The situation in Nassau remained tense throughout January 1718. Several pirate vessels returned with a number of well-laden prizes that served as a reminder of the benefits of piracy. These included the Mary Galley of Bristol, her holds packed with bottled liquor, and three large French ships carrying brandy, white wine, and claret. Hornigold brought in two well-armed Dutch merchant ships taken off Vera Cruz, Mexico; one had twenty-six guns, enough to reinforce Fort Nassau, while the other, the Younge Abraham of Flushing, Netherlands, had forty, as well as a large parcel of poorly cured animal hides whose influence would soon gravely effect life on Nassau.
The pirates held a general council to resolve their differences but, in the words of A General History of the Pyrates, "there was so much noise and clamour that nothing could be agreed on." Vane's camp argued that they should fortify the island, forcing King George to negotiate while they awaited word from James Stuart's court-in-exile. Jennings, on the other hand, insisted that they should take the pardon and surrender "without more ado," turning the island over to the royal governor whenever he showed up. The divisions "so disconcerted" the assembled pirates "that their Congress broke up very abruptly without doing anything."
After that, almost everyone on New Providence seemed to be packing up. The diehards began fitting out the ships and sloops in the harbor, preparing for what could be long and arduous cruises. Christopher Winter and Nicholas Brown were sailing to Cuba to shelter themselves among the Spaniards. Edmund Condent and ninety-seven other men signed aboard the sloop Dragon, which they fit out for a cruise to Africa and Brazil. Vane and sixteen followers acquired control of the sloop Lark and hid her in a secluded anchorage nearby where they modified her for pirate service. Meanwhile, other residents were sailing to take the pardon in neighboring British colonies. Jennings and fifteen of his men went to Bermuda in the Barsheba and received pardons from Governor Bennett. Others booked passage on merchant sloops bound for South Carolina, Rhode Island, and Jamaica. Hornigold stayed in Nassau, but sent a sloop to Jamaica with eighty of his men; he must have feared for his safety among the antipardon pirates, because he instructed the departing men to ask naval authorities in Port Royal to send a warship to Nassau for "protection."
By then, a Royal Navy frigate was in fact on its way, but from New York rather than Jamaica.
***
Captain Vincent Pearse, commander of the sixth-rate HMS Phoenix, received word of the proclamation on Christmas Day, during a heavy snowstorm that had slowed the postal riders from Boston. While the captains of other naval vessels took in the news of the proclamation passively, carrying on with business as usual, Pearse was young, ambitious, and ready to take the news directly to the pirates. He received the blessing of New York's governor and immediately began readying his ship, which was hunkered down for the winter, rolling guns back into place, securing supplies, and remounting topmasts and other rigging.
Pearse knew his frigate would need every advantage if the pirates proved hostile. The Phoenix was one of Britain's smallest frigates. At 273 tons and ninety-three feet in length, she was no bigger than a large pirate ship like the Whydah or Queen Anne's Revenge, and she carried less firepower. During the previous year, the Admiralty had removed the four quarterdeck guns she had carried in wartime, leaving the frigate with only twenty six-pound cannon. She was also vulnerable to boarding, having a peacetime complement of only ninety men. Nor was she particularly well built. As her name suggests, the Phoenix was originally built as a fireship, intended to be filled with combustibles, set on fire, and sailed into an enemy's battle fleet, her crew planning to get away at the last moment in an escape boat. As he set sail for Nassau on the afternoon of February 5, Captain Pearse must have hoped he wasn't getting in over his head.
On the morning of February 23, the Phoenix arrived at the main entrance to Nassau harbor, her men glancing nervously at the guns of the decaying fort and the death's head flag flying from its mast. Anchored in the harbor were fourteen vessels flying the colors of many nations: Dutch, English, French, Spanish, and the black or red flags favored by the pirates. Five were large ships, including the well-armed Dutch prizes brought in by Hornigold, as well as the Mary Galley, the unarmed French wine ship, and a small English merchantman. The other nine, Pearse later wrote in his log, "were traders with these pyrates, but pretended they never did it till [after] the Act of Grace was published."
Pearse ordered his lieutenant, Mr. Symonds, to assemble a landing party to take copies of the proclamation ashore. As the Phoenix's long boat slowly made its way into the harbor, Symonds holding aloft a white flag of truce, the pirates had a moment of reckoning. They could easily drive off the Phoenix; in addition to the guns in the fort, pirates were already onboard the thirty-six-gun Younge Abraham and the other twenty-six-gun Dutch ship. If they did so, there would be considerable loss of life, and none of the survivors would have any chance of obtaining a pardon. Hornigold, the most experienced and influential pirate on the island at the time, counseled a conciliatory approach. Those who wished to take the pardon and return to civilized society could do so; those who did not could still take the pardon, using it to their advantage to buy themselves more time. The rank-and-file agreed. When Symonds stepped onto the beach, proclamation in hand "he was received by a great number of Pirates with much Civility," Pearse's logbook attests. The lieutenant read the now-familiar proclamation aloud to the pirates, who greeted it with what he took to be "a great deal of joy."
Symonds was ashore for a few hours, during which time he was briefed by members of the pro-pardon faction. They wished to rid themselves of the inflammatory Charles Vane more than anyone else in the antipardon camp, and told the lieutenant how to find his secret anchorage. The pro-pardon pirates must have taken pleasure in watching the Phoenix sail out of the harbor in pursuit of their nemesis;Vane's allies watched with trepidation.
Pearse found Vane's sloop tucked in behind a little islet called Buskes Cay, just where his informants said it would be. He placed the Phoenix so that it blocked the entrance to the anchorage, then gave the order to commence firing on her.
Aboard the Lark, Vane's company had little choice but to surrender. As six-pound cannonballs splashed around their little vessel, the sixteen men concocted a cover story. They would tell the Phoenix's commander that they had been preparing not to go pirating, but rather to sail to Nassau to see him and learn about the king's pardon. With this in mind, Vane and his new quartermaster, a fearless Irishman named Edward England, sailed to the Phoenix and surrendered.
Pearse was not fooled by Vane's story and seized the Lark in the name of King George, taking Vane and company into custody. Although the sun was setting, Pearse felt confident they could find their way back to Nassau, so the Phoenix sailed through the night, arriving in the morning. He dropped anchor in thirty feet of water, the Lark anchoring nearby. Following the protocol of the day, the pirates aboard the two Dutch ships fired their guns in salute of His Majesty's ship, a sign that they recognized its authority.
Shortly thereafter, a number of boats rowed out from town, carrying what Pearse described as "their commanders and ringleaders": Hornigold, Francis Lesley, Josiah Burgess, and Thomas Nichols. Pearse recalled their conversation in his logbook later that day. They "informed me that my taking the sloop had very much alarm[ed] all, the Pyrats in general believing that [Vane and the other] men taken in her would be executed." The pirate commanders assured Pearse that if he set Vane's company free, it "would be a very great means to induce [the inhabitants of Nassau] to surrender and accept the Act of Grace." Pearse, mindful of his tenuous position, took the pirate commanders' advice and had Vane, England, and the other fourteen men released, assuring them "of his Majesty's goodness towards them." He kept the Lark, however, assigning some of his men to fit her out as a trading vessel. Pearse informed the pirate commanders that Woodes Rogers, the famous circumnavigator who had captured a Manila galleon during the war, had been appointed governor of the Bahamas and was expected in Nassa
u that summer. He added that he was willing to give each man who wished to accept the king's pardon a signed certificate that would afford them some degree of protection until Rogers arrived, or while the pirates were in transit to other colonies to get pardons from their governors. Hornigold, Vane, and the other pirate commanders rowed ashore, promising to do their best to convince those ashore to take the pardon.
After the pirates left, it started to rain and continued throughout the following day. Pearse waited in his steamy cabin for word from shore. On the second morning, February 26, 1718, a stream of boats began rowing through the rain, each filled with pirates who wished to surrender. Pearse received them throughout the next two days, acknowledging their capitulations, signing their certificates of protection, and adding their names to a growing list of soon-to-be-pardoned pirates. The first boatloads included Hornigold, Williams, Burgess, Lesley, and Nichols, as well as Bellamy's old quartermaster, Richard Noland, and Hornigold's quartermaster, John Martin. Pearse's list grew from fifty names to a hundred, and eventually to 209, a veritable Who's Who of Golden Age Pirates. It soon included most of Hornigold's original partners back in his periagua days—Thomas Terrill, John Cockram, and Daniel Stillwell; Henry Jennings's fellow privateer Leigh Ashworth; and several men whose pirate careers were far from over, including Samuel Moody and Charles Vane. At the end of his first week in the Bahamas, Pearse felt he had gained the upper hand. Instead of the several thousand pirates he had expected to find upon his arrival, there had been only 500 "young resolute fellows," in Pearse's words, "a paridor of unthinking people."
Many pirates had no intention of quitting piracy at all and soon started to show signs of their impatience with the Phoenix's presence. On March 1, Pearse raised all the frigate's signal flags, decking her out in celebration of the birthday of King George's eldest son and heir, the Prince of Wales. Some Jacobite-minded pirates responded by setting an English merchant ship on fire, spoiling the festive atmosphere.
Meanwhile, Vane and his followers were quietly preparing a return to piracy. Late on the night of the sixteenth, he and sixteen men climbed into a boat on Nassau's landing beach and rowed quietly past the Phoenix and out past the harbor's wide western entrance. The next night, twenty-four more pirates left to rendezvous with the Bahamas' new pirate commodore.
Vane took stock of his men. Edward England, his quartermaster, was smart and courageous, a veteran mate in the merchant marine who had been forced by Christopher Winter some time earlier. He had since become a committed pirate, though he was more moderate than Vane himself. "England was one of these Men who seemed to have such a share of reason as should have taught him better things" than to turn pirate, the author of the General History of the Pyrates wrote of him."He had a great deal of good nature and did not want for courage. He would have been contented with moderate plunder and less mischievous pranks ... but he was generally over-ruled and, as he was engaged in that abominable society, he was obliged to be a partner in all their vile actions." Vane's "abominable society" consisted of forty men. John Rackham stood out from the rest because of his strange habit of wearing clothes made from brightly printed Indian Calico; the other men had already taken to calling him Calico Jack. All Vane's company had were two boats and a pile of small arms but, then, that was all Hornigold, Blackbeard, and Bellamy had had when they started out. If Captain Pearse and Governor Bennett thought piracy in the Bahamas was over, Vane had some surprises in store for them.
***
For several days, Vane's company lurked east of Nassau, waiting for an opportunity. On March 21, perfect conditions presented themselves. The wind was light and kept changing direction, making it possible for the pirates to overtake a sailing vessel with their rowboats. A trading sloop from Jamaica came around the eastern end of New Providence, slowly drifting toward the narrow, eastern entrance of Nassau harbor. As she passed nearby, Vane's men rowed the boats out of their hiding place and, with ropes and grappling hooks, swarmed aboard the little sloop. Her crew surrendered without a fight. The pirates now needed somewhere secure to plunder and refit their prize. They decided on Nassau Harbor, right under the nose of the troublesome Captain Pearse.
Vane's men were to exploit the peculiar geography of Nassau Harbor. One of the reasons the pirates had chosen Nassau as their base was that in addition to its main entrance to the west, the harbor offered a back door—a narrow but passable channel at its eastern end, through which a knowledgeable navigator might pass in a sloop. Near this entrance, a low sandbar called Potter's Cay split the harbor nearly in two: Any vessel drawing more than eight feet of water could not pass over the sandy shoals on either side of this islet. The Phoenix was anchored on the western side of this shoal and was too large to cross. The pirates could sail their sloop through the eastern passage and plunder their prize behind Potter's Cay in full view of Captain Pearse.
It was political theater par excellence. The renegade pirates came into the harbor, a red or "bloody" flag flying from the top of their mast, dropped anchor in the secure basin, and began boisterously plundering their prize in full view of the Phoenix. Vane put the sloop's crew ashore on Potter's Cay, from where they could swim to town, but they kept her captain, promising to return his little vessel as soon as they captured another more to their liking. They celebrated through the evening, the sounds of their revelry beckoning the pirates ashore to resume their illicit trade.
Captain Pearse knew he was being made to look the fool. All of the Bahamas knew that he had released Vane from captivity and signed his certificate of pardon. Now he had the audacity to taunt him. Something had to be done, and quickly. He called his officers together and outlined a plan.
At one in the morning, after the sound of the pirates' festivities had died down, Pearse armed a contingent of his men and ordered them into the largest of the Phoenix's boats. As silently as possible, they rowed across the darkened harbor, around Potter's Cay, and on toward the pirate sloop, hoping to catch her by surprise. Vane had posted a watch, however, and as the naval party came within musket range they were greeted with a fusillade of small-arms fire. The Phoenix's men returned fire, but after a few exchanges it was clear that the pirates were far too strong for them, and they had to make a hasty retreat. The Royal Navy had tried to flex its muscles but had been forced to run instead.
This brief engagement greatly boosted the morale of Nassau's pirates. Suddenly the man-of-war looked vulnerable, and Vane's men heroic. Overnight the mood shifted from resignation to defiance. "I several times summoned the inhabitants together in His Majesty's name and used all the arguments possible to prevail with them to assist me in suppressing the said pirate," Pearse later wrote."But they always rejected all methods I proposed. [They] entertained and assisted [Vane's company] with provisions and necessaries, and on all occasions showed no small hatred to government."
From then on, Pearse's situation deteriorated. On the evening of March 23, he left the harbor to convoy four sloops safely out of the Bahamas; he had a personal interest one of them, Vane's sloop, the Lark, which he had crewed with sailors from the Phoenix for a private for-profit trading mission to St. Augustine. When he returned six days later, he discovered a further affront to his authority. Nassau's pirates had burned the Younge Abraham and the Mary Galley, and had run the twenty-six-gun Dutch ship aground on Hog Island. On March 31, Vane returned to his sanctuary in the eastern basin of Nassau Harbor to taunt Pearse with his latest prize, the Lark, which he had captured despite Pearse's efforts. Most worrisome, three of the Royal Navy sailors he had put aboard the Lark had defected to Vane's crew. Not only was Pearse outmanned and outgunned, he had to worry that his own sailors were regarding the pirates as heroes.
As they transferred cannon and supplies to the Lark, Vane's men yelled insults at the Phoenix, which Vane loudly threatened to burn. Then they boldly rowed across the western basin to town, passing near the man-of-war. Pearse opened fire at the boat with both cannonballs and partridge shot and ordered the pirates to come aboa
rd the Phoenix. They ignored these orders and the ordnance splashing in the water around them and proceeded to town.
In just three days, Vane's gang grew from nineteen to upward of seventy-five. During this time he also captured two more sloops whose captains, unaware of the danger, had anchored alongside the pirates. Pearse tried to warn the sloops by hoisting his topgallant sails "with sheets flying," but to no avail.
On April 4, Vane raised a black flag to the masthead of the Lark, and sailed out to sea. With a nimble six-gun sloop and a proper company of men, Vane was in a position to bring all commerce in the Bahamas to a standstill. He had little sympathy for his victims, especially the merchant-smugglers of Harbour Island, who had capitulated to Pearse the moment he showed the British ensign. They would pay a price for their disloyalty to the pirate republic.
Even with Vane gone, Captain Pearse found himself in an untenable position. The pirates "have altered their treatment and sent threateningly to the Captain ... to be gone or it should be worse for him," Governor Bennett reported after debriefing pirates who sought pardon in Bermuda. "I conclude all have surrendered that intends [to] and ... I fear they will soon multiply for too many [sailors] are willing to join with them when [their vessels are] taken."
Pearse did his best not to show weakness, but on April 6 his carpenter accidentally set the Phoenix on fire while boiling tar in the galley. The crew quickly got the fire under control, but the symbolic damage was irreparable. Two days later, the Phoenix raised its anchors and, in the company of five merchant sloops, sailed out of the harbor, bound for New York. In a final embarrassment to the captain, he ran aground on the way out. For a few hours, the residents of Nassau watched the Phoenix's men work to free her. Then she was gone, leaving Nassau in pirate hands once again.
The Republic of Pirates: Being the True and Surprising Story of the Caribbean Pirates and the Man Who Brought Them Down Page 25
