Sunday Washington globe., 1902-04-06
written for The suNDAy CLopr.


Recently while sojourning the ancient
seaport town Of Fenandina betook nv
self, after the shades of night had fallen, TO
beautiful garden adjoining my hosiery,
and throwing myself into hammock, soon
became possessed of the d0lCe far HieRfe
spirit Of the place
II may well be believed that the full
moon shining down through a rich foliage
of palmetto's, plantains and live oaks,
while not a breath of air was stirring, pre-
sented a scene of enchantment 10 be
afforded by nothing else than a moon
light night in the tropics. My thoughts pre-
sently began to wander to the subject Of the
buccaneers and pirates who in former days
used to frequent Fernandina Bay and the
other waters Of the Florida and West Indian
shores. / know not how long / mused thus
when queer looking nautical figure ap-
preached, He was arrayed in wide trousers,
his left leg very much bowed while his
right consisted of a wooden peg A wicked
looking cutlass hung at his side and a row
of pistols encircled his belt
But the most astonishing feature Of his
appearance was that he carried his head
tucked under his right arm. He shufled
up in front of me and threw his head far up
in the air like football playing catching
it as it came down, and then proceeded to
dance an elaborate ho1n-pipe around in front
of me in a sort Of semi-circle winding up
by again throwing his head high in the air,
and neatly recovering it on its return. He
then somewhat methodically placed his head
on his shoulders, made triumphant bow,
which, with eloquent pantomiue plainly
seemed to say: you didn't think ] could
do it, did yon?"
Ny first thought was that this strange be.
ing was some famed East Indian necro-
mancer who had deigned to treat me to an
example of his marvellous skill, but this
theory was quickly dispelled when he be.
gan to narrate in an eccentric high falsetto
voice the history Of his career, which was
substantially as follows
The ghost of pirate chief am /
Der the Spanish Main in days gone by,
1 sailed with a slashing crew
With cutlass keen and scowling mien,
And bushy beard Of inky hue.
A bushel of gilt for a shoulder knot
And hawk-like eye on the gains got
From brigs I'd scutted at sea.
With whiskers thar grows to the eyes and
nose,
And bootlegs Aared at the knee.
With one eye cooked for a merchantmen
With the other the windward seas ! scan,
And my cross bone standard Haunting
high;
From the quarterback / view the wreck
As is made when my broadsides fly.
From Currituck Sound to the Isle Of
France
I l. rta -t,o, 8 ,,r,~ , T,.,,.
It was ever my pride to scourage the
sea.
At their threats ] scoffed as / stood aloft
At the main top scudding far to lea.
With the square-rgged Dutch built ships
played
For the Chesapeake clippers in ambush
laid:
The galleons plundered with eager glee,
The British yacht plugged with shot,
Thus princely income came TO me.
The captain, the midship mite and the mate
l generally consigned to a cruel fate,
And their craft gave over TO loot.
Just after the fight to the yard-arm tight
strung up a row of human fruit.
The bos n puffed up man of rank
Was invited out to walk plank,
While the sharks they grinned a welcome
smile.
Then keel.hauled the crew for a time or
two,
Henceforth they were good enough pirates
the while.
Once cruising off the far Ladrones
To send the pirate to Davy Jones,
By piercing my keel with my for'ad gun
Vowed a Portugee craft that stole up aft,
But the Dago's l spitted one by one.
Nine years l strewed the waves with dead,
All craft before my pennon fed,
For they feared to meet my heavy frown.
l caused to howl the seas till afoul,
ran Of a skipper from Marblehead Town.
In meek sad voice he piped a song.
Inviting the pirate to lay along
The side of his small defenseless Barque.
Il was welcome to board and seize his
hoard"
deemed it naught but an innocent lark
So with cutlass in teeth and pistol IN hand
Ger the bulwarks in puddles Of tar we
land,
In helpless Aoundering way
While he leisurely laughed as he raked us
aft
With his taf-rail gun that fatal day.
And ever since then haunt the seas
Where my sails oft spread to the salty
breeze,
And the trade winds famed my hurri
cane deck
When steering my PROV for a CORY row,
To wade in blood full oft to the neck
He closed his narrative by saying that he
hoped he had succeeded in interesting me
with his tale of mariners life, as it was his
especial study always to please, and that he
regretted he had not had the pleasure OF
meeting me in the DAYS when he cruized in
these waters while in the flesh as he could
then have succeeded readily in affordIn0 me
entertainment of a truly exciting kind.
Among the other deep impressions made
on my mind by this novel psychical mani
festation was the conviction that there is
truly no repentance after death as the spirit
of this notable old scourage Of the seas still
seemed TO rejoice in the viilainous deeds
done while ID the flesh. T. G X