Life and bloody career of the executed criminal, James Copeland, the great Southern land pirate

by J. R. S. Pitts

He employed two extra hands to help us down to the mouth of the river, where he discharged them. We went on down, two hands on each boat, until we passed the shoal at Smithland, the mouth of the Cumberland river, when we lashed the two boats together and took our watches by turns, two at a time. We floated all one day and part of a night, and came to the mouth of the Ohio, between midnight and daylight.

It was the turn for Wages and I to take the watch that morning. Now, on the Mississippi River, all we had to do was to keep the boats in the middle of the stream, with a light on deck to guard against steamboats. The old Irishman, the owner of the boats, went down into a small cabin in one of the boats, which he had prepared for himself, and laid down in his berth to sleep. He was much fatigued, but before he went to sleep, Wages proposed to him to take a dram of stewed whiskey punch, hot, which he knew to be a favorite beverage with the Irish. The old man consented, and Wages went to work to prepare it. We being on the alert for any and everything, had the opium ready, and gave his bowl a full charge. He drank it down and praised it as very nice, and retired. We then prepared some punch for ourselves and drank it. We then went to an opposite end of the boats and held a consultation, as to who was to make way with the old man, and it fell to my lot to strike the fatal blow!

Oh, God! when I look back, it makes me shudder. Even now it chills the blood in my veins.

It was understood that the deed was to be committed at sunrise, precisely, provided there were no boats of any kind near. By the time we had accomplished our consultation, daylight was making its appearance in the east, and I cannot here describe my feelings. Wages and McGrath discovered my embarrassment, and resorted to another potion of hot whiskey punch, which I drank freely. After I had drank, I went into the old man’s cabin, armed with a small hatchet or lathing axe. The old man was fast asleep, lying on his back; I went up on deck and looked to the east, and saw that the sun was just making his appearance; I returned to the little cabin, raised the hatchet and struck the fatal blow in the centre of the forehead, a little above the eyes. It made a full dent in the skull the size of the hammer of the axe. He uttered a kind of suppressed and strangled shriek and in a very few minutes O’Connor was numbered among the dead.

Now the next business was to dispose of him. This, however did not take us long, for we had some old cast iron grates, that had belonged to a steamboat and which we used to set our cooking pots on. We took two of them and lashed them well together, stripped off his clothing and left his body naked, and tied a strong rope around his neck, and attached that to the cast iron grates.

And oh! the awful scene that ensued! To see a fellow-being who had been one of us so recently; to see his body cast to oblivion, and his soul, then departed, to that “bourne from whence no traveler returns.” Well, or not well it was, I may say. Poor old O’Connor went down with about three hundred pounds of iron attached to him—a little below Wolf Island, not far from Mills’ Point.

We very soon passed New Madrid. On our way down the Mississippi we had several calls of “What boat is that?” “Where are you from?” to which we replied the “Non Such,” and “Red Rover,” from “Independence, Mo.”

Our next business was to dispose of his clothing, his papers, and to so disfigure the boats that they could not be identified. So we took the same “hatchet,” and rubbed off “Non Such” and “Red Rover,” and wrote in their place “Tip,” and “Tyler,” which in those days took well. Thus rigged out, we glided on gently and steadily; we had nothing to fear; we had two flatboats, and they well loaded with produce, worth over five thousand dollars.

To dispose of the boats and cargo was our next business, we well knowing that other boats would be down from the same river inquiring for O’Connor’s boats. We therefore lost no time. We never stopped till we came to the mouth of Red river, where we halted and warped into the mouth and tied up. McGrath mounted his green goggles, blacked his hair and face, so that I could not have known him, only that I was with him. Wages took one of our skiffs and went to Tunica, where he took a steamboat down to Welter’s. In a few days he and Welter returned, and we were not long in closing a trade with him. He gave us four thousand five hundred dollars in his note payable the Fourth of July ensuing for our boats and cargo. One boat was sent down the Atchafalya bayou, and the other down the Mississippi to his residence.

Wages and Welter returned to Welter’s, and McGrath and I remained to take care of the boats. A day or two after Welter sent four of his “strikers” to take charge of the boats; and after dividing the cargoes, one of them left down the river for Welter’s with two of his men on board. We remained on the other until we got an opportunity to have it towed into the Atchafalya bayou, and we then made the best of our way down the river to Welter’s, where we again joined Wages.