Sam Bellamy, who referred to the core crew of his pirate
ship as “Robin Hood’s men,” and was dreaming of starting a pirate revolution,
had just taken on 130 additional crew, pirates who had been left behind when
their ship was destroyed by the HMS Scarborough.
Well supplied with crew, and in control of two ships, the Sultana and the Marianne, Bellamy needed time to organize and hide out form the
January storms. He decided on a bold move.
He was near the British Virgin Islands, and decided to
attack their capital, Spanish Town. Though the home of the governor, the island
had only 325 inhabitants, most of them children who had been born there. When
Bellamy, with two pirate ships, and 210 pirates arrived, the authorities had no
choice but to surrender.
Bellamy and his crew treated the city as if were a
captured ship, going where they pleased and taking what they wanted. There wasn’t
much. The pirates enjoyed fresh food, and Bellamy received gifts of money from
the less reputable colonists (a fact which outraged the governor.) When the
pirates sailed away two weeks later, several servants and bond slaves went with
them.
Bellamy headed for the Windward Passage in the northeast Caribbean,
where he hoped to ambush a larger more powerful vessel to serve as his
flagship. The one he found was the Whydah.
Built only a year before, and intended for the slave
trade, the Whydah was a huge ship,
300 tons, heavily armed and built for speed. Nonetheless, the captain ordered
his ship to flee. The pirates gave chase. Three days and 300 miles later, they
caught up.
As with his first pirating venture, Bellamy was facing a
larger ship that was prepared to fight. Once again, he decided to use terror
before force. He instructed all of his crew to dress as wildly as possible. The
pirates donned stolen coats and wigs, jeweled cuff links, expensive hats and fine
linen shirts, then lined up along the ship’s rails. On these hardened, weather beaten
men, the fine clothes cold only be seen as what they were – the spoils of war.
The pirates screamed out their war cries and brandished pistols, cutlasses, and
primitive hand grenades. Even more frightening were the 30 former African
slaves, armed and assimilated into Bellamy’s crew.
The Whydah, an
18-gun ship much larger than either of Bellamy’s vessels, surrendered without a
fight.
The pirates boarded their prize to find her under the
command of Lawrence Prince, a man whom Bellamy may have known personally.
Prince was relieved to find the pirates in an excellent mood, and feeling
generous. They planned to take his ship, but agreed to leave him the Sultana, some supplies, and £20 cash in exchange.
Prince also asked for and received all the cargo the pirates found too bulky or
troublesome to transport to their new ship.
The exchange took several days, and during it, the pirate
bragged that they had £30,000
in gold. The merchant sailors were amazed to see that the plunder was not
secured in any way. The pirates simply left bags of cash in an open room, trusting
each other to ask the quartermaster to get them whatever funds they needed and
keep account of the shares.
The Whydah was
not carrying slaves. Bellamy, who had been kidnapping skilled carpenters from
the ships he plundered, added ten cannons to the ship’s armament, stripping the
Sultana of her guns. He then cut the
raised platforms from the front and rear of the ship. Like a young man souping
up a hot-rod, Bellamy cut away the parts of his new ship he didn’t need, making
her lighter and more streamlined. As a slaver, the Whydah had needed secure, raised areas from which armed men could
police the living cargo. Bellamy wanted a vessel where no man stood above
another.
He also moved the ship’s bell forward. Though not immediately
apparent to modern readers, this was a radical move. Ships carried their bells
near the wheel, the steering apparatus, which was located on a raised quarterdeck.
This was officer’s territory, and the
bell gave the men their orders, marking time for beginning and ending work
shifts, meals and special assemblies. When Bellamy changed the location of the
bell, he changed the location of the ship’s heart, from the stern, where the
officers worked, to the bow, where common sailors worked and played.
When the Sultana
sailed away, the pirates held an assembly to decide what to do with their new
ship. It was decided to sail north. The ship’s quartermaster, Paulsgrave
Williams, had family in Rhode Island. He wanted to visit them, give them his
share of the plunder, and possibly persuade them to act as fences for stolen
items. Sam wanted to go back to Mary Hallett in Boston. They intended to rob
ships along the way.
Williams was now in charge of the Marianne. It was now March of 1717, and a profitable pirating
season seemed assured. They agreed that, if they were separated, they would
meet on Damariscove Island in Maine.
The pirates took their first ship almost immediately, and
added a French crew member who wanted to be a pirate. Their next prize was captained
by a man named Beer. The pirates plundered his small sloop in under two hours,
while Beer was held captive on the largest pirate ship he had ever seen.
Despite Bellamy’s wishes, the pirate crew voted to burn the little ship. Beer
later recorded Bellamy’s words.
“Damn my blood, I am sorry they won’t let you have your
sloop again, for I scorn to do anyone a mischief when it is not to my
advantage. Damn the sloop, we must sink her and she might have been use to you.”
Then, referring to Beer’s refusal to join the pirates,
Bellamy went on. “Damn ye, ye are a sneaking puppy, and so are all who admit to
be governed by laws rich men have made for their own security, for the cowardly
whelps have not the courage otherwise to defend what they get by their knavery.
But damn ye altogether! Damn them as a pack of crafty rascals. And you
(captains and sailors) who serve them, a passel of hen-hearted numbskulls! They
vilify us, the scoundrels do, where there is only this difference: they rob the
poor under the cover of law, while we plunder the rich under the cover of our
own courage.”
Bellamy turned his gaze back to Beers and added, “Would
you not better make one of us than to go sneaking after the asses of those villains
for employment?”
It took a long time for Beers to answer. He replied that
he “could not find it in himself to break the laws of God and man.”
Bellamy seemed disgusted. “You are a conscientious rascal,
damn ye,” he said. “I am a free Prince, and I have as much authority to make
war on the whole world as he who has a hundred ships at sea and 100,000 men in
the field. And this my conscience tells me…” He broke off. “There is no arguing
with sniveling puppies who allow superiors to kick them about the deck at
pleasure and who pin their faith upon a parson, a squab who neither practices nor
believes what he tells the chuckle-headed fools he preaches to.”
Bellamy had stated his manifesto, a declaration of war
against the world, its authority figures, and the ministers who claimed to
represent God. And it had been written down, one of the few times a pirate’s
words were recorded at the height of his power.
Next week… Storm on the horizon.
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