Pirates: A History

by Travers, Tim

  Thus far, the Laffites were technically not pirates, and muddied the waters still further by becoming spies for Spain in the 1815–1816 period. This did not stop them from establishing a new smuggling, slaving and privateer port in Galveston, later Texas, where the Laffites sailed as privateers under the flag of nascent Mexico, using blank commissions. It appears that the Laffites wanted to use Spain to take over Galveston, but then in 1819 decided to support the American adventurer General Long, who led a small army with the idea of reorganising Galveston as a corsair port under his leadership. This did not work out, and in 1820 the Laffites abandoned Galveston, after a wild party involving a great deal of whisky and wine. Galveston was burnt to the ground, and Jean Laffite left with a small squadron of ships. Pierre meanwhile was back in New Orleans, and now Jean Laffite became a true pirate in that he had no commissions from any authority. He captured a Spanish ship in the Gulf of Mexico, with a varied cargo of whisky, oil, quicksilver, indigo, iron and other goods, worth $10,000. He sent the ship to Galveston with the hope that the remnants of the smugglers there could sell the cargo into Louisiana. Meanwhile, the American government was now cracking down on pirates such as Jean Laffite, and so Laffite started to sail in the areas of Cuba and the Bahamas. There he took several ships, including American and British vessels, sometimes ransoming them back to their owners. Around this time, Pierre died of fever, but Jean now received a commission from Colombia, operating out of Cartagena, and once more he became a quasi-legal privateer. This did not help him because in 1823 Jean was killed while fighting two ships in the Gulf of Honduras. This ended the strange saga of the Laffites, who were mostly slavers and smugglers, often privateers, on one occasion American patriots, and only occasionally pirates.6

  Pirates Operating Out of Cuba

  The ending of the Laffites’ careers in the early 1820s coincided with the loss of most Latin American commissions, except those from Venezuela and Colombia, so many privateer/pirates were forced to look elsewhere. This move was reinforced by the ending of a number of wars (Napoleonic, Britain versus the U.S.1812–1814, Latin American), which produced many out of work sailors. So these unemployed sailors and their ships often took the next step to piracy, especially because of increased trade and traffic in the Atlantic and other sea lanes leading to the West Indies and the Americas. Previous pirate bases had been eradicated, hence these pirates started to operate out of Cuba and Puerto Rico, then both still under the control of Spain. A surge of piracy in 1820 saw twenty-seven American ships attacked in the Atlantic and Caribbean that year, and so the United States sent a number of ships into the Caribbean and into the Gulf of Mexico to hunt down the pirates.7

  A typical pirate at this time was Charles Gibbs. Born in Rhode Island, Gibbs served in the United States navy in the war of 1812. Captured by the British, he was imprisoned in Dartmoor jail, but released through an exchange. Out of work after this, he enlisted in an Argentine privateer, took part in a mutiny, and was voted command of the ship, which he then operated out of Cuba. A brutal pirate, Gibbs’ voyages in this ship produced twenty prizes, in which he killed all survivors, except for a Dutch woman, who was abused for some two months before she was poisoned to death. Allegedly he hacked off the arms and legs of one captain, and burnt to death a captured crew. In 1821 an American ship under Lt Commander Kearney surprised Gibbs and his fleet of four schooners as he was plundering three trading ships close to the shore of Cuba. Ever enterprising, Gibbs escaped into the Cuban jungle with most of the loot, and re-enlisted in the Argentine navy as a privateer onboard the 25th of May. Still later, he served the Dey of Algiers against the French. Following this, Gibbs shipped out on the Vineyard from New Orleans, in which he predictably murdered the master and mate and took over the ship. His unpleasant and varied career came to an end in 1831 when he was captured and hung at Rhode Island.8

  In the years 1822–1823, perhaps as many as 2,000 pirates were attacking ships in the West Indies, mostly operating out of Cuban ports. The United States reacted by organising a special pirate hunting squadron under Commodore David Porter, which captured or killed most of the pirates, including a fierce battle against the Cuban pirate, Diabolito (Little Devil), in his ship the Catalina. It seems that Porter employed barges to chase Diabolito onto the Cuban shore, so that the pirates jumped overboard ‘like frogs from a bank’. Most of Diabolito’s crew was shot in the water, or in the jungle, though Diabolito himself may have escaped to cruise off the Yucatan the next year, 1824. Another violent pirate was Benito de Soto, from Portugal, who originally sailed in a slaver called the Defensor de Pedro. Off the African coast, de Soto was part of the crew that took over the slaver, whereupon he shot the mate, and became captain of the ship, which was aptly renamed the Black Joke. De Soto sailed for the Caribbean, sold the slaves, and embarked on a vicious campaign of taking merchant ships, plundering them, and then sinking them with the crews locked below decks. In 1828, the Black Joke fired on the unarmed British transport ship, the Morning Star, homeward bound from Ceylon (Sri Lanka) with invalided soldiers onboard as well as civilians. Summoning the captain of the Morning Star aboard his ship, de Soto was enraged that the captain took his time. Shouting ‘thus does Benito de Soto reward those who disobey him!’ he swung his cutlass and split the unfortunate captain’s head in two. Following his normal practice, de Soto looted the ship, the pirate crew raped the women, and then the survivors were locked below deck, holes were bored in the ship, and it was left to sink. The survivors managed to plug the holes and keep the Morning Star afloat, and they were luckily rescued the next day. De Soto sold his spoils in Spain, although the Black Joke was wrecked off Cadiz. A soldier from the Morning Star happened to recognise de Soto in Gibraltar, where he was captured, tried and hung. At his hanging, de Soto coolly rearranged the noose around his neck to achieve a cleaner death.9

  Perhaps the most infamous of the Cuban-based pirates was the Spaniard Pedro Gibert, who commanded the slave schooner Panda. On a voyage from Havana to West Africa in September 1832, the Panda overtook the American brig Mexican, heading from Salem, Massachusetts, to Rio de Janeiro, with $20,000 in silver onboard in order to purchase goods in Brazil. One of the sailors from the Mexican, John Battis, tells the story of what happened. The Panda fired a shot and ordered the Mexican to heave to, following which five of the pirates came aboard the Mexican. One of the five pirates had already asked Gibert what to do with the crew, to which Gibert reportedly replied, ‘Dead cats don’t mew – have her thoroughly searched and bring aboard all you can – you know what to do with them.’ The pirates searched the Mexican:

  …three of the pirates on deck sprang on Larcomb [a sailor on the Mexican] and myself, striking at us with the long knives across our heads. A scotch cap I happened to have on with a large cotton handkerchief inside, saved me from a severe wounding as both were cut through and through. Our mate, Mr. Reed, here interfered and attempted to stop them from assaulting us whereupon they turned on him.

  All the sailors of the Mexican survived the intial boarding because the pirates needed the crew to pass up the bags of silver to the deck and onto the waiting boat from the Panda. The captain of the Mexican, Butman, was also beaten up, with the specific object of finding out if any more money was aboard. The pirates followed the normal pattern by saying that if any more undeclared money was found, they would cut the throats of all onboard. Luckily, the $700 Butman had hidden in a false bottom to his chest was not found, and nor was the $50 belonging to the crew of the Mexican, which was hidden down in the keel between the inner and outer planking of the ship.10

  Now came the most dangerous part of the game – the pirates had what they wanted – would they kill the crew? Battis recalls that at this moment all of the Mexican’s crew was below, but he decided to take a quick look and see what was going on, ‘as I did so, a cocked pistol was pressed to my head and I was ordered to come on deck and went, expecting to be thrown overboard. One took me by the collar and held me out at arm’s length to plunge a knif
e into me. I looked him right in the eye and he dropped the knife …’ Then the pirates ordered Battis to get the forecastle doors from below and fix them so as to lock the crew below decks:

  …as I was letting the last one [door] in I caught the gleam of a cutlass being drawn, so taking the top of the door on my stomach, I turned a quick somersault and went head down first into the forecastle. The cutlass came down, but did not find me … Then they hauled the slide over and fastened it, and we were all locked below.

  For the next hour, the crew of the Mexican heard the pirates destroying the rigging, spars, and sails of the Mexican. Lastly, the pirates piled combustibles into the cook’s galley, and set fire to the ship. Then the pirates left the Mexican, and from the stern windows, Battis could see them rowing over to their own ship. Captain Butman kept calm, and first said a few prayers. After this, Butman found a way onto the deck and ordered the crew to pass him buckets of water, with which he damped down the fire while keeping out of sight of the Panda. Butman calculated that he had to stop the fire from spreading, but he should not put it out because he was sure the pirates would return if they saw the fire disappear.11

  Butman was correct because Pedro Gibert was furious to discover that his pirates had not obeyed orders and killed the crew of the Mexican. Gibert actually wanted to return and finish the job, but apparently the smoke convinced him that the Mexican was doomed, so the Panda sailed away. The crew of the Mexican put out the fire after the Panda had disappeared, then repaired the ship, and eventually reached Salem in October 1832. As for Gibert and the Panda, they were run down on the west coast of Africa by a Royal Navy ship, and most of the crew captured, including Gibert. They were shipped to England in irons, and then to Salem for trial, arriving in 1834. At the trial, death was the sentence for those found guilty, which included Gibert. Before he was hung, Gibert tried to commit suicide with a piece of glass, but this was prevented, and he was duly executed. By the time of this 1834 trial, piracy in Atlantic and American waters, usually originating from Cuba, had essentially come to an end.12

  Modern Chinese Piracy: Taking Over Steamers

  Across the Pacific, piracy in China never really seems to have gone away. In the 1850s, pirate fleets of junks were operating in the South China Sea, while an American pirate named Eli Boggs had joined a fleet of pirate junks in Fuchow Bay, in the Liaotung Peninsula. This Eli Boggs had allegedly once boarded a junk and killed fifteen of its occupants single handedly with pistol and sword. He now served onboard a formidable pirate fleet of pilongs (junks of ninety to 200 tons, which carried six to fourteen guns each, as large as twenty-four pounders, with crews of fifty pirates). In September 1855, Captain Vansittart of HM brig Bitterne was searching for Boggs and sighted a pirate fleet of thirty to forty pilongs near Liaotung. Bitterne destroyed eight pilongs with gunnery, and then went in search of the others. Along the way Bitterne was able to release about 100 trading junks being held by the pirates for ransom off Yingkow. Reportedly, one rich Chinese trader had been cut into four pieces by the pirates and his body sent ashore in buckets to persuade the ransom of others to be paid immediately. The Bitterne then sighted another pirate junk anchored very close to shore, so a cutter was sent to take over the junk. But the junk blew up, and Eli Boggs was seen to dive overboard. An American, Captain William Hayes, known as ‘Bully’ Hayes, was onboard the pursuing cutter, and he dove into the water to catch Eli Boggs. He caught up with Boggs, who was armed with a sword, but Hayes caught Boggs’ wrist, and punched him hard on the jaw. Boggs was pulled onboard the cutter, unconscious. Boggs was tried in Hong Kong in 1857, and was acquitted of murder due to lack of witnesses, but found guilty of piracy. He was transported for life. Ironically, ‘Bully’ Hayes later turned to piracy himself in the South Pacific.13

  Moving forward in time, Chinese piracy continued, especially in the period before the First World War and in the period before the Second World War. This type of piracy abandoned the usual pirate fleet of junks, and concentrated on taking over passenger steamers in order to seize valuables onboard and demand ransom where appropriate. The method was for Chinese pirates to come onboard the target steamer by booking legitimate tickets for passage, and having weapons delivered onboard to them by stevedores or by accomplices. Sometimes these accomplices were women and children. A typical pirate attack of this type took place in 1913, when the Tai On passenger steamer left Hong Kong for the West River, carrying 513 passengers and crew. At about 10p.m. on 27 April 1913, the captain, Weatherell, heard gunshots, and ran out of his cabin with a ten bore shot gun. He immediately saw the chief engineer grappling with a Chinese pirate, and Weatherell shot the pirate, who fell backwards. On the bridge, Weatherell saw another Chinese pirate climbing up, and shot him too. On the other side of the bridge, more pirates were firing through the steel grill that protected the bridge, and Weatherell returned the fire. Other officers supported him, and especially a Portuguese guard who shot five of the pirates. But then the pirates set fire to the forward part of the ship, a tactic that was often employed when the initial attack was foiled. Passengers started to jump overboard, while Weatherell and the chief engineer managed to turn the steamer into the wind, so that the flames shifted to the stern of the ship. But the fire had taken hold, and Weatherell and his officers also jumped overboard. Previously, the chief officer had fired distress flares, and a number of steamers came to the rescue, so that some 160 passengers and crew were pulled from the water, including some of the pirates, who were indistinguishable from the other survivors, having got rid of their weapons. But a number of pirates were identified later, and detained in Victoria Jail, Hong Kong.14

  Throughout the 1920s, very similar attacks were carried out on a number of steamships, despite the use of steel grills to defend vital areas, and the presence of armed guards. Thus, the steamship Sunning, en route from Shanghai to Canton, calling in at Amoy and Hong Kong, with 116 onboard, was pirated just off Amoy on 15 November 1926. At around 4p.m., the second officer suddenly fell flat on his face – he had been tripped up by a pirate. He shouted out ‘Pirates!’, but it was too late, groups of Chinese pirates onboard had taken over key areas of the ship. There were some fifty pirates involved. The second engineer was hit over the head with a glass bottle, while the chief engineer was hit on the head with the teapot he had just been using. The Chinese pirates herded the ship’s officers into an office, while the pirates searched for the comprador, the man responsible for any bullion carried onboard. The comprador carried the only keys to the strong room, so he quickly changed into greasy overalls, and pretended to be part of the engine room. Five of his men very bravely refused to identify him – one was shot dead, and the other four thrown overboard. The Sunning was then directed to sail toward the islands at the entrance to Bias Bay, sixty miles east of Hong Kong. The ship’s officers decided to fight back before these islands were reached, and at midnight, one officer on the bridge suddenly hit two of the pirates over the head with the deep-sea lead, and the counter attack was under way. Ultimately, the ship’s officers gathered on the bridge and beat back pirate attacks with revolver fire, including one attack in which the pirates used a human shield of one officer ahead of them, who unfortunately was shot. True to form, the next move by the pirates was to start a fire aboard, but the captain was able to swing the ship around by letting go the anchor, which drove the fire to the stern. Frustrated, the pirates left by life boat, after which the crew of the Sunning was able to put the fire out. Later, some of the pirates were picked up, others had been killed in the fighting, and six were tried and executed in 1927.15

  Lai Choi San

  It was at this time, in late 1926, that the Hong Kong authorities pleaded with the Chinese government in Beijing to put an end to the pirate bases, especially the famous pirate nest at Bias Bay. Little effort was made by the Chinese government, who pleaded inability, but in their place the Hong Kong police waged a long war against the pirates. Similarly, the Royal Navy also patrolled the area, and actually attacked Bias B
ay in March 1927, destroying forty pirate junks and burning 140 houses in the village. This action did not bring piracy to an end, as described by the journalist Aleko Lilius, who managed to ship aboard a pirate junk, and visit Bias Bay in 1929. As it happened, the pirate junk he joined was run by a female pirate chief, Lai Choi San. She had inherited pirate junks from her father, added some more herself, and now ran a fleet of twelve armed junks. Her principal method was to collect protection money from the fishing fleets around Macao and Canton, with a guarantee to protect them from other pirate fleets. She also aimed to capture trading junks in order to receive cash for letting them go, and another venture was to hold captured Chinese for ransom. As was normal, refusal to pay the ransom was followed by a finger, ear or nose of the unfortunate captive in order to move the payment along, and then other body parts, if the ransom was still not paid. Final refusal to pay a ransom usually led to death for the captive. In this environment, Lai Choi San prospered, so that her name appropriately meant ‘The Mountain of Wealth’. Lai Choi San was married twice, had two sons, and went to sea as undisputed captain of her fleet. When ashore she dressed in a white satin robe with green jade buttons and green silk slippers, but onboard she wore a glossy black jacket and trousers, as worn by many working Chinese women. She did not join in the fighting herself, but directed operations. She had two women amahs with her, who were armed and did fight as required.