4 THE PIRATES OF NEW ORLEANS

On November 24, 1813, most citizens of New Orleans were chuckling over a new proclamation, bearing the signature of Gov. W. C. C. Claiborne, which had been posted on bulletin boards throughout the city. They were not so much amused because the Governor had accused a pirate of attacking a U.S. Customs officer (although this was amusing enough to many), but because Claiborne actually expected someone to take seriously his offer of a $500 reward for the capture of the pirate Jean Laffite.

Invade the pirate hideout in the swamps and capture Jean Laffite—or even his brother Pierre—for a mere $500? And Claiborne was naive if he thought that most of Louisiana’s politicians and merchants had any desire to halt the smuggling of pirated merchandise while a war was being fought against Great Britain. Any kind of merchandise was hard to obtain.

Two days after the posting of the proclamation, a wave of raucous laughter sounded in the coffee houses, taverns and drawing rooms of New Orleans. The laughter exploded over a proclamation posted throughout the city which was a parody of the Claiborne document. It offered a reward of $1,500 for the arrest of Governor Claiborne and his delivery to the pirate hideout at Grande Terre in the bayou country south of New Orleans. The proclamation was signed by Jean Laffite.

Laffite’s arrogance was no laughing matter to government officials in Louisiana and Washington. Not only were the pirates openly defying Federal and state authority, but a legitimate merchant had little chance to compete against those who purchased their goods at the pirates’ auctions. The auctions were held regularly on islands in the swamps near New Orleans. Hundreds of thousands of dollars’ worth of merchandise—captured on the high seas—could be bought cheaply and with no payment of Customs duties.

The enemies of the Laffites and their cutthroat crew were in the minority. Everyone knew—including Claiborne—that a majority of the people were sympathetic to the Laffites. The general view was that the pirates actually were performing a patriotic service when they attacked ships of the enemy countries, England and Spain, and then made their booty available to Louisiana citizens at ridiculously reduced prices.

Before Claiborne issued his proclamation, the general attitude of the citizenry was fairly summed up in a letter received by the Louisiana Gazette and signed “The Agent of the Freebooters.” There had been a complaint against piracy and smuggling in the newspaper, and the freebooter (perhaps it was Jean Laffite) wrote a reply saying:

Gentlemen:

Your paper of Wednesday contained a letter written by some idiot ... (who) makes a great outcry against a few honest fellows of us, who are using extraordinary exertions to punish the common enemy, the British and their allies, the Spaniards.... Does he wish to discourage our profession and put an end to trade altogether?...

Cannot the booby perceive that without us there would not be a bale of goods at market; and does he not see, by the open manner in which our business is done, that the government of the United States has no objection either to the fitting out of our prizes and the sale of their cargoes, without troubling ourselves about the payment of duties; which I assure you we would find extremely inconvenient when we sell so low for real cash in these hard times....

The legislature paid little attention to Governor Claiborne’s appeals for help in suppressing piracy and smuggling because too many of its members were profiting from the operations of the smugglers or were close friends of Jean and Pierre Laffite.

Honest merchants, competing at great disadvantage against those who bought their goods from the pirates’ stores, were the first to raise a clamor for Claiborne to do something to halt the smuggling. As a result of these demands, Customs Officer Walker Gilbert invaded the pirate country with a company of armed men. As they moved through the marshes south of New Orleans, they encountered Laffite convoying a shipload of contraband goods toward New Orleans. Gilbert and his men attacked the pirates and there was a brief, savage skirmish. Laffite and his group fled from the ship, leaving Gilbert in possession. But before Gilbert could reorganize his forces the pirates counterattacked. One of Gilbert’s men was badly wounded. The Federal officers were driven off. The pirates took over the ship and resumed their journey to New Orleans to sell their booty. It was this episode which caused Claiborne to issue his proclamation that stirred so much amusement.

Piracy and smuggling, after the turn of the century, had become profitable for two prime reasons. The first of these was the worsening relations between the United States and Great Britain, which brought about the embargo on shipping in 1807 and later the War of 1812. Any kind of merchandise was hard to come by and could be sold for a handsome profit. The second reason was the U.S. government’s efforts to outlaw the traffic in slaves.

With the passage of the embargo on slave trade in 1808, the price of Negro slaves in the United States skyrocketed. Slaves could be bought in Cuba for about $300 each and sold for three or four times that amount on the illegal markets in the United States. But then the pirates found it more profitable simply to bypass Cuba and waylay the slave ships at sea. They found a ready market for the slaves in the lower Mississippi Valley, where huge cotton and sugar plantations were being developed and where plantation owners were willing to bid against each other for this cheap labor.

The pirates found Barataria Bay near New Orleans an ideal place from which to operate. In this maze of canals, marshes, bayous and meandering waterways at the mouth of the Mississippi were many hiding places. In addition, the location furnished easy access to the markets of New Orleans.

The Baratarians had a loose organization headed by an Italian named Gamby. The outlaws were forever quarrelling among themselves and Gamby was not strong enough to control them, an internal weakness which was more serious for the pirates than the opposition of Governor Claiborne.

At this time (1810) Jean and Pierre Laffite were living in New Orleans with their younger brother, Antoine, whose name was never to figure in any of their piratical exploits of later years. The elder brothers, all reports agree, were striking-looking men with great personal charm and wit.

Pierre was of medium height, well-built, and handsome, although an illness had affected the muscles in the left side of his face and one of his eyes was slightly crossed. Jean stood 6 feet 2 inches tall, had blue eyes, and black hair. Like his brother, he was shrewd and fearless.

The brothers operated a blacksmith shop in the very heart of the city on St. Philips Street, not far from Bourbon Street. Even on the sultriest, hottest days of summer they kept the bellows blowing on the red-hot coals of the smithy fire. The anvil rang with the blows of their hammers beating lengths of iron into light, strong chains—chains to which slaves would be manacled before being brought to the auctions in the city.

Almost always there were groups of Baratarians lounging in the smithy, rough men with cutlasses at their waists and pistols stuck into their belts. They advised the Laffites on how they wished the chains to be made. And they also talked of their raids on English and Spanish ships, the booty they had brought to their hiding places in the swamps, and the wild parties they had after seizing a ship’s stores of rum, wines and liquors.

For years, the Laffites acted as the “fences” for the pirates, handling slaves as well as other merchandise. It can only be assumed they listened to the tales of adventure, excitement and stolen riches—and became envious of the wealth acquired with such ease by men who were not as intelligent as they. At any rate, Jean Laffite left the smithy regularly to make trips to the pirates’ hideout at Barataria, where he studied their operation.

After a time, Jean won the confidence of the ruffians to such a degree that he was invited to become their leader—despite the mumbling of Gamby. But this gentleman proved to be no problem whatever. He abdicated without a fight after he saw Laffite coldly shoot down one man who questioned his authority.

Laffite had exceptional executive abilities, along with a bold courage. Under his command the pirates of Barataria reached new heights in prosperity and arrogance. Men flocked from New Orleans to his pirate hideout to enlist their services. The stores of stolen goods sometimes were worth hundreds of thousands of dollars. Regular auctions were held on islands near New Orleans.

While he brought piracy to a new height in the Gulf, Laffite perhaps organized it too well. He made it so efficient that some historians believe he was responsible for its downfall sooner than otherwise might have been. This may well be true, because the pirates achieved such great power under Laffite that the government of the United States could not forever condone their brazen disregard of revenue laws, the slave trade embargo, and the authority of government.

At one period, Laffite had from 800 to 1,000 men under his command—an outlaw army which was equipped with the best artillery and huge stores of powder and ammunition. His artillerymen had no peers in any army in the world. His storehouses were filled with stolen merchandise. On one day 400 Negroes were sold during an auction—which meant a gross business of approximately $500,000 in slaves alone.

Laffite had his choice of the best wines of the Old World. He dined on silverplate. In New Orleans, he and Pierre were seen on the streets, in the coffee houses, and in the taverns in the company of many of the city’s leading businessmen, merchants and lawyers.

Jean Laffite did not like the name of pirate. He called himself a privateer. But in the New Orleans of that day his occupation did not bar him from the society of the leading citizens of the city.

In the summer of 1812, Capt. Andrew Hunter Holmes was sworn in as a Customs officer and led an expedition against Laffite and his men. Captain Holmes took a group of thirty or forty men in small boats and proceeded toward Barataria. But Jean Laffite was forewarned of the expedition by his brother Pierre. According to the records of the times Jean Laffite laughed uproariously when he learned that Holmes was heading for Barataria with such a small company. Laffite took his boats loaded with merchandise through devious waterways and avoided Holmes and his men rather than get involved in a skirmish which could end only in disaster for Holmes.

But Holmes was not to be outwitted so easily. In the fall, Holmes returned with a larger force, surprised Jean and Pierre Laffite with contraband merchandise and took them to New Orleans as prisoners. The brothers were released on bail and neither showed up for trial. Six writs of arrest were issued for Jean and Pierre but all were returned with the notation “Not found in New Orleans.” It seemed reasonable to assume that no one seriously wanted to find them.

The acceptance of piracy and smuggling as elements of legitimate trade in New Orleans was not so astonishing as it might seem because Louisiana commerce for many years prior to this time had been built on such a foundation. Smuggling to avoid tariffs and then selling at cheap prices, as one historian said, “had become a part of the habits of life there.” The people were satisfied for the most part because the smuggled goods were cheaper than they would have been had duties been paid. Merchants were satisfied because they were able to obtain scarce merchandise and make a good profit. Men such as Laffite were regarded as performing a necessary function for the community at no little personal risk—and only a minority attached any moral stigma to the trade.

The confidential and intimate relationship between the pirates and their customers reached its peak on New Year’s Day, 1814. Handbills were boldly scattered in public places and prominently displayed throughout New Orleans announcing that the brothers Laffite, on January 20, would offer at auction at “The Temple” a quantity of slaves and merchandise.

The Temple was a favorite market place for the Laffites. It was an ancient Indian mound of white shells where, legend had it, Indians of the area had gathered to give human sacrifices to appease their gods. The pirates had built a platform at the edge of the water, onto which they could unload their boats. There they spread their merchandise for all to see who came from New Orleans. Since it was easily accessible, there was never any lack of buyers when the auctioneer went to work.

Claiborne was infuriated by the distribution of handbills announcing the auction. The pirates were offering for sale 415 slaves in addition to a supply of “fine foreign merchandise.” Claiborne called in the U.S. Collector of Customs to discuss what could be done about this outrageous disregard of the laws of the United States. Both must have known that there was not much that could be done. Nevertheless the Collector ordered a small force to proceed to The Temple to “defeat the purpose of the law infractors.”

Jean Laffite and his companions attacked the Customs men, killing one man and wounding two others fatally. Nine of the officers were held as prisoners by the pirates while they proceeded with their auction as planned. It was reported that buyers came from many parts of Louisiana. They bought all the slaves that were put on the block. And the Laffites considered the auction a great success.

The Collector wrote to Governor Claiborne: “It is high time that the contrabandists, dispersed throughout the State, should be taught to respect our laws, and I hold it my duty to call on your excellency for a force adequate to the exigency of the case.”

Claiborne could have dispatched a state militia against the pirate gang, but he hesitated to do this because he already had had one embarrassing experience with the militia. He had ordered a company of troops to move against the Baratarians, but Jean Laffite had met this problem by the simple expedient of bribing the entire expeditionary force. It has been recorded that “the brave leaders of the Baratarians had spared their lives, loaded them with costly presents and had allowed them to return safely to New Orleans.”

Again Claiborne pleaded in a letter to the legislature for action, saying: “The evil requires a strong corrective. Force must be resorted to. These lawless men can alone be operated upon by their fears and the certainty of punishment. I have not been able to ascertain their numbers ... but they are represented to be from 300 to 500, perhaps more.... So numerous and bold are the followers of Laffite, and, I grieve to say it, such is the countenance afforded him by some of our citizens, to me unknown, that all efforts to apprehend this high offender have hitherto been baffled.” As is the history of many complaints to legislatures, the matter was referred to a committee, where it died quietly.

Failing again to get any action from the legislature, Claiborne resorted to another course. He arranged to have a grand jury, friendly to his views, chosen from the city’s merchants and bankers. Witnesses were called who, in the strictest secrecy, swore to knowledge of piratical acts by the Laffites and their men. Before the news of this grand jury’s meeting spread through the city, Pierre Laffite was arrested. He was taken to jail and bail was denied. Jean Laffite, when he heard of Pierre’s arrest, hurried secretly to the city to talk with friends about releasing his brother. But this time nothing could be done.

It was while Pierre was in jail, on September 3, 1814, that His Britannic Majesty’s brig Sophie sailed into the narrow strait off the island of Grande Terre and dropped anchor. A small boat was lowered and two officers were rowed ashore by sailors. The British were met on the beach by a tall, dark-haired man whom they asked to lead them to Monsieur Laffite. Their guide led them across the beach onto the porch of a breeze-swept house. And then the guide turned and said, “Messieurs, I myself am Laffite.” The visitors were Captain Lockyer from the Sophie and Captain McWilliams of the Royal Colonial Marines. They had brought a most unusual offer.

Laffite refused to discuss business until lunch had been served. They ate their lunch from silverplate. It was an excellent meal, the officers recalled, with fine wines and good conversation. When the meal was finished, the men lit cigars and then Laffite was ready to hear what they had to say. Captain Lockyer disclosed that he brought an offer from Admiral Sir William H. Percy, commanding the British squadron at Pensacola. In brief, the British were offering Laffite $30,000 if he would bring his ships, guns and men to the side of Britain in the war against the United States. Laffite asked them to leave the Admiral’s letters with him and to give him fifteen days in which to study the proposition. Then, he said, “I will be entirely at your disposal.”

But Jean Laffite, pirate and cutthroat though he was, had no intention of betraying the United States. He hastily wrote a letter to his friend Jean Blanque, in New Orleans. He enclosed the letters handed to him by the British, together with a personal message for Governor Claiborne. Laffite said in his letter to Blanque: “Our enemies exerted on my integrity a motive which few men would have resisted. They have represented to me a brother in irons, a brother who to me is very dear! of whom I can become the deliverer ... from your enlightenment will you aid me in a circumstance so grave.”

And then he enclosed this letter to be delivered to the Governor:

MonSieur:

... I offer to return to this State many citizens who perhaps have lost to your eyes that sacred title. I offer ... their efforts for the defense of the country.

This point of Louisiana that occupies great importance in the present situation, I offer myself to defend it ... I am the lost sheep who desires to return to the flock ... for you to see through my faults such as they are....

In case, MonSieur Le Gouverneur, your reply should not be favorable in my ardent wishes I declare to you that I leave immediately so not to be held to have cooperated with an invasion.... This cannot fail to take place, and puts me entirely on the judgment of my conscience.

I have the honor to be, MonSieur Le Gouverneur,

Laffite.

Jean Laffite had put loyalty to the United States before profit in this time of peril. But even as Captain Lockyer conferred with Laffite, Claiborne was going forward with plans for a land-sea operation against the pirate stronghold.

After receiving Laffite’s letter, Claiborne called his military advisers into conference. These were Major General Jaques Villere, Commodore Patterson of the U.S. Navy, and Colonel Ross of the regular U.S. Army. The questions they discussed were whether the documents sent by Laffite were genuine and whether the governor should enter into correspondence with Laffite. Villere thought the documents genuine and that the Governor should reply immediately to the Laffite letter. However, Ross and Patterson voted against Villere. The majority favored an attack on the pirate stronghold.

Peculiarly enough, the morning after this meeting at the Governor’s mansion, newspapers carried notices that Pierre Laffite had mysteriously escaped from jail. A notice was posted offering $1,000 reward for his capture.

Eight days after Laffite wrote to Claiborne, the Ross-Patterson expedition set out for Barataria. Three barges were loaded with men and ammunition. It left the levee at New Orleans before dawn and drifted silently downstream with the current. Near the mouth of the river, the barges joined forces with Colonel Ross’ fleet of six gunboats and the schooner Carolina. The pirate hideout on the islands of Grande Terre and Grande Isle was sighted on the early morning of September 16.

There were indications at first that the Baratarians were going to resist. They began placing cannon into position and arming themselves. But then apparently they saw the American flag on the approaching ships. They broke ranks and ran. Without firing a shot, the expeditionary force captured the pirate fleet, guns, and stores of merchandise valued at more than $500,000.

When news of the attack on Barataria was received in New Orleans, there was much criticism of the expedition. And there was even more indignation when it was learned that the expedition was launched after Laffite had offered his services and those of his companions to the government in the defense of New Orleans against the expected attack by the British.

The British bribe offer to Laffite came as General Andrew Jackson arrived in New Orleans to arrange for the defense of the city. Claiborne sent copies of Laffite’s documents to Jackson on the chance that they were genuine and contained military information which would be important. Jackson made it quite clear he wanted no traffic with “this hellish banditti” and he rebuked Claiborne for having permitted Laffite and his men in the past to visit the city.

At last Jean Laffite made a secret trip to see Jackson himself. There is no record of what went on between the two men and what was said in that conference. It became known that Laffite offered to put in Jackson’s hands a supply of 750,000 pistol flints and some of the most skilled artillerymen in the world, including Laffite’s lieutenants, Dominique You and Beluche.

Jackson relented and accepted Laffite’s offer of help. The General made You and Beluche captains and they were given command of batteries on the right side of the American line.

On January 8, 1815, the decisive battle of New Orleans was fought. As dawn was breaking, Jackson visited the troops along the front lines and stopped at a battery where the Baratarians were making coffee in an old iron pot.

“That smells good,” Jackson said. “It’s better coffee than we get. Where did it come from? Did you smuggle it in?”

Dominique You grinned. “That may be,” he said, and he ordered a cup filled for the General. As Jackson sat on his horse sipping the strong, black coffee, he remarked to an aide, “I wish I had fifty such guns on this line, with five hundred devils such as those fellows behind them.”

The British advanced on the American positions to be mowed down by withering fire. At the height of the battle, Jackson again visited Dominique You’s battery to see how things were going.

“Ah, we do not make much damage,” You said.

“Why is that?” Jackson demanded.

“The powder!” You replied. “It is not good. The cannon balls, they fall short.”

Jackson said, “I’ll remedy that!” He ordered an aide to see to it that the Baratarians received the best ammunition possible. The General was heard to say later, “Were I ordered to storm the very gates of hell with Dominique You as my lieutenant, I would have no misgivings as to the outcome.”

Jean and Pierre Laffite acquitted themselves with honor in the battle for New Orleans. They and their men were given Presidential pardons, clearing the slate of past crimes, and for some time after the city was saved, they were great heroes. They were wined, dined, and cheered wherever they went.

Perhaps the brothers became bored with respectability. At any rate they drifted back into piracy. They pulled out of their old haunts and moved to Galveston to set up operations, and for several years they carried on business in the slave trade. In 1820, Jean Laffite boarded his favorite boat, The Pride, and sailed away into legend. There were stories that he died in Yucatan. Some claimed that he carried on his piracy in the Mediterranean. Still others said that he settled in France and lived to be an old man. All recorded history of Jean Laffite ended when he sailed from Galveston. Pierre Laffite was said to have lived in Louisiana to an old age and to have died a poor man.

The quality and the quantity of piracy subsided along with the fortunes of the brothers Laffite. But not smuggling. Smuggling was to continue to plague the Customs Service, and some of the smuggling would make the Laffites look like amateurs.