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Brunswick County- A View from the Bridge

The Pelican Post
Oak Island Press

The Petticoat Pirate


by Capt’n Jack

   Someone once said that the only heroines at sea are the ships.  Well, not by my reckoning, for the history of seafaring is full of stories of women at sea both heroines and rogues.  Certainly it is true that sailors from the beginning of time have mostly been men and that strong traditions have developed which have discouraged women from working on ships at sea.  Some of these traditions turned into superstitions and others into laws.
   But the pirates were different.  They had scant respect for superstition and none at all for the law.  Women were free to serve on pirate ships if that suited the rest of the crew, whatever their reasons might be, and many women did.
   Often, the pirate captain brought his wife, or sometimes wives, aboard to live with him and keep him company.  Some ships allowed the crew, as well, to bring wives and sweethearts along and other ships allowed tavern girls aboard to entertain the men on long voyages.  But the women we are interested in are the woman that served aboard the ships and did the same jobs as men.  They climbed the rigging, served the mess, fired the guns, swabbed the decks and fought the enemy.  These were the real petticoat pirates even though you would be hard pressed to ever see one of them in any kind of frilly things.
   We don’t remember any of the names of these common seawomen, except perhaps Ruth who served aboard the fictional pirate ship in the lighthearted operetta The Pirates of Penzance. But we do know the names of some of the women who were captains of their own ships and commanded their own crews. Anne Bonney, Mary Reade and Fanny Campbell were names that struck terror in hearts of 16th century mariners along with Blackbeard and Stede Bonnet. In the 19th century, Madam Chang was the scourge of the China seas and as late as the 1920’s, Lai Choi San ruled the approaches to Hong Kong. There were many others like the Danish vixen, Alvilda or the French noble woman, Jeanne de Belleville or the English girl, Pretty Peg, who wasn’t, or Charlotte de Berry who was reputed to be beautiful and deadly.  All lovely ladies I’m sure.
   Certainly, the most famous of the lady pirates in western culture was our very own Anne Bonney.  Born in about 1701, she was the daughter of William Cormac, a fairly prosperous North Carolina planter and lawyer.  Anne, it seems, was a restless girl with a violent temper; traits which caused her considerable trouble most of her life.  By the time she was fifteen, her hot blood and lust had pretty much alienated her from family and community.  Anne yearned for adventure and faraway places so when a young sailor named James Bonney came along, she took up with him to the final disgust of her father.  She married Bonney, or at least took his name, and the couple signed on a merchantman out of Bath on the Pamlico and sailed to the Bahamas.
   By virtually all accounts, Anne was as beautiful as she was tough.  She found it easy on one hand to seduce men with her feminine charms and wild beauty and on the other hand to whip them in a fight.  Once in New Providence, she quickly rid herself of Bonney and took to the waterfront bars where she courted the pirates. Eventually, she took up with Calico Jack Rackham with whom she fulfilled a lifelong dream.  Anne Bonney, as she was always known, went “a-pyratin”.
   Her ship, The Vanity, was reputed to be the fastest sloop in the islands and was acquired in typical pirate fashion.  Anne decided that she would have The Vanity, so she befriended the owner, one John Hamen, and she spent her nights in his cabin.  Once she knew the routine of the watch it was simple to have her buddy Calico Jack and a crew of scum slip aboard and take over the ship.  Now with ship and crew, she and Calico Jack went about the business of being pirates for the next several years.
   Aboard ship Anne regularly wore trousers and shirts with a cutlass at her side and two pistols in her belt. Ashore, she usually put on dresses and makeup to tantalize the sailors in the bars she frequented.  Anne and Calico Jack were partners in The Vanity and sometimes lovers.  In about 1718, she bore him a son in Cuba.  Strangely, Calico Jack never seemed to be jealous of her trysts and bar room antics with other men.  Not until a tall rugged sailor named James Morris signed aboard The Vanity. Anne and Morris beame instant friends and soon were inseparable. Calico Jack was evicted from the Captain’s cabin and sailor Morris installed.
   But James Morris wasn’t quite the man he seemed to be.  He was, in fact, Mary Reade.  Now Mary was definitely one tough cookie as she had served in the army, the calvalry and in the navy for more than twenty years masquerading as a man.  My kind of girl?  Probably not!  But, she certainly was Anne Bonney’s kind of girl for the two women became lifelong companions and soul mates. They even took to dressing in identical costumes.  Where Anne was loud, boastful and temperamental, Mary was quiet, introspective and possessed a certain dignity.  Even though Anne was clearly the captain of The Vanity, Mary greatly influenced her in virtually every decision.  At their first meeting, Mary was about thirty-five while Anne was mearly eighteen. It was a profitable, comfortable and satisying relationship for the two women.
   But all good things come to an end and by late 1720, The Vanity had been captured by Captain Jonathan Barnet sailing in the man-of-war HMS Albion.  Even though much of the world knew better, Calico Jack Rackham was charged with being the pirate captain of The Vanity and was hanged very shortly after they reached Jamaica.
   On November 20, 1720, Mary Reade and Anne Bonney went on trial for piracy on the high seas and were almost certain to have a date with the hangman.  But in a surprise move, they were both spared from the gallows on a technicality.  It seems under English law you can’t hang a pregnant woman.  Somehow during their imprisonment awaiting trial, they managed to get themselves in just that condition.  They were sentenced to prison terms which were suspended through the influence of Anne Bonney’s father from North Carolina.
   Like any good story, there are several possible endings so I will choose the one that I like best.  After many months of waiting in Jamaica to clear up the final legalities during which time their babies were born, the two women moved to the island of St. Kitts where they raised their children and led productive, law abiding lives. We know for sure that today thousands of people scattered across the Caribbean can trace their roots directly to Anne Bonney and her two sons.
   So what happened to the petticoat pirates? Certainly, there aren’t still gals around who would rob, cheat and leave a poor guy for dead?  Not, at least, anybody that I know.