroy the pirate vessel before it could enter their
port, and work havoc among their merchantmen.

It may seem strange that a small open boat with nine men could stir up
such a commotion in these two great provinces of North America, but if
we can try to imagine the effect which would be produced among the
inhabitants of Staten Island, or in the hearts of the dwellers in the
beautiful houses on the shores of the Delaware River, by the
announcement that a boat carrying nine desperate burglars was to be
expected in their neighborhood, we can better understand what the people
of New York and Philadelphia thought when they heard that Worley had
captured a sloop in Delaware Bay.

The expedition which left New York made a very unsuccessful cruise. It
sailed for days and days, but never saw a sign of a boat containing nine
men, and it returned disappointed and obliged to report no progress.
With Worley, however, progress had been very decided. He captured
another sloop, and this being a large one and suitable to his purposes,
he took possession of it, gave up his open boat, and fitted out his
prize as a regular piratical craft. With a good ship under his command,
Captain Worley now enlarged his sphere of action; on both shores of
Delaware Bay, and along the coast of New Jersey, he captured everything
which came in his way, and for about three weeks he made the waters in
those regions very hot for every kind of peaceable commercial craft. If
Worley had been in trade, his motto would have been "Quick sales and
small profits," for by day and by night, the _New York's Revenge_, which
was the name he gave to his new vessel, cruised east and west and north
and south, losing no opportunity of levying contributions of money,
merchandise, food, and drink upon any vessel, no matter how
insignificant it might be.

The Philadelphians now began to tremble in their shoes; for if a boat
had so quickly grown into a sloop, the sloop might grow into a fleet,
and they had all heard of Porto Bello, and the deeds of the bloody
buccaneers. The Governor of Pennsylvania, recognizing the impending
danger and the necessity of prompt action, sent to Sandy Hook, where
there was a British man-of-war, the _Phoenix_, and urged that this
vessel should come down into Delaware Bay and put an end to the pirate
ship which was ravaging those waters. Considering that Worley had not
been engaged in piracy for much more than four weeks, he had created a
reputation for enterprise and industry, which gave him a very important
position as a commerce destroyer, and a large man-of-war did not think
that he was too small game for her to hunt down, and so she set forth to
capture or destroy the audacious Worley. But never a Worley of any kind
did she see. While the _Phoenix_ was sailing along the coast,
examining all the coves and harbors of New Jersey and Pennsylvania, the
_New York's Revenge_ put out to sea, and then proceeded southward to
discover a more undisturbed field of operation.

We will now leave Worley's vessel sailing southward, and go for a time
to Charles Town, where some very important events were taking place. The
Governor of South Carolina had been very much afraid that the pirates in
general would take some sort of revenge for the capture of Stede Bonnet,
who was then in prison awaiting trial, and that if he should be
executed, Charles Town might be visited by an overpowering piratical
force, and he applied to England to have a war-vessel sent to the
harbor. But before any relief of this kind could be expected, news came
to Charles Town that already a celebrated pirate, named Moody, was
outside of the harbor, capturing merchant vessels, and it might be that
he was only waiting for the arrival of other pirate ships to sail into
the harbor and rescue Bonnet.

Now the Charles Town citizens saw that they must again act for
themselves, and not depend upon the home government. If there were
pirates outside the harbor, they must be met and fought before they
could come up to the city; and the Governor and the Council decided
immediately to fit out a little fleet. Four merchant vessels were
quickly provided with cannon, ammunition, and men, and the command of
this expedition would undoubtedly have been given to Mr. Rhett had it
not been that he and the Governor had quarrelled. There being no naval
officers in Charles Town, their fighting vessels had to be commanded by
civilians, and Governor Johnson now determined that he would try his
hand at carrying on a sea-fight. Mr. Rhett had done very well; why
should not he?

Before the Governor's little fleet of vessels, one of which was the
_Royal James_, captured from Bonnet, was quite ready to sail, the
Governor received news that his preparations had not been made a moment
too soon, for already two vessels, one a large ship, and the other an
armed sloop, had come into the outer harbor, and were lying at anchor
off Sullivan's Island. It was very likely that Moody, having returned
from some outside operation, was waiting there for the arrival of other
pirate ships, and that it was an important thing to attack him at once.

As it was very desirable that the pirates should not be frightened away
before the Charles Town fleet could reach them, the vessels of the
latter were made to look as much like mere merchantmen as possible.
Their cannon were covered, and the greater part of the crews was kept
below, out of sight. Thus the four ships came sailing down the bay, and
early in the morning made their appearance in the sight of the pirates.
When the ship and the big sloop saw the four merchant vessels sailing
quietly out of the harbor, they made immediate preparations to capture
them. Anchors were weighed, sails were set, and with a black flag flying
from the topmast of each vessel, the pirates steered toward the Charles
Town fleet, and soon approached near enough to the _King William_, which
was the foremost of the fleet, to call upon her captain to surrender.
But at that moment Governor Johnson, who was on board the
_Mediterranean_, and could hear the insolent pirate shouting through his
speaking-trumpet, gave a preconcerted signal. Instantly everything was
changed. The covers were jerked off from the cannon of the pretended
merchantmen, armed men poured up out of the holds, the flag of England
was quickly raised on each one of them, and the sixty-eight guns of the
combined fleet opened fire upon the astonished pirates.

The ship which seemed to be the more formidable of the enemy's vessels
had run up so close to her intended prey that two of Governor Johnson's
vessels, the _Sea-Nymph_ and the _Royal James_, once so bitterly opposed
to each other, but now fighting together in honest comradeship, were
able to go between her and the open sea and so cut off her retreat.

But if the captain of the pirate ship could not get away, he showed that
he was very well able to fight, and although the two vessels which had
made him the object of their attack were pouring cannon balls and musket
shot upon him, he blazed away with his cannon and his muskets. The three
vessels were so near each other that sometimes their yard-arms almost
touched, so that this terrible fight seemed almost like a hand-to-hand
conflict. For four hours the roaring of the cannon, the crushing of
timbers, the almost continuous discharge of musketry were kept up, while
the smoke of the battle frequently almost prevented the crews of the
contending ships from seeing each other. Not so very far away the people
of Charles Town, who were standing on the shores of their beautiful
harbor, could see the fierce fight which was going on, and great was the
excitement and anxiety throughout the city.

But the time came when two ships grew too much for one, and as the
_Royal James_ and the _Sea-Nymph_ were able to take positions by which
they could rake the deck of the pirate vessel, many of her men gave up
the fight and rushed down into the hold to save their lives. Then both
the Charles Town vessels bore down upon the pirate and boarded her, and
now there was another savage battle with pistols and cutlasses. The
pirate captain and several of his crew were still on deck, and they
fought like wounded lions, and it was not until they had all been cut
down or shot that victory came to the men of Charles Town.

Very soon after this terrible battle was over the waiting crowds in the
city saw a glorious sight; the pirate ship came sailing slowly up the
harbor, a captured vessel, with the _Sea-Nymph_ on one side and the
_Royal James_ on the other, the colors of the Crown flying from the
masts of each one of the three.

The other pirate ship, which was quite large, seemed to be more
fortunate than her companion, for she was able to get out to sea, and
spreading all her sails she made every effort to escape. Governor
Johnson, however, had no idea of letting her get away if he could help
it. When a civilian goes out to fight a sea-battle he naturally wants to
show what he can do, and Governor Johnson did not mean to let people
think that Mr. Rhett was a better naval commander than he was. He
ordered the _Mediterranean_ and the _King William_ to put on all sail,
and away they went after the big ship. The retreating pirates did
everything they could to effect escape, throwing over their cannon, and
even their boats, in order to lighten their ship, but it was of no use.
The Governor's vessels were the faster sailers, and when the _King
William_ got near enough to fire a few cannon balls into the flying
ship, the latter hauled down the black flag and without hesitation lay
to and surrendered.

It was plain enough that this ship was not manned by desperate pirates,
and when Governor Johnson went on board of her he found her to be not
really a pirate ship, but an English vessel which not long before had
been captured by the pirates in whose company she had visited Charles
Town harbor. She had been bringing over from England a company of
convicts and what were called "covenant servants," who were going to the
colonies to be disposed of to the planters for a term of years. Among
these were thirty-six women, and when the South Carolinians went below
they were greatly surprised to find the hold crowded with these
unfortunate creatures, some of whom were nearly frightened to death. At
the time of this vessel's capture the pirate captain had enlisted some
of the convicts into his crew, as he needed men, and putting on board of
his prize a few pirates to command her, the ship had been worked by such
of her own crew and passengers as were willing to serve under pirates,
while the others were shut up below.

Here was a fine prize taken with very little trouble, and the _King
William_ and the _Mediterranean_ returned to Charles Town with their
captured ship, to be met with the shouts and cheers of the delighted
citizens, already excited to a high pitch by the previous arrival of the
captured pirate sloop.

But Governor Johnson met with something else which made a stronger
impression on him than the cheers of his townspeople, and this was the
great surprise of finding that he had not fought and conquered the
pirate Moody; without suspecting such a thing, he had crushed and
utterly annihilated the dreaded Worley, whose deeds had created such a
consternation in northern waters, and whose threatened approach had sent
a thrill of excitement all down the coast. When this astonishing news
became known, the flags of the city were waved more wildly, and the
shouts and cheers rose higher.

Thus came to an end, in the short time of six weeks, the career of
Richard Worley, who, without doubt, did more piratical work in less time
than any sea-robber on record.




Chapter XXVIII

The Story of Two Women Pirates


The history of the world gives us many instances of women who have taken
the parts of men, almost always acquitting themselves with as much
credit as if they had really belonged to the male sex, and, in our
modern days, these instances are becoming more frequent than ever
before. Joan of Arc put on a suit of armor and bravely led an army, and
there have been many other fighting women who made a reputation for
themselves; but it is very seldom that we hear of a woman who became a
pirate. There were, however, two women pirates who made themselves very
well known on our coast.

The most famous of these women pirates was named Mary Reed. Her father
was an English captain of a trading vessel, and her mother sailed with
him. This mother had had an elder child, a son, and she also had a
mother-in-law in England from whom she expected great things for her
little boy. But the boy died, and Mrs. Reed, being afraid that her
mother-in-law would not be willing to leave any property to a girl,
determined to play a little trick, and make believe that her second
child was also a boy.

Consequently, as soon as the little girl, who, from her birth had been
called Mary by her father and mother, was old enough to leave off baby
clothes, she put on boy's clothes, and when the family returned to
England a nice little boy appeared before his grandmother; but all this
deception amounted to nothing, for the old lady died without leaving
anything to the pretended boy. Mary's mother believed that her child
would get along better in the world as a boy than she would as a girl,
and therefore she still dressed her in masculine clothes, and put her
out to service as a foot-boy, or one of those youngsters who now go by
the name of "Buttons."

But Mary did not fancy blacking boots and running errands. She was very
well satisfied to be a boy, but she wanted to live the kind of a boy's
life which would please her fancy, and as she thought life on the ocean
wave would suit her very well, she ran away from her employer's house
and enlisted on board a man-of-war as a powder monkey.

After a short time, Mary found that the ocean was not all that she
expected it to be, and when she had grown up so that she looked like a
good strapping fellow, she ran away from the man-of-war when it was in
an English port, and went to Flanders, and there she thought she would
try something new, and see whether or not she would like a soldier's
life better than that of a sailor. She enlisted in a regiment of foot,
and in the course of time she became a very good soldier and took part
in several battles, firing her musket and charging with her bayonet as
well as any of the men beside her.

But there is a great deal of hard work connected with infantry service,
and although she was eager for the excitement of battle with the
exhilarating smell of powder and the cheering shouts of her
fellow-soldiers, Mary did not fancy tramping on long marches, carrying
her heavy musket and knapsack. She got herself changed into a regiment
of cavalry, and here, mounted upon a horse, with the encumbrances she
disliked to carry comfortably strapped behind her, Mary felt much more
at ease, and much better satisfied. But she was not destined to achieve
fame as a dashing cavalry man with foaming steed and flashing sabre. One
of her comrades was a very prepossessing young fellow, and Mary fell in
love with him, and when she told him she was not really a cavalry man
but a cavalry woman, he returned her affection, and the two agreed that
they would quit the army, and set up domestic life as quiet civilians.
They were married, and went into the tavern-keeping business. They were
both fond of horses, and did not wish to sever all connection with the
method of life they had just given up, and so they called their little
inn the Three Horse Shoes, and were always glad when any one of their
customers came riding up to their stables, instead of simply walking in
their door.

But this domestic life did not last very long. Mary's husband died, and,
not wishing to keep a tavern by herself, she again put on the dress of a
man and enlisted as a soldier. But her military experience did not
satisfy her, and after all she believed that she liked the sea better
than the land, and again she shipped as a sailor on a vessel bound for
the West Indies.

Now Mary's desire for change and variety seemed likely to be fully
satisfied. The ship was taken by English pirates, and as she was English
and looked as if she would make a good freebooter, they compelled her to
join them, and thus it was that she got her first idea of a pirate's
life. When this company disbanded, she went to New Providence and
enlisted on a privateer, but, as was very common on such vessels
commissioned to perform acts of legal piracy, the crew soon determined
that illegal piracy was much preferable, so they hoisted the black flag,
and began to scourge the seas.

Mary Reed was now a regular pirate, with a cutlass, pistol, and every
outward appearance of a daring sea-robber, except that she wore no
bristling beard, but as her face was sunburned and seamed by the
weather, she looked mannish enough to frighten the senses out of any
unfortunate trader on whose deck she bounded in company with her
shouting, hairy-faced companions. It is told of her that she did not
fancy the life of a pirate, but she seemed to believe in the principle
of whatever is worth doing is worth doing well; she was as ready with
her cutlass and her pistol as any other ocean bandit.

But although Mary was a daring pirate, she was also a woman, and again
she fell in love. A very pleasant and agreeable sailor was taken
prisoner by the crew of her ship, and Mary concluded that she would take
him as her portion of the spoils. Consequently, at the first port they
touched she became again a woman and married him, and as they had no
other present method of livelihood he remained with her on her ship.
Mary and her husband had no real love for a pirate's life, and they
determined to give it up as soon as possible, but the chance to do so
did not arrive. Mary had a very high regard for her new husband, who was
a quiet, amiable man, and not at all suited to his present life, and as
he had become a pirate for the love of her, she did everything she could
to make life easy for him.

She even went so far as to fight a duel in his place, one of the crew
having insulted him, probably thinking him a milksop who would not
resent an affront. But the latent courage of Mary's husband instantly
blazed up, and he challenged the insulter to a duel. Although Mary
thought her husband was brave enough to fight anybody, she thought that
perhaps, in some ways, he was a milksop and did not understand the use
of arms nearly as well as she did. Therefore, she made him stay on board
the ship while she went to a little island near where they were anchored
and fought the duel with sword and pistol. The man pirate and the woman
pirate now went savagely to work, and it was not long before the man
pirate lay dead upon the sand, while Mary returned to an admiring crew
and a grateful husband.

During her piratical career Mary fell in with another woman pirate, Anne
Bonny, by name, and these women, being perhaps the only two of their
kind, became close friends. Anne came of a good family. She was the
daughter of an Irish lawyer, who went to Carolina and became a planter,
and there the little girl grew up. When her mother died she kept the
house, but her disposition was very much more masculine than feminine.
She was very quick-tempered and easily enraged, and it is told of her
that when an Englishwoman, who was working as a servant in her father's
house, had irritated Anne by some carelessness or impertinence, that
hot-tempered young woman sprang upon her and stabbed her with a
carving-knife.

It is not surprising that Anne soon showed a dislike for the humdrum
life on a plantation, and meeting with a young sailor, who owned nothing
in the world but the becoming clothes he wore, she married him.
Thereupon her father, who seems to have been as hot-headed as his
daughter, promptly turned her out of doors. The fiery Anne was glad
enough to adopt her husband's life, and she went to sea with him,
sailing to New Providence. There she was thrown into an entirely new
circle of society. Pirates were in the habit of congregating at this
place, and Anne was greatly delighted with the company of these daring,
dashing sea-robbers, of whose exploits she had so often heard. The more
she associated with the pirates, the less she cared for the plain,
stupid sailors, who were content with the merchant service, and she
finally deserted her husband and married a Captain Rackham, one of the
most attractive and dashing pirates of the day.

Anne went on board the ship of her pirate husband, and as she was sure
his profession would exactly suit her wild and impetuous nature, she
determined also to become a pirate. She put on man's clothes, girded to
her side a cutlass, and hung pistols in her belt. During many voyages
Anne sailed with Captain Rackham, and wherever there was pirate's work
to do, she was on deck to do it. At last the gallant captain came to
grief. He was captured and condemned to death. Now there was an
opportunity for Anne's nature to assert itself, and it did, but it was a
very different sort of nature from that of Mary Reed. Just before his
execution Anne was admitted to see her husband, but instead of offering
to do anything that might comfort him or palliate his dreadful
misfortune, she simply stood and contemptuously glared at him. She was
sorry, she said, to see him in such a predicament, but she told him
plainly that if he had had the courage to fight like a man, he would not
then be waiting to be hung like a dog, and with that she walked away and
left him.

On the occasion when Captain Rackham had been captured, Mary Reed and
her husband were on board his ship, and there was, perhaps, some reason
for Anne's denunciation of the cowardice of Captain Rackham. As has been
said, the two women were good friends and great fighters, and when they
found the vessel engaged in a fight with a man-of-war, they stood
together upon the deck and boldly fought, although the rest of the crew,
and even the captain himself, were so discouraged by the heavy fire
which was brought to bear on them, that they had retreated to the hold.

Mary and Anne were so disgusted at this exhibition of cowardice, that
they rushed to the hatchways and shouted to their dastardly companions
to come up and help defend the ship, and when their entreaties were
disregarded they were so enraged that they fired down into the hold,
killing one of the frightened pirates and wounding several others. But
their ship was taken, and Mary and Anne, in company with all the pirates
who had been left alive, were put in irons and carried to England.

When she was in prison, Mary declared that she and her husband had
firmly intended to give up piracy and become private citizens. But when
she was put on trial, the accounts of her deeds had a great deal more
effect than her words upon her judges, and she was condemned to be
executed. She was saved, however, from this fate by a fever of which she
died soon after her conviction.

The impetuous Anne was also condemned, but the course of justice is
often very curious and difficult to understand, and this hard-hearted
and sanguinary woman was reprieved and finally pardoned. Whether or not
she continued to disport herself as a man we do not know, but it is
certain that she was the last of the female pirates.

There are a great many things which women can do as well as men, and
there are many professions and lines of work from which they have been
long debarred, and for which they are most admirably adapted, but it
seems to me that piracy is not one of them. It is said that a woman's
nature is apt to carry her too far, and I have never heard of any man
pirate who would allow himself to become so enraged against the
cowardice of his companions that he would deliberately fire down into
the hold of a vessel containing his wife and a crowd of his former
associates.




Chapter XXIX

A Pirate from Boyhood


About the beginning of the eighteenth century there lived in
Westminster, England, a boy who very early in life made a choice of a
future career. Nearly all boys have ideas upon this subject, and while
some think they would like to be presidents or generals of armies,
others fancy that they would prefer to be explorers of unknown countries
or to keep candy shops. But it generally happens that these youthful
ideas are never carried out, and that the boy who would wish to sell
candy because he likes to eat it, becomes a farmer on the western
prairie, where confectionery is never seen, and the would-be general
determines to study for the ministry.

But Edward Low, the boy under consideration, was a different sort of a
fellow. The life of a robber suited his youthful fancy, and he not only
adopted it at a very early age, but he stuck to it until the end of his
life. He was much stronger and bolder than the youngsters with whom he
associated, and he soon became known among them as a regular land
pirate. If a boy possessed anything which Ned Low desired, whether it
happened to be an apple, a nut, or a farthing, the young robber gave
chase to him, and treated him as a pirate treats a merchant vessel which
he has boarded.

Not only did young Low resemble a pirate in his dishonest methods, but
he also resembled one in his meanness and cruelty; if one of his victims
was supposed by him to have hidden any of the treasures which his captor
believed him to possess, Low would inflict upon him every form of
punishment which the ingenuity of a bad boy could devise, in order to
compel him to confess where he had concealed the half-penny which had
been given to him for holding a horse, or the ball with which he had
been seen playing. In the course of time this young street pirate became
a terror to all boys in that part of London in which he lived, and by
beginning so early he acquired a great proficiency in dishonest and
cruel practices.

It is likely that young Low inherited his knavish disposition, for one
of his brothers became a very bold and ingenious thief, and invented a
new kind of robbery which afterwards was popular in London. This brother
grew to be a tall fellow, and it was his practice to dress himself like
a porter,--one of those men who in those days carried packages and
parcels about the city. On his head he poised a basket, and supporting
this burden with his hands, he hurriedly made his way through the most
crowded streets of London.

The basket was a heavy one, but it did not contain any ordinary goods,
such as merchandise or marketing; but instead of these it held a very
sharp and active boy seven years old, one of the younger members of the
Low family. As the tall brother pushed rapidly here and there among the
hurrying people on the sidewalks, the boy in the basket would suddenly
stretch out with his wiry young arm, and snatch the hat or the wig of
some man who might pass near enough for him to reach him. This done, the
porter and his basket would quickly be lost in the crowd; and even if
the astonished citizen, suddenly finding himself hatless and wigless,
beheld the long-legged Low, he would have no reason to suppose that that
industrious man with the basket on his head had anything to do with the
loss of his head covering.

This new style of street robbery must have been quite profitable, for of
course the boy in the basket was well instructed, and never snatched at
a shabby hat or a poor looking wig. The elder Low came to have a good
many imitators, and it happened in the course of time that many a worthy
citizen of London wished there were some harmless way of gluing his wig
to the top of his head, or that it were the custom to secure the hat by
means of strings tied under the chin.

As Ned Low grew up to be a strong young fellow, he also grew
discontented with the pilferings and petty plunders which were possible
to him in the London streets, and so he went to sea and sailed to
America. He landed in Boston, and, as it was necessary to work in order
to eat,--for opportunities of a dishonest livelihood had not yet opened
themselves before him,--he undertook to learn the trade of a rigger, but
as he was very badly suited to any sort of steady occupation, he soon
quarrelled with his master, ran away, and got on board a vessel bound
for Honduras.

For a time he earned a livelihood by cutting logwood, but it was not
long before he quarrelled with the captain of the vessel for whom he was
working, and finally became so enraged that he tried to kill him. He did
not succeed in this dastardly attempt, but as he could not commit murder
he decided to do the next worst thing, and so gathering together twelve
of the greatest rascals among his companions, they seized a boat, went
out to the captain's schooner, which was lying near shore, and took
possession of it. Then they hoisted anchor, ran up the sail, and put out
to sea, leaving the captain and the men who were with him to take care
of themselves the best that they could and live on logwood leaves if
they could find nothing else to eat.

Now young Low was out upon the ocean in possession of a vessel and in
command of twelve sturdy scoundrels, and he did not have the least
trouble in the world in making up his mind what he should do next. As
soon as he could manufacture a black flag from materials he found on
board, he flung this ominous ensign to the breeze, and declared himself
a pirate. This was the summit of his ambition, and in this new
profession he had very little to learn. From a boy thief to a man pirate
the way is easy enough.

The logwood schooner, of course, was not provided with the cannon,
cutlasses, and pistols necessary for piratical undertakings, and
therefore Low found himself in the position of a young man beginning
business with a very small capital. So, in the hopes of providing
himself with the necessary appliances for his work, Low sailed for one
of the islands of the West Indies which was a resort for pirates, and
there he had very good fortune, for he fell in with a man named Lowther
who was already well established in the profession of piracy.

When Low sailed into the little port with his home-made black flag
floating above him, Lowther received him with the greatest courtesy and
hospitality, and shortly afterwards proposed to the newly fledged pirate
to go into partnership with him. This offer was accepted, and Low was
made second in command of the little fleet of two vessels, each of
which was well provided with arms, ammunition, and all things necessary
for robbery on the high seas.

The partnership between these two rascals did not continue very long.
They took several valuable prizes, and the more booty he obtained, the
higher became Low's opinion of himself, and the greater his desire for
independent action. Therefore it was that when they had captured a large
brigantine, Low determined that he would no longer serve under any man.
He made a bargain with Lowther by which they dissolved partnership, and
Low became the owner of the brigantine. In this vessel, with forty-four
men as a crew, he again started out in the black flag business on his
own account, and parting from his former chief officer, he sailed
northward.

As Low had landed in Boston, and had lived some time in that city, he
seems to have conceived a fancy for New England, which, however, was not
at all reciprocated by the inhabitants of that part of the country.

Among the first feats which Low performed in New England waters was the
capture of a sloop about to enter one of the ports of Rhode Island. When
he had taken everything out of this vessel which he wanted, Low cut away
the yards from the masts and stripped the vessel of all its sails and
rigging. As his object was to get away from these waters before his
presence was discovered by the people on shore, he not only made it
almost impossible to sail the vessel he had despoiled, but he wounded
the captain and others of the peaceful crew so that they should not be
able to give information to any passing craft. Then he sailed away as
rapidly as possible in the direction of the open sea. In spite, however,
of all the disadvantages under which they labored, the crew of the
merchant vessel managed to get into Block Island, and from there a small
boat was hurriedly rowed over to Rhode Island, carrying intelligence of
the bold piracy which had been committed so close to one of its ports.

When the Governor heard what had happened, he quickly sent out drummers
to sound the alarm in the seaport towns and to call upon volunteers to
go out and capture the pirates. So great was the resentment caused by
the audacious deed of Low that a large number of volunteers hastened to
offer their services to the Governor, and two vessels were fitted out
with such rapidity that, although their commanders had only heard of the
affair in the morning, they were ready to sail before sunset. They put
on all sail and made the best speed they could, and although they really
caught sight of Low's ship, the pirate vessel was a swifter craft than
those in pursuit of her, and the angry sailors of Rhode Island were at
last compelled to give up the chase.

The next of Low's transactions was on a wholesale scale. Rounding Cape
Cod and sailing up the coast, he at last reached the vicinity of
Marblehead, and there, in a harbor called in those days Port Rosemary,
he found at anchor a fleet of thirteen merchant vessels. This was a
grand sight, as welcome to the eye of a pirate as a great nugget of gold
would be to a miner who for weary days had been washing yellow grains
from the "pay dirt" which he had laboriously dug from the hard soil.

It would have been easy for Low to take his pick from these vessels
quietly resting in the little harbor, for he soon perceived that none of
them were armed nor were they able to protect themselves from assault,
but his audacity was of an expansive kind, and he determined to capture
them all. Sailing boldly into the harbor, he hoisted the dreadful black
flag, and then, standing on his quarter-deck with his speaking-trumpet,
he shouted to each vessel as he passed it that if it did not surrender
he would board it and give no quarter to captain or crew. Of course
there was nothing else for the peaceful sailors to do but to submit, and
so this greedy pirate took possession of each vessel in turn and
stripped it of everything of value he cared to take away.

But he did not confine himself to stealing the goods on board these
merchantmen. As he preferred to command several vessels instead of one,
he took possession of some of the best of the ships and compelled as
many of their men as he thought he would need to enter his service.
Then, as one of the captured vessels was larger and better than his
brigantine, he took it for his own ship, and at the head of the little
pirate fleet he bid farewell to Marblehead and started out on a grand
cruise against the commerce of our coast.

It is wonderful how rapidly this man Low succeeded in his business
enterprises. Beginning with a little vessel with a dozen unarmed men, he
found himself in a very short time at the head of what was perhaps the
largest piratical force in American waters. What might have happened if
Nature had not taken a hand in this game it is not difficult to imagine,
for our seaboard towns, especially those of the South, would have been
an easy prey to Low and his fleet.

But sailing down to the West Indies, probably in order to fit out his
ships with guns, arms, and ammunition before beginning a naval campaign,
his fleet was overtaken by a terrible storm, and in order to save the
vessels they were obliged to throw overboard a great many of the heavier
goods they had captured at Marblehead, and when at last they found
shelter in the harbor of a small island, they were glad that they had
escaped with their lives.

The grasping and rapacious Low was not now in a condition to proceed to
any rendezvous of pirates where he might purchase the arms and supplies
he needed. A great part of his valuable plunder had gone to the bottom
of the sea, and he was therefore obliged to content himself with
operations upon a comparatively small scale.

How small and contemptible this scale was it is scarcely possible for an
ordinary civilized being to comprehend, but the soul of this ignoble
pirate was capable of extraordinary baseness.

When he had repaired the damage to his ships, Low sailed out from the
island, and before long he fell in with a wrecked vessel which had lost
all its masts in a great storm, and was totally disabled, floating about
wherever the winds chose to blow it. The poor fellows on board greatly
needed succor, and there is no doubt that when they saw the approach of
sails their hopes rose high, and even if they had known what sort of
ships they were which were making their way toward them, they would
scarcely have suspected that the commander of these goodly vessels was
such an utterly despicable scoundrel as he proved to be.

Instead of giving any sort of aid to the poor shipwrecked crew, Low and
his men set to work to plunder their vessel, and they took from it a
thousand pounds in money, and everything of value which they could find
on board. Having thus stripped the unfortunate wreck, they departed,
leaving the captain and crew of the disabled vessel to perish by storm
or starvation, unless some other vessel, manned by human beings and not
pitiless beasts, should pass their way and save them.

Low now commenced a long series of piratical depredations. He captured
many merchantmen, he committed the vilest cruelties upon his victims,
and in every way proved himself to be one of the meanest and most
black-hearted pirates of whom we have any account. It is not necessary
to relate his various dastardly performances. They were all very much of
the same order, and none of them possessed any peculiar interest; his
existence is referred to in these pages because he was one of the most
noted and successful pirates of his time, and also because his career
indicated how entirely different was the character of the buccaneers of
previous days from that of the pirates who in the eighteenth century
infested our coast. The first might have been compared to bold and
dashing highwaymen, who at least showed courage and daring; but the
others resembled sneak thieves, always seeking to commit a crime if they
could do it in safety, but never willing to risk their cowardly necks in
any danger.

The buccaneers of the olden days were certainly men of the greatest
bravery. They did not hesitate to attack well-armed vessels manned by
crews much larger than their own, and in later periods they faced cannon
and conquered cities. Their crimes were many and vile; but when they
committed cruelties they did so in order to compel their prisoners to
disclose their hidden treasures, and when they attacked a Spanish
vessel, and murdered all on board, they had in their hearts the
remembrance that the Spanish naval forces gave no quarter to buccaneers.

But pirates such as Edward Low showed not one palliating feature in
their infamous characters. To rob and desert a shipwrecked crew was only
one of Low's contemptible actions. It appears that he seldom attacked a
vessel from which there seemed to be any probability of resistance, and
we read of no notable combats or sea-fights in which he was engaged. He
preyed upon the weak and defenceless, and his inhuman cruelties were
practised, not for the sake of extorting gain from his victims, but
simply to gratify his spite and love of wickedness.

There were men among Low's followers who looked upon him as a bold and
brave leader, for he was always a blusterer and a braggart, and there
were honest seamen and merchants who were very much afraid of him, but
time proved that there was no reason for any one to suppose that Edward
Low had a spark of courage in his composition. He was brave enough when
he was attacking an unarmed crew, but when he had to deal with any
vessel capable of inflicting any injury upon him he was a coward indeed.

Sailing in company with one companion vessel,--for he had discarded the
greater part of his pirate fleet,--Low sighted a good-sized ship at a
considerable distance, and he and his consort immediately gave chase,
supposing the distant vessel might prove to be a good prize. It so
happened, however, that the ship discovered by Low was an English
man-of-war, the _Greyhound_, which was cruising along the coast looking
for these very pirates, who had recently committed some outrageous
crimes upon the crews of merchant vessels in those waters.

When the two ships, with the black flags floating above them and their
decks crowded with desperate fellows armed with pistols and cutlasses,
drew near to the vessel, of which they expected to make a prize, they
were greatly amazed when she suddenly turned in her course and delivered
a broadside from her heavy cannon. The pirates returned the fire, for
they were well armed with cannon, and there was nothing else for them to
do but fight, but the combat was an extremely short one. Low's consort
was soon disabled by the fire from the man-of-war, and, as soon as he
perceived this, the dastardly Low, without any regard for his
companions in arms, and with no thought for anything but his own safety,
immediately stopped fighting, and setting all sail, sped away from the
scene of combat as swiftly as it was possible for the wind to force his
vessel through the water.

The disabled pirate ship was quickly captured, and not long afterwards
twenty-five of her crew were tried, convicted, and hung near Newport,
Rhode Island. But the arrant Low escaped without injury, and continued
his career of contemptible crime for some time longer. What finally
became of him is not set down in the histories of piracy. It is not
improbable that if the men under his command were not too brutally
stupid to comprehend his cowardly unfaithfulness to them, they suddenly
removed from this world one of the least interesting of all base
beings.




Chapter XXX

The Pirate of the Gulf


At the beginning of this century there was a very able and, indeed,
talented man living on the shores of the Gulf of Mexico, who has been
set down in the historical records of the times as a very important
pirate, and who is described in story and in tradition as a gallant and
romantic freebooter of the sea. This man was Jean Lafitte, widely known
as "The Pirate of the Gulf," and yet who was, in fact, so little of a
pirate, that it may be doubted whether or not he deserves a place in
these stories of American pirates.

Lafitte was a French blacksmith, and, while still a young man, he came
with his two brothers to New Orleans, and set up a shop in Bourbon
Street, where he did a good business in horseshoeing and in other
branches of his trade. But he had a soul which soared high above his
anvil and his bellows, and perceiving an opportunity to take up a very
profitable occupation, he gave up blacksmithing, and with his two
brothers as partners became a superintendent of privateering and a
general manager of semi-legalized piracy. The business opportunity which
came to the watchful and clear-sighted Lafitte may be briefly described.

In the early years of this century the Gulf of Mexico was the scene of
operations of small vessels calling themselves privateers, but in fact
pirates. War had broken out between England and Spain, on the one side,
and France on the other, and consequently the first-named nations were
very glad to commission privateers to prey upon the commerce of France.
There were also privateers who had been sent out by some of the Central
American republics who had thrown off the Spanish yoke, and these,
considering Spanish vessels as their proper booty, were very much
inclined to look upon English vessels in the same light, as the English
and Spanish were allies. And when a few French privateers came also upon
the scene, they helped to make the business of legitimate capture of
merchantmen, during the time of war, a very complicated affair.

But upon one point these privateers, who so often acted as pirates,
because they had not the spare time in which to work out difficult
problems of nationality, were all agreed: when they had loaded their
ships with booty, they must sail to some place where it would be safe to
dispose of it. So, in course of time, the bay of Barrataria, about
forty miles south of New Orleans and very well situated for an illegal
settlement, was chosen as a privateers' port, and a large and
flourishing colony soon grew up at the head of the bay, to which came
privateers of every nationality to dispose of their cargoes.

Of course there was no one in the comparatively desolate country about
Barrataria who could buy the valuable goods which were brought into that
port, but the great object of the owners of this merchandise was to
smuggle it up to New Orleans and dispose of it. But there could be no
legitimate traffic of this sort, for the United States at the very
beginning of the century was at peace with England, France, and Spain,
and therefore could not receive into any of her ports, goods which had
been captured from the ships of these nations. Consequently the plunder
of the privateering pirates of Barrataria was brought up to New Orleans
in all sorts of secret and underhand fashions, and sold to merchants in
that city, without the custom house having anything to do with the
importations.

Now this was great business; Jean Lafitte had a great business mind, and
therefore it was not long after his arrival at Barrataria before he was
the head man in the colony, and director-in-chief of all its operations.
Thus, by becoming a prominent figure in a piratical circle, he came to
be considered a pirate, and as such came down to us in the pages of
history.