On 26 August 1834, HMS Savage
docked in Salem,
Massachusetts.1
The captain, Lieutenant
Loney, disembarked his prisoners – men captured in
Africa and transported to the United States to stand trial –
and they were taken to the town hall, where a district judge
arraigned them on a charge of piracy. Thereafter, they were
imprisoned in the jail on Leverett Street in Boston to await
trial. A reporter for the Boston Post wrote
that he “took a bird’s eye glance at the monsters of the
deep but [was] somewhat surprised to find them small and
ordinary looking men, extremely civil and good natured, with
a free dash of humor in their conversation and easy
indifference to their situation.” (Snow, 111)
Their tale began two years
earlier when the Mexican, an
American brig captained by John Groves Butman, set sail from
Salem on her way to Rio de Janeiro, Brazil. Her crew
consisted of Benjamin Brown Reed (mate), John Rogers
Nichols, Giacomo “Jack” Ardissone, Israel Luscomb, Frederic
Trask, Theodore Siesbuttel, Benjamin Larcom, John Battis
(captain’s boy), Thomas Fuller, Thomas Charles Henry Ridgly
(cook), John Lewis (steward), and Benjamin Daniels.
Before she departed, her owner,
a prominent merchant named Joseph Peabody, stowed ten boxes
containing $20,000 in coins aboard the Mexican.
“The boxes were marked P. – The brig sailed the 28th of
August, 1832. She arrived back in 42 days, being robbed of
the specie.” (Trial, 6)
When the Mexican
reached 33 degrees north and 34 degrees, 30 minutes west,
she “fell in with a
suspicious looking vessel from which she made many efforts .
. . to escape.” (Report, 7)
Captain Butman testified that she was sighted “about four in
the morning” and “looked like a Baltimore clipper – had a
low, long, straight hull . . . About ten minutes after we
tacked, he set his square-sail, and came directly down upon
us – when within gun-shot he fired a gun . . . .”
(Report, 9)
The “one long and two small
guns” and “her decks . . . crowded with men” convinced
Captain Butman to heave to because the Mexican
had “two kegs of powder alongside our two short
carronades, the only guns we had. Our means of defense,
however, proved utterly worthless as the shot was a number
of sizes too large for the guns.” (Report, 7-8; Battis, 69)
The schooner Panda
had sailed from Havana, Cuba on 21 August 1832, bound
for Africa to load a cargo of slaves.
Her captain was Pedro
Gibert, thirty-eight years old and the “son of a
grandee . . . and exceeding[ly] handsome, having a round
face, pearly teeth, round forehead, and full black eyes,
with beautiful raven hair, and a great favorite with the
ladies. He united great energy, coolness and decision, with
superior knowledge in mercantile transactions, and the
Guinea trade . . . .” (Ellms,
80)2
|
Example of a
Baltimore schooner |
His first mate, Bernardo de
Soto, was ten years his junior. “[F]rom the time [Bernardo]
was fourteen [he] had cultivated the art of navigation, and
at the age of twenty-two had obtained the degree of captain
in the India service. . . . He was married to Donna Petrona
Pereyra, daughter of . . . a merchant of Corunna. She was at
this time fifteen, and ripening into that slight fullness of
form, and roundness of limb, which in that climate mark the
early passing from girl into woman. Her complexion was the
dark olive tinge of Spain; her eyes jet black, large and
lustrous. She had great sweetness of disposition and
ingenuousness.” (Ellms, 80-1)
Although the Panda
had a crew of thirty, those who were eventually taken
into custody for the alleged piracy, aside from her
officers, were:
Angel
Garcia
(seaman)
Antonio Ferrer (cook)
Domingo de Guzman (ordinary
seaman)
Francisco Ruiz (carpenter)
Jose Velazquez (seaman)
Juan Antonio Portana
(ordinary seaman)
Juan Montenegro (ordinary
seaman)
Manuel Boyga (seaman)
Manuel Castillo (ordinary
seaman)
Nicola Costa (cabin boy)
While Ferrer “was a young
Guinea negro, with a pleasant countenance, and good humored,
with a sleek glossy skin, and tatooed on the face . . .”,
Ruiz “was of the middle size, but muscular, with a short
neck. His hair was black and abundant, and projected from
his forehead, so that he appeared to look out from under it,
like a bonnet. His eyes were dark chestnut, but always
restless; his features were well defined; his eye-lashes,
jet black. He was familiar with all the out-of-the-way
places of . . . Havana, and entered into any of the dark
abodes without ceremony. From report his had been a wild and
lawless career.” (Ellms, 81)
The pirates boarded the Mexican in search of valuables and didn’t
refrain from hurting their victims. “[T]wo of them drew
their knives and stabbed them at [Captain Butman’s] throat,
exclaiming, Money, Money, in broken
English. I was now very much alarmed, and called the mate
and crew to come down and get the money out from the run
under the cabin floor. They beat my crew with their knives
to make them work quick. After the money was got up they
insisted I had more, and pulled over the chests, boxes, and
berths, and told me if they found any they would cut my
throat . . . .” (Trial, 7)
Benjamin Read testified, “I
heard the boatswain asking the captain for his chronometer.
Captain said he had none. Boatswain then caught up the
speaking-trumpet, and gave the captain such a blow as broke
it almost to pieces.” (Report, 11)
When John Lewis failed to show
Ruiz where the money was hidden, Ruiz “beat him on the half
deck with an oak batten”. (Report, 15) “He
broke the baton in three pieces in striking me.” (Trial, 11)
Plundering
the Mexican wasn’t sufficient. The pirates
wanted no witnesses to their crime. Jack Ardissone,
conversant in Spanish, overheard the pirate captain’s words
to his men: “Dead
cats don’t mew. You know what to do.” (Botting, 187)
They confined “the crew below,
breaking the compasses, and destroying the rigging and
tackle.” (Report, 8) Then they stuffed “a
tub of rope yarns . . . and other combustibles” into the
caboose and set it on fire. They expected the flames to
reach the “mainsail and set the masts on fire”. (Trial,
8)
The pirates were seen leaving
the brig about three o’clock that afternoon by Captain
Butman, who was standing on the cabin table looking out
through a small skylight which the pirates had forgotten
to lock. As the smoke gathered and spread . . . Captain
Butman knelt in prayer for several moments, after which
he told the crew to . . . get water buckets to put out
the fire. Drawing himself out of the cabin through the
skylight, Captain Butman took one of the buckets filled
with water . . . and crept along the rail toward the
galley, or caboose, as it was called. Making sure to
escape observation from the schooner, as it was still
standing by, Captain Butman reached the galley and
doused the fire, which was just breaking through the
galley roof. He did not extinguish the blaze entirely,
however, as the pirates, who had started to sail away,
would get suspicious and return.” (Snow, 109)
After Butman released his crew,
they repaired the Mexican as best they
could. “[T]he brig was then put before the wind, steering
north, and as by the intervention of Divine Providence, a
strong wind came up, which before dark developed into a
heavy squall with thunder and lightning, so we let the brig
go before the wind, not taking in a stitch of canvas. . . .”
(Battis, 75) They finally reached Salem on 12 October.
Although an American cruiser pursued the pirates, “the chase
was abandoned as hopeless, no clue being found to their
‘whereabouts.’” (Ellms, 84)
The Panda
eventually reached Africa, where the crew conducted business
and recuperated from illness. In June 1834, Captain
Trotter, of HM Brig Curlew,
recognized the schooner alleged to have robbed the Mexican.3
Midshipman George H. Quentin, who accompanied the prisoners
to America, described what the British subsequently did.
Soon as they saw us, they all
took to their boats, and made for the shore, excepting
one man, and he soon after left in a canoe. Capt.
Trotter chased them with his own boat only, but could
not come up with them, and therefore returned to the
schooner, which we found on fire. I was the first that
boarded her. The first thing we did was to put out the
fire, which we found in the magazine below the cabin
floor. Saw nothing but smoke coming out of the cabin.
One of our men went down and found a quantity of cotton
and brimstone burning, also a slow match ignited and
communicating with the magazine. The magazine contained
fourteen or sixteen quarter-casks of powder. The next
thing we did was to look for the ship’s papers and
log-book. Did not find them. (Report, 27)
Ruiz, the last man to depart
the Panda , had set the fire, a frequent
pirate tactic to prevent others from getting hold of the
vessel and using it against the pirates. Aside from seizing
the schooner, the British also confiscated “new rum, about
30 bales of cloth, 250 muskets, 250 barrels of powder, 1
barrel of knives, 1 box necklaces, box of cutlasses, box of
flints, 2 boxes of axes . . . .” (Report, 19)
Also captured were “a U. S. ensign and pennant . . . two
Spanish and one French ensign – there was another, but I do
not remember of what nation.”4
(Report, 30) Quentin also
testified that “she had a great quantity of round shot on
board, besides canister and chain shot – there was also
double-headed shot, and grape, I never saw chain shot or
grape shot on board of a trader on the coast of Africa
before.” (Trial, 30)
During an attempt to force the
African king to turn over the pirates he sheltered, the Panda exploded, possibly because “a spark of
fire got into the magazine.” (Report, 27)
[T]he officers killed on board
. . . were named Perey and Johnson – the gunner, a
marine and a mulatto boy, were also killed – there were
perhaps twenty-five persons on board . . . when she blew up . . . (Report, 30)
The Panda’s
crew was finally rounded up at several different locations
and taken to England. A few were released because they
joined the schooner after she arrived in Africa. When Lt.
Loney and the Savage arrived in Salem on
almost two years to the day when the Mexican
and Panda had set sail, he turned over his
passengers to the authorities.
The pirates were landed at Crowningshield
wharf, and taken from thence in carriages to the
Town hall; twelve of them, handcuffed in pairs, took
their places at the bar. They were all young and
middle-aged, the older was not over forty.
Physiognomically, they were not uncommonly ill looking,
in general, although there were exceptions, and they
were all clean and wholesome in their appearance. (Ellms, 88)
On 11 November 1834, Supreme
Court judge Joseph Story and District Court judge John
Davis presided over The United States v. Pedro
Gibert et al. With the exception of one crewman, who
turned state’s evidence, the Spanish defendants pleaded not
guilty to the charge. The prosecuting attorney was Andrew
Dunlap, while David Lee Childs and George
S. Hillard defended the prisoners. Childs believed in
his clients’ innocence and that they were “victims of one of
the vilest plots that had ever been invented.” (Report,
21)
Since the pirates lacked a good
command of English, three interpreters translated testimony
so they could follow the proceedings. A jury pool of 150 men
was whittled down to twelve men: Jeremiah Washburn, Charles
Hudson (jury foreman), Leavitt Corbett (also spelled
Covett), John Beals, Joseph Kelley, Anthony Kelley, Isaac K.
Wise, Thacher R. Raymond, Charles Lawrence, William Knight,
Peter Brigham, and Jacob H. Bates. Once they were impaneled,
the clerk read the indictment against the defendants:
. . . on the twentieth day of
September, in the year of our Lord one thousand eight
hundred and thirty-two, upon the high sea within the
admiralty and maritime jurisdiction of the United
States, and out of the jurisdiction of any particular
State, with force and arms did feloniously and
piratically set upon, board, break and enter . . . the Mexican . . . and
then and there piratically and feloniously did assault
John Groves Butman . . . and . . . put the said John
Groves Butman in great bodily fear and danger of his
life; and ten boxes, each containing two thousand
dollars . . . of the value of twenty thousand dollars .
. . with force and arms . . . did steal, rob, take and
carry away . . . . (Report, 5-6)
After this, the district attorney
opened his case.
Gentlemen
of
the Jury . . . Here are twelve men, strangers
to our country and to our language, indicted for a
heinous offence, and now before you for life or death.
They are indicted for a daring crime, and a flagrant
violation of the laws, not only of this, but of every
other civilized people. They are accused of piracy,
which is an offence punishable by all nations, as well
as by the particular government against which it has
been committed. (Report, 7)
This is an
offence against the universal law of society; —a pirate
being, according to Sir Edward Coke, hostis humani generis.
As therefore he has renounced all the benefits of
society and government, and has reduced himself afresh
to the savage state of nature, by declaring war against
him; so that every community has a right, by the rule of
self defence, to inflict that punishment upon him which
every individual would in a state of nature have been
otherwise entitled to do, for any invasion of his person
or personal property.
By the Act
of Congress, April 30, 1790, if any person, upon
the high seas, or in any river, haven, or bay, out of
the jurisdiction of any particular state, commit murder
or robbery, on board a vessel, he shall be deemed a
pirate and a felon, and shall suffer death. (Trial, 4 and 5)
During the trial, Brown
identified Ruiz and Boyga as two of the pirates, although
both vehemently denied having attacked the Mexican.
Lacom also recognized Ruiz, describing him as being “from
five feet four to five feet six inches high – was of a dark
complexion – think he had straight hair – he was a middle
sized man, not very stout.” (Report, 12)
Battis also described the two men:
Ruiz had on a tarpaulin hat;
cannot say whether he had a jacket or not; he had on
duck pantaloons and a checked shirt. Remember the
boatswain – should think he was about five feet high. He
had a straight nose, with a bunch on the right side of
it; had no whiskers, and was not very stout. (Report, 13)
Thomas Fuller’s description
provided even greater detail. “Recollect Ruiz perfectly
well. Saw him beat our steward with a batten . . . . Saw . .
. six or eight pirates on deck – Ruiz among them, and
another with him, five feet two or three inches in height,
dark complexion, long . . . crooked Roman nose; had on a
white felt hat; had a jacket, but don’t know the color.” (Report, 14) After providing this testimony,
Fuller “struck [Ruiz] a terrible blow, and then retreated
back very suddenly.” (Trial, 10) That action
earned Fuller a reprimand from the judges.
Ridgly, the Mexican’s
cook, pointed to his counterpart on the Panda,
Ferrer. “The schooner sometimes [came] so near the brig that
he could see the tattooing on Ferrer’s face. A part of this
tattooing was very perceptible, consisting of deep scars
drawn perpendicularly down the prisoner’s cheeks.” (Report, 15) Ferrer took exception to this
identification and said, “You must have very fine eyes,” –
an observation that elicited laughter from the other
prisoners. (Report, 15)
In an affidavit, Salem resident
James Dalrymple, Jr. swore that he and John Battis boarded
the Savage after she anchored in the harbor
to see the prisoners.
. . . John Battis, who had been
one of the crew of the Mexican . . . went
down with me, and looked at them as they were in the
prison of the ship – and he examined them several
minutes – when I asked him if he knew any of them? He
answered me to this effect; “I can't say whether I do
know any of them or not—but that one," (here Battis
pointed to . . . the carpenter) "I think I have seen him before." I think
Battis also said that he could not swear
to any of them. (Supplement, 15)
Among the state’s witnesses was
Joseph Perez, who agreed to testify against his comrades in
exchange for his freedom.
On the outward passage, they
spoke first a corvette, and then an American brig – that
brig was the Mexican – we spoke her on the 25th of September . . .
the captain . . . ordered the schooner to go about, and
stand for the brig as soon as it became more light –
brig altered her course . . . had all sails set at half
past six o’clock . . . the Panda then
set her squaresail and steered for the brig – when they
neared her, a sailor went forward and fired a musket –
the brig then hove to, and hoisted the American flag –
the schooner hoisted the Columbian flag . . . the boat
of the brig came to the schooner with four men and one
officer. . . the third mate, the boatswain, the
carpenter, and one sailor then jumped into her, and
proceeded to the brig. (Report, 16-17)
On hearing this testimony, Ruiz
“started from his seat,
shook his fist at Perez, and, in loud and passionate tones,
declared him a traitor, a liar,
and a rogue.” (Report, 17)
During their
stay at various locations in Africa, Perez testified that
“[t]he money was divided by Capt. Gibert. He gave the mate
$2,400; I received only $250. . . . He gave the boatswain
$500; Garcia $400; Castillo $250; Montenegro $250; and
Delgardo $300. . . . Captain had $4000 in his trunk, $5000
which was left for him at Cape Lopez, and what remained of
the $6000 which were divided among witnesses and others. . .
. There was no rule of division among the crew of the Panda. The captain was sole owner of the
vessel and did as he liked.” (Report,22)
Some of the money was buried,
retrieved, and then buried again. A portion was thrown
overboard. Supplies were also purchased with it, but Perez
didn’t know what happened to the remainder of the $20,000
that the pirates stole.
One point of contention was
whether the Panda was the same ship that
attacked the Mexican, because when Captain
Trotter and his men captured the pirates, the Panda
didn’t quite match the description of the pirate ship.
Battis described her as having “a carved head, painted white
. . . She was painted black with a white streak.” (Report, 13) When the men from HMS Curlew captured her, Quentin described the Panda as being “a long, low, two topsail
schooner; she was sharp, and her masts raked a great deal;
her figurehead was cut off; no name on her stern; her deck
was that of a slaver, with a grated hatchway.” (Report,
27)
Perez testified the crew
altered Panda’s appearance. She “. . . had
a billet-head, but it was changed for an awkward piece of
wood – they altered her rig, and made her a two-topsail
instead of a foretopsail schooner . . . the alteration was
made four or five days after we left the Mexican . . .” (Report, 19)
In his affidavit, filed with
the court after the trial ended, Jose Velazquez described
the Panda as she looked in March 1832.
She had . . . no figure head .
. . but a cutwater—it was in one continued piece. She
was rigged with two topsails. She carried a carronade on
each side, and a pivot gun abaft the mainmast. The
carronades were of iron, the pivot gun of brass. On the
. . . voyage from Havana to Africa, she had the same
guns; but a new suit of sails . . . she was rigged the
same manner this voyage as on her former one. (Supplement, 3)
Alexander Thomas, a Liverpool
seaman in Africa aboard another ship when Panda
arrived at the river Nazareth, said “she had no figure-head
or billet-head, but a smooth stem, on which the bowsprit
rested. She was painted all black [on] the outside, and the
inside of her bulwarks was painted green. She had no white
streak the outside.” (Supplement, 16)
The prosecution also submitted
six documents into evidence, which the British had found on
the Panda.
a.
“Royal
passport”, dated 29 April 1831, “permitting Captain Pedro
Gibert to take a cargo of lawful
merchandise direct to St. Thomas and Princes Island . . .”
b. Moro passport provided to
Gibert in Havana, dated 18 April, stating that thirty men
made up the crew and “she carries, solely for the defence
of the vessel, one brass pivot gun, of 16; 2 gunnades of
12, in her battery, 24 muskets, 32 swords, 4 pairs of
pistols, and corresponding munitions.”
c. Bill of sale for Panda.
d. Detailed invoice for cargo
“precisely suited for the African trade.”
e. Contract stipulating that
Gibert was to be paid “$100 per month, and 10 per cent. on
the cargo, and $3, a head for every slave he brings.”
f. Instructions for Gibert,
who was “to act according to his discretion, after
consulting with his mate Bernardo de Soto, and to use due
diligence . . . to procure a return cargo: and to see that
meekness and tenderness be observed on board,
and to avoid all suspicious looking vessels.” When Panda
returned to Havana, he was “to enter Matanzas at night in
silence, and, if hailed, say that you are from St. Thomas,
in ballast, and that
there are certain officers there, who are advised of their
wishes, and will instruct him what is proper for him to
do.” (Trial, 36-37)
Before Dunlap rested his case,
he called several expert witnesses who testified to the
possibility that the Mexican and Panda could cross paths at the place and on
the day that Captain Butman said. Zacariah Jellison, who had
traveled to and from the West Indies ten times and was
familiar with navigating the Caribbean, said, “There is a
great probability of two vessels of the description of the Mexican and Panda meeting in
the latitude and longitude marked out.” (Trial,
34)
The defense also called their
experts to contest the prosecution’s claim that the two
vessels could have met at the coordinates Captain Butman
provided. Captain Joseph Smith, an American naval officer
with more than twenty-five years experience at sea, thought
it “improbable, that the Mexican, sailing
from Salem on the 29th, and the Panda from
Havana on the 20th, would meet, provided that both vessels
improved their time to the best advantage. . . . If the brig
and schooner would meet at all, it would be where the brig
was robbed.” (Trial, 39) Samuel Austin
Turner was acquainted with the Mexican. “From some calculations which I have
made, the Mexican and Panda,
under given data, would not approach each other nearer than
one hundred miles” assuming “they both avail themselves of
every advantage.” (Trial, 40)
Character witnesses were also
called. Santiago Elonzo testified that Captain Gibert “bears
a good character in the best mercantile houses in Havana. .
. . I . . . have always heard merchants, concerned in the
African trade, speak highly of Bernardo de Soto . . . .” (Trial, 38-39) Another witness, however,
provided more persuasive testimony about de Soto’s character
while he was captain of the Leon.
During one of his voyages . . .
he saved and brought in the crew and passengers of the
American ship Minerva, which had taken fire. The passengers were
thirty or forty in number, (chiefly Irish) going to New
Orleans or Mobile. De Soto’s conduct was very highly
spoken of at the time in Havana, and he was presented
with a piece of plate, by the merchants of New Orleans.”
(Trial, 50)
Daniel F. Hale, one of those
passengers, swore that he and the others “could not possibly
have been saved, had they not been assisted by De
Soto, as the Minerva had a cargo of
lime, which would have taken fire on coming in contact with
the water, and the vessel had already sprung aleak [sic].” (Report, 53-54)
After all the witnesses had
been called, defense attorney Hilliard presented his
argument to the jury for the next two hours.
The lives of twelve men are in
your hands. By your verdict will it be determined,
whether the individuals who now sit before you, in the
fullness of life and strength, continue to exist, or
whether they shall taste the bitterness of death . . . These men . . . are accused of
the crime of Piracy, and are consequently viewed with
horror as robbors and murderers. Let me entreat you to
lay aside all prepossessions of this kind, and not
suppose, because the prisoners are accused, that they
are guilty. . . . I venture, however, to say that the
men before you differ only in the color of their skins,
from the most respectable crew that ever sailed out of
the port of Boston.
. . . we have
heard this day . . . [that a] vessel, in circumstances
of extreme peril, lay aground on the Bahama bank. Her
crew and passengers (many of the latter, women and
children) awaited death from the two most opposite
elements, fire and water. While in this situation, one
of our own ships, like the Levite and the Priest in the
Scriptures, passed by and left the sufferers unnoticed.
But another man, like the good Samaritan in the parable
to which I have alluded, saw and rescued them . . . his
name was Bernardo de Soto! (Report, 54-55)
. . . Antonio Ferrer is plainly but a servant. He is set down as a
free black in the ship’s papers, but that is no proof
that he is free. . . . He is in all probability a slave,
and a native African, as the tattooing on his face
proves beyond a doubt. At any rate, he is but a servant.
Now will you make misfortune pay the penalty of guilt?
Do not, I entreat you, lightly condemn this man to
death. Do not throw him in to make up the dozen.
. . . And Costa, the cabin
boy, only fifteen years of age when this crime was
committed – shall he die? Shall the sword fall upon his
neck? . . . Suppose the news had reached you, that your
son was under trial for his life, in a foreign country .
. . suppose you were told that he had been executed,
because his captain and officers had violated the laws
of a distant land; what would be your feelings? (Report, 58-9)
After Hilliard finished, Childs
presented his argument for acquittal in a speech that lasted
six hours and was given over two days. His comments reminded
the jurors that Captain Gibert, like de Soto, had saved the
British officer’s life “when Capt. Trotter was in the hands
of the negro king . . . .” (Report, 59-60)
Aside from “the improbability
of the Panda falling in with the Mexican . . .” and the inconsistencies in
Perez’s testimony, Childs also questioned the distribution
of the stolen money. (Report, 65)
[T]here was no rule or
principle adopted. Now, I would ask, if it is probable
that men would act thus carelessly respecting the
darling object of their souls; to obtain which they had
forfeited their honor, their reputation and their very
lives? (Report, 61)
Once the defense rested,
District Attorney Dunlap spoke to the jurors for six hours
on the fourteenth day of the trial. One point he addressed
in his closing argument concerned the instructions provided
to Gibert before he left Havana.
Gibert is told to sail from St.
Thomas in ballast, to enter with great secresy into the
harbor of Matanzas by night, and hold intercourse with
certain persons indicated in his instructions. He was
allowed to cruise where he pleased. He was left without
any control but his own will. The slave trade is the
twin-brother of piracy, for all the piracies of our day
are committed by slave dealers. (Trial, 47)
Dunlap also refreshed the
jurors’ memories on there being no question that the two
vessels met where Captain Butman said and that Captain
Gibert and his crew were the ones who committed the robbery.
Now, why, if they had done
nothing wrong, destroy their vessel? . . . these men
preferred to destroy their vessel and place themselves
under the protection of the negroes, rather than submit
to the search of a lawfully commissioned cruiser of the
greatest naval power in the world. They had nothing to
fear even on the score of their being slavers, because
no vessel can be captured unless she have slaves on
board, which the Panda had not at the time she was
taken. (Report, 69)
. . . not a
single individual of the crew had ever mentioned the
robbery . . . . This unnatural silence proved that they
were all equally implicated in the crime, and all felt
the necessity of keeping the secret; that they . . .
were bound together as a band of brothers, by a common
sense of guilt and danger . . . (Report, 70)
On Tuesday morning, Judge Story
gave his charge to the jury in front of a crowded court
room. It took six hours to sum up the evidence presented by
the prosecution and defense. In essence the jurors needed to
answer three questions:
1.
Was the Mexican robbed?
2. Was that
robbery, if committed, committed by the Panda?
3. If robbed by
the Panda, were all the prisoners
present implicated in the crime?
Then Story stated: With
regard
to the first question, there could be no doubt. (Report, 73)
He also addressed witness
statements regarding the good character of some of the
accused.
With reference to the good
characters given by some of the witnesses of Capt.
Gibert . . . a good character certainly availed much,
but numerous instances were on record of men, long held
in high estimation, suddenly committing the greatest and
most horrible crimes. With regard to De Soto, the
generous act performed by that individual was fully
estimated by every person in the Court. (Report, 74)
Before the jury retired, they
were given “papers, charts and documents” to refer to during
their deliberations. (Trial, 48) When the
jury returned the next day, they acquitted Antonio Ferrer,
Nicola Costa, Juan Antonio Portana, Domingo Guzman, and Jose
Velasquez.
Captain Gibert was told to
stand.
Clerk. – Jurors look upon the prisoner; prisoner
look upon the jurors. How say you, Gentlemen, is the
prisoner at the bar, Pedro Gibert, guilty or not guilty?
Foreman. –
GUILTY. (Report, 75)
Also found guilty were Bernardo
de Soto, Francisco Ruiz, Manuel Boyga, Manuel Castillo,
Angel Garcia, and Juan Montenegro.
Once the verdicts were
announced, the foreman recommended mercy for one convicted
pirate.
The sympathies of the Jury have
been strongly moved in behalf of Bernardo de Soto, on
account of his generous, noble, and self-sacrificing
conduct in saving the lives of more than 70 human beings
. . . and they desire that his case should be presented
to the merciful consideration of the Government. (Report, 75)
The Report the
Trial of Pedro Gibert, Bernardo de Soto . . . included
the following comments on the prisoners as the findings were
unveiled:
The appearance and demeanor of
Captain Gibert are the same as when we first saw him;
his eye is undimmed, and the decision and command yet
sit upon his features. We did not discern the smallest
alteration of color or countenance when the verdict of
the jury was communicated to him; he merely slightly
bowed, and resumed his seat. With de Soto the case
was different. He is much altered; has become thinner,
and his countenance this morning was expressive of the
deepest despondency. When informed of the contents of
the paper read by the foreman of the jury, he appeared
much affected, and while being removed from the Court
covered his face with his handkerchief.
Castilo (a half-caste, with an
extremely mild and pleasing countenance,) pointed
towards heaven, and called upon the Almighty to bear
witness that he was innocent; Ruiz uttered
some
words with great vehemence; and Garcia said
“all were in the same ship; and it was strange that some
should be permitted to escape while others were
punished.” (Report, 76)
As for Costa, “[w]e certainly
think the sympathy expressed in favor of Costa
very ill placed . . . his conduct during the whole trial has
been characterized by the most reckless effrontery and
indecorum. Even when standing up to receive the verdict of
the jury, his face bore an impudent smile, and he evinced
the most total disregard of the mercy which had been
extended towards him.” (Report, 76)
Following the trial, the
defendants filed affidavits attesting to their innocence.
Ferrer submitted they “did not rob or
see the American brig Mexican
on our voyage, or rob any other vessel. We saw several
vessels on our voyage, but did not speak any of them. I
know, for I saw it, that the Captain brought silver money,
dollars, on board at Havana in his trunk; but I can't say
how much—I should think over $1000.” (Supplement,
5)
Of Perez’s character, Costa
said:
|
. . . I was with him on
board a schooner called the Manuelita . .
. while we were there, Perez . . . picked [one
seaman’s] pocket, I saw him do it and run away,
and I and three others ran after him but could
not catch him. On counting his money, the man found
Perez had robbed him of eight or ten dollars in
silver and gold. (Supplement, 10)
|
 |
Before the convicted pirates
received their sentence, Judge Story heard defense
motions for a new trial on 16 December 1834. He
believed he didn’t have the right to grant such a request
and went into the whys and wherefores in great detail. One
reason concerned the translators, but since there were no
objections during the trial and the three men who served in
this capacity consulted each other to verify the veracity of
the translated testimony, he overruled this point.
Another reason the defense
wanted a new trial was because the court refused to try each
man separately. To this Story said:
The sole ground upon which the
present motion was made was, that by means of separate
trials, the prisoners wished and intended to make use of
the testimony of each other in their defence. . . . The
charge was a charge of a joint piracy on the high sea,
committed by all the prisoners . . . . It is clear by
law that confederates in the same piracy, put upon trial
at the same time, are not competent witnesses for each
other. . . . In a joint trial, the Government has the
right to exclude all the prisoners from being witnesses.
. . . (Supplement, 28)
The eighth point of the motion
concerned sequestered jurors’ access to newspapers and
alcoholic beverages during the trial.
[I]t was agreed between the
counsel in open court, that the jury might have all
reasonable refreshments during the trial, that they
might communicate on business with their friends, and
write and receive papers . . . the papers being
previously examined, and the conversation witnessed and
heard by one or more of the officers of the court. . . .
the officers inspecting [the newspapers] first and
cutting out every thing that in any matter related to
the trial. (Supplement, 35)
As to the drinking, one juror
did so because the water would make him sick. “The counsel
for the prisoners then assented in open court to this
indulgence” as did the district attorney, who suggested the
other jurors might also partake to insure their health. The
defense lawyers agreed as long as the jurors did so “in as
moderate a manner as practicable.” (Supplement,
36)
Once all motions had been dealt
with, Andrew Dunlap moved “that judgment be rendered on this
verdict, and that the sentence which the law awards against
each of these prisoners at the bar, be now pronounced.” (Supplement, 44) Then Judge Story asked the
convicted pirates if they had anything to say. With great
dignity, Gibert stood and, in his native tongue, said:
If we had been pirates, should
we have conducted our business at a point so near the
English vessels, which were continually entering and
leaving the port . . . ?
If we had been
pirates or the slightest suspicion of it, would the
English vessels which were on the coast, have left it to
Trotter during seven months to come from the Cape of
Good Hope to take us?
Again I ask, if
we had been pirates, should we have observed such a
conduct in respect to Trotter, the destroyer of our
vessel? Should we have interceded to save his life and
that of the officer who accompanied him, and of the
unfortunate men, who were aboard when the vessel blew
up?
. . . when the
schooner was seized my people brought away the boat,
which they delivered to me. Could such subordination
have been maintained among pirates, who found themselves
without a vessel, and in a state of abandonment on the
coast of Africa? The captain commands his crew; they go
with his boat to seek for $11,000; they take $6000,
leaving for me $5000 buried, so says Perez. The $9000
spent by me at Principe, and the $5000 left buried make
$14,000, leaving only $6000 to be divided among all the
rest! Would pirates have been content with such a
division? Could the captain expect that his men, sent on
such an errand with his only boat, would return having
exactly fulfilled his orders, especially when Perez as
he says was among them? Would they not have gone off
with boat and money? (Supplement, 60-61)
When Judge Story finally
sentenced the convicted men, he said:
Prisoners at the Bar . . . it is now my painful duty to
pronounce the sentence of the law upon each of you, for
the crime whereof you severally stand convicted. . . .
you, and each of you . . .[shall] be severally hung by
the neck until you be severally dead. (Supplement, 72
and Snowe, 113)
When Donna Petrona Pereyra
heard of her husband’s imprisonment and that de Soto was
being tried on a charge of piracy, she decided to fight for
his life.
The shock to her feelings was
terrible, but her love and fortitude surmounted them
all; and she determined to brave the terrors of the
ocean, to intercede for her husband if condemned, and at
all events behold him once more. . . . After a
boisterous passage, the vessel reached [New York], when
she learned her husband had already been tried and
condemned to die. The humane people . . . advised her to
hasten on to Washington, and plead with the President
for a pardon. On arriving at the capital, she solicited
an interview . . . which was readily granted. (Ellms, 92-3)
President Andrew
Jackson’s programs were controversial and the
“aristocracy” of Washington disliked his backwoods honesty.
While he considered whether to grant the pardon, he received
the following letter:
To His Excellency, General Andrew Jackson,
President of the United States, Washington City,
You damn’d old Scoundrel if you don’t sign the
pardon of your fellow men now under sentence of Death,
De Ruiz and De Soto, I will cut your throat whilst you
are sleeping. I wrote to you repeated Cautions so look
out or damn you. I’ll have you burnt at the Stake in the
City of Washington.
You know me! Look out! (Jackson)5
This was not the first, or
last, death threat Jackson
received, and he survived an assassination attempt, making
him the first president to be targeted by an assassin.6
Since someone – probably a clerk – wrote “anonymous” on
the envelope containing the Booth’s threatening letter, the
president probably didn’t allow it to influence his
decision. Rather he took into consideration the number of
lives de Soto saved when the Minerva sank.
Andrew Jackson
(left) and Junius Brutus Booth (right)
Whereas, at the October Term,
1834, of the Circuit Court of the United States,
Bernardo de Soto was convicted of Piracy, and sentenced
to be hung on the 11th day of March last from which
sentence a respite was granted him . . . . And whereas
the said Bernardo de Soto has been represented as a fit
subject for executive clemency—
Now therefore, I,
Andrew Jackson, President of the United States of
America, in consideration of the premises, divers good
and sufficient causes me thereto moving, have pardoned,
and hereby do pardon the said Bernardo de Soto . . . .
Done at the City of Washington the sixth day of July,
AD. 1835, and of the independence of the United States
[the] sixtieth. Andrew Jackson. (Ellms, 93)
One month earlier, Gibert,
Montenegro, Castillo, and Garcia ascended the scaffold
behind the jail. Boyga had to be carried up and seated in a
chair, because the night before he had slashed his neck
“with a piece of tin.” (Ellms, 93) Although given medical
aid, he never regained consciousness. Gibert said, “Boys, we
are going to die; but let us be firm, for we are innocent.”
(Ellms, 94) After the marshal read the execution warrant,
“the ropes were adjusted round the necks of the prisoners,
and a slight hectic flush spread over the countenance of
each; but not an eye quailed, nor a limb trembled, not a
muscle quivered. The fatal cord was now cut, and the
platform fell, by which the prisoners were launched into
eternity.” (Ellms, 94)
Ruiz remained in his cell,
shouting and singing. He had received a stay of execution to
determine his sanity following the trial. After two naval
surgeons declared his insanity was a pretense to escape
execution, he danced the hempen jig on 11 September 1835.
Of the men involved in the
attack on the Mexican, Thomas Fuller
eventually rose from cabin boy to captain. John Battis’s son
published his father’s account of the piracy in 1898. Rather
than return to Spain, Bernardo de Soto moved to the West
Indies, where he sailed for thirty years before Captain
Nicholas Snell of Salem recognized him as the captain of a
steamer.
Notes:
1.
Illustration
Caption: View from Central Wharf in Salem to Derby Wharf,
named after Elias Hasket Derby, a privateer during the
American Revolution. In Derby's days, this was known as
Long Wharf.
2. The information in Ellms’
book should be taken with a grain of salt. He embellished
some details and fabricated others, which he interwove
into the historical facts.
3.
The Curlew started hunting the pirates after a
report of the attack appeared in the Essex
Register. “Running into the harbor of St. Thomas,
Captain Hunt [of the Gleaner]
noticed a topsail schooner coming in the bay.” He
retrieved his newspaper “and brought it up on deck, where
he studied it carefully. . . . Later he obtained
permission to go aboard the schooner on a pretext, and
while there noticed two spars which he remembered had been
on the Mexican. Hunt returned . . . to
his own vessel.” (Snow, 110) His visit, though, roused the
pirates’ suspicions, and they left St. Thomas. Hunt waited
until morning to locate the Curlew and
apprise Captain Trotter of what he’d seen.
4. It was not uncommon for
pirate ships to carry flags of various nations on board.
It was also a common practice aboard most ships during
times of war.
5. For many years, historians argued
over the authenticity of this letter. Presidential
historians considered it a fake, but theater historians
believed it to be real. “History Detectives,” a television
show, recorded how the mystery of the document was solved.
The father of John Wilkes Booth, Junius Booth was a noted
Shakespearean actor at the time that this trial, which was
a media sensation, took place. Many people who followed the
trial believed the pirates “had gotten a bum rap.” Booth has been described as
“a combination of
Dennis Rodman and Darth Vader” and was noted for his
histrionic behavior, especially when he drank. (Jackson)
Advertisements in the
Philadelphia newspapers – the city where the letter was
postmarked – mentioned that Booth was to star in Othello and Richard III at
the time the letter was sent. He failed to show up for
either performance and later concluded his apology with: “My insane behavior in
writing insolent letters to my best patrons and to the
authorities of this country, I can scarcely hope will be
pardoned. May God preserve General Jackson and this happy
republic.” (History, 8)
6. The man who tried to
assassinate Andrew Jackson was a deranged housepainter.
The assassination attempt took place at the Capitol, but
the would-be killer’s gun misfired. A short time later,
the Washington Globe published a number
of the death threats the president had received.
For more information, I
recommend the following resources:
Battis, John. “Dead Cats Don’t
Mew” in Captured by Pirates: 22 Firsthand
Accounts of Murder and Mayhem on the High Seas edited
by John Richard Stephens. Fern Canyon, 1996, 66-75.
Berry, Steve. The
Jefferson Key. Ballantine, 2011. [This is a novel and
wasn’t used to provide factual information contained in this
article. I include it here because it brought this case to
my attention. (my
review)]
Botting, Douglas. The
Pirates. Time-Life, 1978.
Butman, John, Captain. “They
Threatened Us with Instant Death” in Captured
by Pirates: 22 Firsthand Accounts of Murder and Mayhem on
the High Seas edited by John Richard Stephens. Fern
Canyon, 1996, 76-80.
Earle, Peter. The
Pirate Wars. Thomas Dunne, 2003.
Ellms, Charles. “History of the
Adventures, Capture and Execution of the Spanish Pirates” in
The Pirates
Own Book: Authentic Narratives of the Most
Celebrated Sea Robbers. Marine Research Society, 1837,
80-95.
Freeman, Katie. “Letter
threatening
Jackson’s life determined to be written by father of man
who killed Lincoln,” Knoxnews.com (25
January 2009).
“History Detectives” transcript
of episode 703, Story 2: Booth Letter.
“Jackson
Papers
Project Helps Solve History Mystery,” Tennessee
Today, 14 January 2009.
Konstam, Angus. The
World
Atlas of Piracy. Lyons Press, 2010.
Luckhardt, Alice L. “The Treasure Coast’s Own
Legendary Pirate: Captain Don Pedro Gilbert,”
Florida Monthly
Magazine
(December 2009).
[http://www.treasurecoastpiratefest.com/images/DonPedroGilbert-Pirate.pdf
-- link no longer active 8/1/2015]
A
Report of the Trial of Pedro Gibert, Bernardo de Soto,
Francisco Ruiz, Nicola Costa, Antonio Ferrer, Manuel
Boyga, Domingo de Guzman, Juan Antonio Portana, Manuel
Castillo, Angel Garcia, Jose Velazquez, Juan Montenegro
alias Jose Basilio de Castro, Before the United States
Circuit Court, on an Indictment Charging Them with the
Commission of an Act of Piracy, on Board the Brig
Mexican, of Salem. Russell, Odiorne & Metcalf, 1834.
Snow, Edward
Rowe. “The Last Pirates executed in Boston” in Pirates
and Buccaneers of the Atlantic Coast. Commonwealth
Editions, 2004, 104-114.
A Supplement to
the Report of the Trial of the Spanish Pirates, with the
Confessions or Protests, Written by Them in Prison. Lemuel Gulliver, 1835.
Trial
of
the Twelve Spanish Pirates of the Schooner Panda, a
Guinea Slaver, Consisting of Don Pedro Gibert, Captain;
Bernardo de Soto, Mate; Francisco Ruiz, Carpenter;
Antonio Ferrer, the tattooed Cook; Nicola Costa, Manuel
Boyga, Domingo de Guzman, Juan Antonio Portana, Manuel
Castillo, Angel Garcia, Jose Velazquez, and Juan
Montenegro, Seamen, for Robbery and Piracy committed on
board the Brig Mexican, 20th Sept. 1832. Lemuel Gulliver, 1834.
Pirates
and Privateers
