Skip to content

Crime Poems: Competing Accounts of Moses Paul and the First Native American Publication

Click image to read more Crime Poems

When Mrs. Clark refused to let Moses Paul, a Native American, “have a dram” at Clark’s Tavern in Bethany, CT on a Saturday night, he was incensed. He became so disorderly, in fact, that he was forcibly removed from the tavern, but not before he vowed to exact revenge.

Not long after the disturbance, Moses Cook, who was staying at the tavern as a lodger, stepped outside. Paul, who had been lying in wait, ambushed Cook and hit him on the head with a flat iron. The blow broke Cook’s “scull in so terrible a manner, that he died of the wound.” Paul was apprehended the next day and thrown in the New Haven jail to await trial.

This account of the altercation that took place that Saturday night on December 7, 1771 served as the basis for finding Moses Paul guilty of willful murder. But court records of Paul’s attempt to appeal the judgment reveal that a much different set of events possibly took place on that fateful night.

The Life of Moses Paul

Paul was born in Barnstable, MA in 1742. His father died in the Siege of Louisburg in 1745, and his mother died not long afterward. Paul’s only memory of her was that she regularly attended church services at the Presbyterian Meeting House.

At age five, Paul was bound as an apprentice to John Manning of Windham, who saw that Paul was taught to read and write and was instructed in Christian principles. Paul left the Manning family six or seven years later and followed in his father’s footsteps by joining the army.

While in the army, Paul “contracted many sinful Habits,” habits that were reinforced when he left the army and became a merchant sailor. He spent several years at sea and then retired to Connecticut. He tended to move from place to place, though, and in September 1771, he ended up in Waterbury. During this time, he “liv’d in a very unsteady Way, often getting intoxicated with strong Drink, and following other dissolute Practices.”

In Clark’s Tavern

Moses Paul’s presence in Clark’s Tavern was not unusual. In 1669, Connecticut outlawed the sale of liquor to Native Americans, but the law was essentially ignored. Native American men and women regularly drank in taverns and socialized with Anglo-American clientele. But even though colonial Americans generally believed that the evil of drunkenness was universal, they also thought that Native Americans in particular could turn to violence and murder after consuming any amount of alcohol.

Paul had been drinking in the tavern before Mrs. Clark refused to serve him. In court records related to his appeal, Paul admitted that he let his anger over not being served get the better of him, but he maintained that his response was not alcohol-induced. He said his reaction stemmed from the belief that he had just as much right to be served as anyone else in the tavern and that the keepers actually owed him money.

When Paul started to put up a fuss, Moses Cook stepped into the situation and reprimanded Paul “in a most threatening imperious manner.” Cook began to force Paul out the door and in the process tied Paul’s legs up with one end of a rope and used the other end to beat him. Once outside, Cook threw the Native American eight-feet down a steep bank into a pile of snow and left him there. After about fifteen minutes, Cook returned with a whip and continued his assault, yelling at Paul to get up and calling him a “Drunken Dogg.”

After the beating, Paul asked to enter the tavern to retrieve some clothing he had left behind. Once he was inside, Cook continued to abuse Paul and shouted to one of the patrons, “Give me your Cane and I’ll still the Dogg!” When Paul saw Cook coming at him with the cane, he quickly grabbed a “Stick or Club which he then saw lying in his way”–not a flat iron, as was claimed in court during his conviction–and struck Cook in an act of self-defense. Paul later admitted that he used some “Vile, Threatening Language” while he was being beaten, but he insisted that he never intended to commit murder.

Appeal

As part of his appeal, Paul claimed that his trial occurred too close to when the event took place, when emotions were still running high, and that he was never given an opportunity to present his side of the story. He hoped that his verdict would be downgraded to manslaughter rather than willful murder, which would result in a punishment of branding rather than death. But the New Haven Superior Court denied Paul’s appeal.

Rev. Samson Occom

With his execution set to move forward, Paul selected fellow Native American Rev. Samson Occom to give the execution sermon. Occom was educated at Eleazar Wheelock’s Indian Charity School in Lebanon, CT and as a minister was a minor celebrity given his ethnic background. (Occom raised a huge sum of money for Wheelock’s school by giving sermons and collecting donations throughout England and Scotland, but he cut ties with the school when Wheelock used the money to move it to Hanover, NH to start educating whites for the ministry rather than Native Americans. The school later became Dartmouth College.)

The stormy weather on the day of Paul’s execution on September 2, 1772 was not enough to discourage a “very great Concourse of People” from showing up. It turns out the members of the crowd were just as curious to witness an execution in person–the last one that took place in New Haven was in 1749–as to hear a Native American conduct a sermon.

Paul’s execution marks the beginning of a stretch in time when Native American, African American, and foreign-born (mainly Irish) criminals were disproportionately executed in New England. Such bias appears to be at work as much today as it was then. As recently reported in the New York Times, a major study of murder sentencing by Stanford Law professor John Donohoe shows that minority defendants whose victims were white are far more likely to receive the death penalty than other defendants.

The First Native American Publication

After Paul’s execution, Occom was pressured to publish the sermon he gave on that day, and it was so successful that it appeared in multiple editions well into the early 19th century. The sermon is widely attributed as being the first published work by a Native American, although another publication connected with Paul’s execution —A Letter from J—h J—n, One of the Mohegan Tribe of Indians, to his Countryman, Moses Paul, Under Sentence of Death, in New-Haven Goal, which appeared on or before April 17, 1772–was most likely the first in this category.

However, a broadside was published and sold at Paul’s execution that purportedly put the sermon that Occom was about to give in verse. It is not clear whether Occom had any hand in its publication–the themes in the poem do not entirely match up with those in his public address–but if he did indeed write it, it would also supersede his sermon in what would qualify as the first Native American publication.

Mr. Occom’s Address
To His
Indian Brethren,
On the Day that Moses Paul, and Indian, was executed at
New Haven, on the 2d of September 1772, for the Murder of Moses Cook.
Put in Metre.

I.
MY Kindred Indians pray attend and hear,
With great Attention and with Godly Fear;
This Day I warn you of that cursed Sin,
That poor despised Indians wallow in.

II.
‘Tis Drunkennes, this is the Sin you know,
Has been and is poor Indians overthrow;
‘Twas Drunkennes that was the leading Cause,
That made poor Moses break God’s righteous Laws.

III.
When Drunk he other evil Courses took,
Thus hurried on, he murder’d Moses Cook;
Poor Moses Paul must now be hang’d this Day,
For willful Murder in a drunken Fray.

IV.
A dreadful Wo pronounc’d by God on high,
To all that in this Sin do lie;
O Devilish beastly Lust, accursed Sin,
Has almost stript us all of every Thing.

V.
We’ve nothing valuable or to our Praise,
And well may other Nations on us gaze;
We have no Money, Credit, or a Name,
But what this Sin does turn to our great Shame.

VI.
Mean are our Houses, and we are kept low,
And almost naked, shivering we go;
Pinch’d for Food and almost starv’d we are
And many times put up with stinking Fare.

VII.
Our little Children hovering round us weep,
Most starv’d to Death we’ve nought for them to eat;
All this Distress is justly on us come,
For the accursed use we make of Rum.

VIII.
A shocking dreadful Sight we often see,
Our Children young and tender, Drunkards be;
More shocking yet and awful to behold,
Our Women will get Drunk both young and old.

IX.
Behold a Drunkard in a Drunken Fit,
Incapable to go, stand, speak, or sit;
Deform’d in Soul and every other Part,
Affecting Sight! enough to melt one’s Heart.

X.
Sometimes he Laughs, and then a hideous Yell,
That almost equals the poor damn’d in Hell;
When drown’d in drink we know not what we do,
We are despis’d and scorn’d and cheated too.

XI.
On level with the Beasts, and far below
Are we when with strong Drink we reeling go;
Below the Devils when in this Sin we run,
A drunken Devil I never heard of one.

XII.
My kindred Indians, I intreat you all,
In this vile Sin never again to fall;
Fly to the Blood of CHRIST, for that alone
Can for this Sin and all your Sins atone.

XIII.
Tho’ Moses Paul is here alive and well,
This Night his Soul must be in Heaven or Hell;
O! do take Warning by this awful Sight,
And to a JESUS make a speedy Flight!

XIV.
You have no Lease of your short Time you know,
To Hell this Night you may be forc’d to go;
Oh! do embrace an offer’d CHRIST to Day,
And get a sealed Pardon while you may.

XV.
Behold a loving JESUS, see him Cry,
With earnestness of Soul, Why will ye die?
My kindred Indians come just as you be,
Then Christ and his Salvation you shall see.

XVI.
If you go on and still reject Christ’s Call,
‘Twill be too late his Curse will on you fall;
The Judge will doom you to that dreadful Place,
In Hell, where you shall never see his Face.

Sources

  • Caplan, Lincoln. “The Random Horror of the Death Penalty.” The New York Times, January 7, 2012. Website: http://www.nytimes.com/2012/01/08/opinion/sunday/the-random-horror-of-the-death-penalty.html.
  • Chamberlain, Ava. “The Execution of Moses Paul: A Story of Crime and Contact in Eighteenth-Century Connecticut.” The New England Quarterly 77:3 (Sept. 2004), 414-450.
  • Cohen, Daniel A. Pillars of Salt, Monuments of Grace: New England Crime Literature And the Origins of American Popular Culture, 1674-1860. Boston: University of Massachusetts Press, 2006.
  • Donohue, John. “Capital Punishment in Connecticut, 1973-2007: A Comprehensive Evaluation from 4686 Murders to One Execution.” Website: http://works.bepress.com/john_donohue/87/.
  • [Johnson, Joseph]. A Letter from J—h J—n, One of the Mohegan Tribe of Indians, to his Countryman, Moses Paul, Under Sentence of Death, in New-Haven Goal. [New London, 1772]. Database: America’s Historical Imprints, Readex/Newsbank.
  • “New-Haven, Dec. 6.” Connecticut Gazette, December 20, 1771, vol. VIII, issue 423, p. 3. Database: America’s Historical Newspapers, Readex/Newsbank.
  • “New-Haven, Dec. 27.” Connecticut Journal, December 27, 1771, issue 219, p. 4. Database: America’s Historical Newspapers, Readex/Newsbank.
  • “New-Haven, September 4.” Connecticut Journal, September 4, 1772, issue 255, p. 3. Database: America’s Historical Newspapers, Readex/Newsbank.
  • New-Haven, September 2, 1772. A Short Account of Moses Paul. [New Haven, 1772]. Database: America’s Historical Imprints, Readex/Newsbank.
  • Occom, Samson. Mr. Occom’s Address to his Indian Brethren. Boston and Newport, [1773]. Database: America’s Historical Imprints, Readex/Newsbank. A different edition is available on the website of the American Antiquarian Society: http://www.americanantiquarian.org/images/guidebook/nativeamerican/nativea-gb2.jpg.
  • —. A Sermon Preached at the Execution of Moses Paul. Boston: John Boyles, 1773. Database: America’s Historical Imprints, Readex/Newsbank.

Early American Criminals: Daniel Wilson: Horse Thief, Burglar, and Rapist

Go to Early American Criminals

Click image to read more Early American Criminals

Daniel Wilson was confident he could escape from prison one more time. He was being held in the Providence jail after committing a rape back in December 1773 in Smithfield, RI. He had escaped from the jail twice before, although both times he was caught and returned. But he vowed to himself on this early Sunday morning in April that this time was going to be different.

For his most recent escape from prison, Wilson copied the pattern of the key that locked his cell door and passed it to some friends. They used the pattern to create a pewter key, which they slipped back to Wilson. After making a few adjustments, Wilson used the key to open his cell door and walked out. With his newfound freedom, he proceeded to steal ten pairs of shoes from Jabez Pearce and sold nine of them. He then stole a horse from Jonathan Cobb and rode to Connecticut. But an advertisement for his capture provided enough information to lead to his return to the Providence jail.

Wilson had incentive to escape from prison this third time: he was scheduled for execution. Wilson feverishly filed off a rivet that held together an iron loop that circled around his waist and was attached to a chain. From there, he broke out of his handcuffs and fetters and began to groan loudly. The jailor came up to his cell to find out what was wrong. Wilson claimed he was ill and needed immediate attention, but as soon as the jailor opened the door, Wilson pushed him aside, ran from the room, and jumped out a second-story window.

“I Followed My Trade with Diligence”

Wilson was born in Bellingham, MA on June 25, 1749. He could not recall committing any transgressions during his youth, except that he once stole some apples out of a hold in the ground from an African American. At 17, he left home to learn carpentry from Abraham Joslyn in Mendon. After working three years for Joslyn, Wilson set up his own carpentry business in Bellingham and claimed, “I followed my trade with diligence, and to good advantage.”

At 23, Wilson met John Arnold of Gloucester. Arnold had received ten dollars from a Dr. Wood from Uxbridge to help him scare away a rival doctor with the last name of Willard. Arnold convinced Wilson and another man to participate in the scheme by offering them equal shares in the money. Arnold’s plan was to go to Dr. Willard one night and tell him that a patient needed his help right away. Wilson and the other confederate were to wait in hiding and, when the doctor appeared, jump out and terrorize him. Willard showed up at the designated place, but the plan did not go as scripted because he was able to run away from the two ruffians.

Even though the scheme failed, Wilson and Arnold maintained their friendship, and it was during this time that Arnold convinced Wilson to become a horse thief. Wilson’s first couple tries at his new profession failed, but he finally found success in stealing a horse from Dr. Dagget of Wrentham. He briefly kept the horse at Arnold’s, and then rode far out to Springfield to exchange it for another one. But Wilson was arrested for the crime nonetheless. He was committed to the Boston jail, and after being held six weeks, he offered money to Dagget to settle the affair and was let go without any further punishment.

But Wilson continued his thieving ways by stealing another horse in Grafton. Once again he was detected but was able to smooth the matter over with money. Lacking success as a horse thief, Wilson turned to burglary. He broke into a shop on the border of Waltham and Watertown and took some silk, velvet, and other articles, along with eight or ten dollars in money.

It was after he carried out this burglary that Wilson committed the rape that earned him a death sentence. Wilson’s Life and Confession does not provide any details about the rape except that the evidence against him clearly convinced the jury of his guilt.

One Hundred Pound Reward

After Wilson jumped out the window of the Providence jail during his escape, the sheriff rounded up a posse from the town to pursue him. The Deputy-Governor also issued a proclamation that offered a reward of 100 pounds for Wilson’s capture. Two days later on Tuesday morning, the posse seized Wilson in Mendon. This time, Wilson was placed under round-the-clock military watch until the appointed time of his execution arrived on April 29, 1774.

Over twelve thousand people showed up to see Wilson executed, including a number of armed townspeople who joined the prison guard to provide added security. Earlier that morning, an alarm was set off throughout the town when word arrived from Smithfield that a mob from the surrounding area was expected to gather to rescue Wilson. But no rescue attempt ever materialized.

Accounts say that Wilson “behaved in a very decent manner” as he stood before the gallows. After an hour of ceremony, he was finally executed in front of the approving crowd. His body was later taken down and given to his friends for burial.

Sources

  • Dialogue Between a Reverend Clergyman and Daniel Wilson. Boston: E. Russell, [1774]. Database: America’s Historical Imprints, Readex/Newsbank.
  • “Providence, April 2.” Norwich Packet, April 7, 1774, vol. I, issue 27, p. 3. Database: America’s Historical Newspapers, Readex/Newsbank.
  • “Providence, April 23.” Providence Gazette, April 23, 1774, vol. XI, issue 537, p. 3. Database: America’s Historical Newspapers, Readex/Newsbank.
  • “Providence, April 30.” Providence Gazette, April 30, 1774, vol. XI, issue 538, p. 3. Database: America’s Historical Newspapers, Readex/Newsbank.
  • “Providence, January 15.” Providence Gazette, January 15, 1774, vol. XI, issue 523, p. 3. Database: America’s Historical Newspapers, Readex/Newsbank.
  • “Providence, March 12.” Providence Gazette, March 12, 1774, vol. XI, issue 531, p. 3. Database: America’s Historical Newspapers, Readex/Newsbank.
  • Wilson, Daniel. The Life and Confession of Daniel Wilson. [Providence?, 1774]. Database: America’s Historical Imprints, Readex/Newsbank.

Crime Poems: The Three Counterfeiters

Click image to read more Crime Poems

In September 1766, Richard Hodges and John Newingham Clark were convicted by the Superior Court in Boston of breaking into a shop and stealing fifty pounds worth of goods. As punishment, they were each fined twenty pounds, ordered to pay triple damages, imprisoned for six months, and bound for good behavior for twelve months.

After their release from prison, it was not long before they were back in court. In April 1767, the two were tried and found guilty along with Magnus Mode of “Forging and making of Pewter and other mixed Metals sundry Pieces of false and counterfeit Money to the Likeness and Similitude of Spanish milled Dollars, Quarters of Dollars, and Pistareens.”

As punishment, each of them were ordered to stand in the pillory for one hour, to have one of their ears cropped, to be whipped 20 times on their naked back, and to spend one year at hard labor at the house of correction. Presumably, Hodges and Clark also lost their bondage for good behavior from their last transgression.

The three counterfeiters stood in the pillory in Charlestown, Boston on April 30, 1767. The following poetic broadside was published and sold at the event, and if the spectators did not already know what to expect from the spectacle, the poem provides some guidance.

(From American Memory, Library of Congress)


A few LINES on
Magnus Mode, Richard Hodges & J. Newington Clark.
Who are Sentenc’d to stand one Hour in the
Pillory at Charlestown;
To have one of their EARS cut off, and to be Whipped 20 Stripes at the public Whipping Post, for making and passing Counterfeit DOLLARS, &c.

BEHOLD the villains rais’d on high!
(The Post they’ve got attracts the eye:)
Both Jews and Gentiles all appear
To see them stand exalted here;
Both rich and poor, both young and old,
The dirty slut, the common scold:
What multitudes do them surround,
Many as bad as can be found.
And to encrease their sad disgrace
Throw rotten eggs into their face,
And pelt them fore with dirt and stones,
Nay, if they could wou’d break their bones.
Their malice to such height arise,
Who knows but they’ll put out their eyes:
But pray consider what you do
While thus expos’d to public view.
Justice has often done its part,
And made the guilty rebels smart;
But they went on did still rebel,
And seem’d to storm the gates of hell.
To no good counsel would they hear;
But now each one must loose an EAR,
And they although against their will
Are forc’d to chew this bitter pill;
And this day brings the villains hence
To suffer for their late offense;
They on th’ Pillory stand in view:
A warning sirs to me and you!
The drunkards song, the harlots scorn,
Reproach of some as yet unborn.
But now the Post they’re forc’d to hug,
But loath to take that nauseous drug
Which brings the blood from out their veins
And marks their back with purple stains.

From their disgrace, now warning take,
And never do your ruin make
By stealing, or unlawful ways;
(If you would live out all your days)
But keep secure from Theft and Pride;
Strive to have virtue on your side.
Despise the harlot’s flattering airs,
And hate her ways, avoid her snares;
Keep clear from Sin of every kind,
And then you’ll have true peace of Mind.

Visit the Library of Congress’s American Memory website to see the original broadside.

Sources

  • “Boston, May 4.” Boston Evening-Post, May 5, 1767, issue 1650, p. 2. Database: America’s Historical Newspapers: Readex/Newsbank.
  • Boston Post-Boy, September 15, 1766, issue 474, p. 3. Database: America’s Historical Newspapers: Readex/Newsbank.
  • “Extract of a Letter.” Boston Evening-Post, April 27, 1767, issue 1649, p. 2. Database: America’s Historical Newspapers: Readex/Newsbank.
  • A Few Lines on Magnus Mode, Richard Hodges & J. Newington Clark. [Boston, 1767]. Database: An American Time Capsule: Three Centuries of Broadsides and Other Ephemera: American Memory, Library of Congress.

Special Limited-Time Price Drop for Bound with an Iron Chain

Did you receive a Kindle, Nook, or other e-reader as a gift for the holidays?

Now you can load my Amazon.com bestselling book, Bound with an Iron Chain: The Untold Story of How the British Transported 50,000 Convicts to Colonial America, onto your e-reader for only $0.99.

This special promotion is available for only a limited time, so make sure to grab a copy before the price goes back up.

Early American Criminals: Samuel Bellamy’s Treasure

Go to Early American Criminals

Click image to read more Early American Criminals

It was love at first sight for Samuel Bellamy and Mary Hallett. According to local lore, when the two met on a spring evening in 1715 in a tavern in Eastham, MA on Cape Cod, they began to talk about marriage. But when Hallett’s wealthy parents put a stop to the plan when they learned of their daughter’s desire to marry a penniless sailor, Bellamy stormed off, vowing to make his fortune and then return to claim his lover.

Soon after Bellamy left, the legend continues, Hallett discovered she was pregnant, and later in the winter she was found in a barn holding a dead baby. As punishment, she was publicly whipped before being thrown in jail to await her trial for murder. While in prison she lost her mind and with the help of the Devil escaped. She then lived a hermit’s life, where she roamed the beaches, scared children, brewed up storms, and waited for her lover to return.

The love story of Bellamy and Hallett is far-fetched, but historians have verified that a Mary Hallett did live in Eastham in 1715. She was the daughter of a wealthy settler, and she died childless in 1751. Was she Samuel Bellamy’s lover? We do not know.

The Treasure Hunt

While the story of the two lovers may or may not be true, we do know that around this same time Bellamy met Paulsgrave Williams, a silversmith from an affluent and well-connected family. When the two young men learned that an armada of eleven Spanish ships transporting an enormous treasure had run into a hurricane off the coast of Florida–and that the precious cargo now littered the shallow shores just waiting for those with means to dive into the water and retrieve it–they recognized their opportunity to make their fortune. Williams secured a ship, and with Bellamy lending his seafaring expertise, the two headed south to join in the treasure hunt.

Bellamy and Williams spent a month down in Florida at the site of the wreck, but the most they could find were scattered coins and cargo. They needed to come up with a new plan. As they picked up and headed further south into the Caribbean, they decided that if they could not find treasure from ships lying on the ocean bottom, they would turn pirate and simply seize it from ships sitting above water.

The two aspiring pirates had no trouble finding sailors in the Caribbean who wanted to join them in their adventure. Eventually, they teamed up with Captain Benjamin Hornigold, the most successful pirate at the time. Hornigold was so impressed with Bellamy’s skills that he appointed him captain of one of his newly captured ships. Before long, they came across another pirate, Olivier La Buse, and the three teamed up to terrorize merchant ships carrying precious cargo back and forth between the New World and the Old.

After experiencing great success, the partnership eventually soured. Hornigold was unwilling to attack English vessels out of loyalty to his home country, whereas Bellamy and La Buse maintained that any ship of any nationality should be fair game. The disagreement was put up to a crew-wide vote–in deciding matters of policy on board pirate ships, democracy ruled–and two-thirds of the men sided with Bellamy and La Buse. Hornigold left humiliated with only 26 loyal men following him (including Edward Teach, who would later become known as “Blackbeard”). In time, Bellamy and his French partner also went their separate ways.

After Bellamy’s meteoric rise from being a poor sailor in Massachusetts to becoming a feared pirate captain, he was now in charge of 170 pirates, who had backgrounds as varied as English, Irish, Scottish, Welsh, Spanish, Dutch, Swedish, and African. Under his command, he had a medium-sized warship and a sloop-of-war, the Sultana and the Marianne, and with them he enjoyed great success in attacking merchant ships throughout the Caribbean. But his ascent had not yet reached its zenith, because he was about to increase his maritime arsenal substantially.

The Slave Ship

The Whydah was a newly built slave ship that could carry an enormous load of up to 700 slaves or the equivalent in cargo. It was also armed with 18 powerful cannons mounted on its sides with room for more. In February 1717, Captain Lawrence Prince was returning with it back to England after buying hundreds of slaves on the Slave Coast of the Gulf of Guinea, selling his human cargo in Jamaica, and then loading the ship back up with sugar, indigo, silver, and gold to take back to England.

Only a few days out on the final leg of his circular journey, Prince noticed that the Whydah had gained two shadows. Even though the two ships following him in the distance were flying the Union Jack, Prince was worried. He ordered his crew to put up more sails in an attempt to lose them.

The chase lasted three days until the Sultana and the Marianne finally pulled up alongside the Whydah. Despite all of his ship’s firepower, Prince got off only two shots at the attacking vessels. The threatening display of Bellamy and his crew waving cutlasses, muskets, and hand-made grenades was enough to scare Prince and his crew into submission. For the 30 to 50 Africans on board Bellamy’s ship–pirates who had willingly joined Bellamy after he raided in similar fashion the slave ships that were transporting them–the capture of this vessel must have been especially satisfying.

Now that the Whydah was in their possession, Bellamy’s crew transferred all of their valuable cargo and guns from the Sultana onto their new prize. They also removed any unwanted cargo from the Whydah and loaded it onto the Sultana. Bellamy gave his unwanted ship to Prince, along with an amount of gold worth a paltry 20 pounds, so that he and his crew could sail home.

Thomas Davis, a carpenter who had previously been forced to join the pirates, asked Bellamy if he could go with Prince, since the pirate captain had promised to release him at some point. But the pirate crew overruled Bellamy by voting to retain Davis on account of his valuable skills. Several of Prince’s men, in contrast, decided to stay with Bellamy rather than return home with their captain. Bellamy forced three other members of Prince’s crew to remain on his ship because they possessed special skills and were unmarried–Bellamy never forced a married man to join him.

Bellamy not only took possession of a state-of-the-art warship; the Whydah was also carrying a mind-blowing amount of treasure and gold valued between 20,000 and 30,000 pounds. The gold was counted out and divided into bags containing 50 pounds each in order to hand them out later as shares to the 180 men. The bags were kept unguarded in chests between decks, although no one was allowed to enter the hold without the Quarter Master present.

North

With the Whydah and the Marianne under his command, Bellamy now headed north, seizing and plundering dozens of ships along the way. At one point off the coast of the Carolinas, the pirates took a small sloop. The ship was too small to be of use to the pirates, so as Bellamy’s crew unloaded its cargo, they debated what to do with it. Bellamy and Williams were in favor of giving it back to its captain, but the crew voted otherwise.

Reluctantly, Bellamy called Captain Beer into his cabin to give him the bad news. “Damn my blood,” Bellamy said, “I am sorry they won’t let you have your sloop again, for I scorn to do anyone a mischief when it is not for my advantage. Damn the sloop, we must sink her and she might have been use to you.” With that, Bellamy’s crew set the ship on fire and rowed Beer over to the Marianne, so that Williams could eventually drop him off at Block Island.

Bellamy and Williams became separated before reaching Rhode Island. After dumping Captain Beer and his crew off, Williams hung around off the coast of Rhode Island and the mouth of Long Island Sound waiting for Bellamy to meet up with him. But Bellamy continued heading up toward Cape Cod. Local lore again says that Bellamy’s destination was Eastham, in order to show off his newfound wealth to the family of his sweetheart. Along the way, Bellamy captured the Mary Anne, which turned out to be carrying a large load of wine from Boston to New York. Bellamy put eight of his men in charge of the ship and looked forward to the wild drunk fest they would enjoy once they reached land.

Bellamy continued the journey with his new prize in tow, but dense fog began to roll in, and the two ships were soon separated as well. The pirates on board the Mary Anne made the most of the situation by breaking into the hold and starting to drink the wine. But the party was interrupted when they discovered that the ship was taking on water. As they assigned their captive crew the grueling task of manning the pumps, the sky blackened and the winds stiffened. It was not long before 30-foot waves started to batter the ship, and 70 mile per hour winds began to push it towards the coast of Cape Cod.

Despite the efforts of the crew to keep the ship away from shore, the bottom of the ship collided with the ocean floor. One of the pirates grabbed an ax and began chopping away at the masts to take them down and relieve the stress on the shattered hull. After two of the three masts fell, the pirates and the captive crew all huddled together in desperation to hear one of the literate men on the ship read from the Book of Common Prayer.

Daybreak

The pirates and sailors on the Mary Anne were relieved when daybreak arrived. The ship ran aground on a small island south of Eastham, and it being low tide they could actually jump down from the ship onto dry ground. The pirates picked up at the point where they were so rudely interrupted by continuing to drink down the wine that survived the storm.

Ten miles to the north, Bellamy and his crew were not nearly so lucky. The mighty Whydah turned out to be no match for the violent waters, which smashed the ship up against the shoreline. The ship’s canons came loose, the main mast came crashing down, and the hull broke apart and emptied its contents, including the men and the treasure, into the sea. In the end, only two of the pirates on board the Whydah made it safely to shore: John Julian, a Mosquito Indian, and Thomas Davis, the carpenter who requested to leave the pirates when the Whydah was captured. Everyone else, including Bellamy, perished.

At ten o’clock in the morning, two local men, John Cole and William Smith, spotted the wreck of the Mary Anne and rowed over to the island to help transport the crew back to the mainland. While the pirates argued in front of Cole and Smith over what they should do next, one of them blurted out that they were members of Sam Bellamy’s pirate crew. Realizing the error, the men gathered up their things and moved on.

Cole ran straight to the authorities, and the seven pirates were picked up in the Eastham Tavern and thrown in jail at Barnstable.

Treasure Grab

News of the shipwrecks continued to spread. Massachusetts Governor Samuel Shute tried to act quickly to prevent looting and recover as much of the pirate treasure for the Crown as he could. He issued a proclamation ordering people to turn over to the state any escaped pirates and any treasure, goods, or merchandise from the wreckage. He then sent Cyprian Southack, a cartographer and sea captain, to the site of the Whydah’s wreck to oversee the recovery.

Southack arrived at the scene only to discover 200 people already combing the beach and carting off whatever fragments of the wreckage they could find among the hundred plus battered corpses strewn across the beach. It being low tide, he could spot the anchor of the Whydah out in the water, but the rainy weather and rough seas prevented him from finding any of the supposed treasure that might have been buried in the sea.

Southack issued a public demand for the return of any items that people took from the wreck, but he only received what amounted to 200 pounds worth. The rest of the ship’s loot either made it into the hands of individuals or remained at the bottom of the ocean. Southack marked the location of the shipwreck on one of his maps and moved on. About two months later, two anchors, two great guns, and other items recovered from the wreckage of the Whydah were auctioned off at the Crown Coffeehouse in Boston.

Trial

Governor Shute ordered the seven pirates being held in Barnstable to be transferred to Boston, where they were put in the same prison where Captain Kidd was held back in 1699 (at what is now 26 Court Street). The two sole survivors of the Whydah were also picked up and placed in prison with the others. Julian’s stay there was not long. Due to his dark skin, he was sold off as a slave. In this case, his fate turned out to be a blessing, because the rest of his crewmates were about to face trial for piracy.

26 Court Street, Boston - Site of Boston Prison

The view of the Old State House from the site of Boston Prison

The eight remaining pirates were tried at what is now the Old State House near Faneuil Hall, right down the street from the Boston Prison. The seven pirates aboard the Mary Anne were tried together first. They were all found guilty and sentenced to death except for one, a carpenter named Thomas South, who convinced the court that the pirates forced him to join their crew. Thomas Davis from the Whydah was tried separately and was also found not guilty for the same reason. When the two men each heard the verdict in their favor, they dropped to their knees and thanked the Court.

The famous New England minister, Cotton Mather, visited the six remaining pirates in prison, and on November 15, 1717, he accompanied them to the Charles River ferry landing, where a large crowd gathered to witness their execution. According to Mather, the pirates showed consternation and penitence for their actions as they stood on the scaffold. One of the pirates made a short speech, “which every body trembled at,” warning the sailors in the crowd not to repeat his wicked living and to avoid if at all possible falling into the hands of pirates. Mather noted, to his chagrin, that his speech was riddled with salty language.

Mather later published the conversations he had with the pirates about salvation and other religious matters, although the dialogue he supposedly reproduces show the pirates to be more devout than can be believed. He also included the sermon he delivered on the occasion of their execution entitled, “Warnings to Them That Make Haste To Be Rich.”

Epilogue

Paulsgrave Williams, who rode out the storm in safety near Rhode Island, eventually learned of Bellamy’s fate. He reluctantly turned around and headed south to Nassau to spread the news about what had happened to other pirates. He continued to capture and loot ships along the way.

When word reached Blackbeard that Massachusetts had hanged six members of Bellamy’s crew, he was furious. In revenge, he burned one of the ships he captured “because she belonged to Boston alledging the People of Boston had hanged some of the pirates.” He then vowed to disrupt and destroy as much British shipping as he could.

Bellamy’s ship remained underwater and undiscovered until 1984, when undersea explorer Barry Clifford found the wreckage by using Southack’s map to help him find it. To date, the Whydah remains the only positively-identified pirate shipwreck ever to be discovered. Over 200,000 pieces have been found over the course of the Whydah recovery project, including the ship’s bell, which has an inscription that confirmed the ship’s identity. The value of the recovered treasure, though, resides more in the information it has given to us about pirates and their lives than in actual monetary riches.

Sources