"The pirate ship then made sail, crossed the Atlantic, and anchored in the roadstead of the Isles of Shoals. Here the crew passed the time in secreting their riches and in carousing. The commander's portion was buried on an island apart from the rest. He roamed over the isles with his beautiful companion, forgetful, it would seem, of his fearful trade, until one day a sail was seen standing in for the islands. All was now activity on board the pirate; but before getting under way the outlaw carried the maiden to the island where he had buried his treasure, and made her take a fearful oath to guard the spot from mortals until his return, were it not 'til doomsday.
"The strange sail proved to be a warlike vessel in search of the freebooter. A long and desperate battle ensued, in which the cruiser at last silenced her adversary's guns. The vessels were grappled for a last struggle when a terrible explosion strewed the sea with the fragments of both. Stung to madness by defeat, knowing that if taken alive a gibbet awaited him, the rover had fired the magazine, involving friend and foe in a common fate.
"A few mangled wretches succeeded in reaching the islands, only to perish miserably one by one, from hunger and cold. The pirate's mistress remained true to her oath to the last, or until she had succumbed to want and exposure. By report, she has been seen more than once on White Island—a tall shapely figure, wrapped in a long sea cloak, her head and neck uncovered, except by a profusion of golden hair. Her face is described as exquisitely rounded, but pale and still as marble. She takes her stand on the verge of a low, projecting point, gazing fixedly out upon the ocean in an attitude of intense expectation. A forager race of fishermen avouched that her ghost was doomed to haunt those rocks until the last trump shall sound, and that the ancient graves to be found on the islands were tenanted by Blackbeard's men."
It is more probable that whatever treasure may be hidden among the Isles of Shoals was hidden there by the shipmates of a great scamp of a pirate named John Quelch who fills an interesting page in the early history of the Massachusetts Colony. In proof of this assertion is the entry in one of the old records of Salem, written in the year 1704:
"Major Stephen Sewall, Captain John Turner, and 40 volunteers embark in a shallop and Fort Pinnace after Sunset to go in search of some Pirates who sailed from Gloucester in the morning. Major Sewall brought into Salem a Galley, Captain Thomas Lowrimore, on board of which he had captured some Pirates, and some of their Gold at the Isle of Shoals. Major Sewall carries the Pirates to Boston under a strong guard. Captain Quelch and five of his crew are hung. About 13 of the ship's Company remain under sentence of death and several more are cleared."
By no means all of the bloodstained gold of Quelch was recovered by this expedition which went to the Isles of Shoals and it is more likely to be hidden there to this day than anywhere else. Quelch was a bold figure of a pirate worthy to be named in the company of the most dashing of his profession in the era of Kidd, Bradish, Bellamy, and Low. His story is worth the telling because it is, in a way, a sequel of the tragedy of Captain Kidd.
In 1703, the brigantine Charles, of about eighty tons, owned by leading citizens and merchants of Boston, was fitted out as a privateer to go cruising against the French off the coasts of Arcadia and Newfoundland. On July 13th of that year, her commander, Captain David Plowman, received his commission from Governor Dudley of the province to sail in pursuit of the Queen's enemies and pirates, with other customary instructions. There was some delay in shipping a crew, and on the first of August the Charles was riding off Marblehead when Captain Plowman was taken ill. He sent a letter to his owners, stating that he was unable to take the vessel to sea, and suggesting that they come on board next day and "take some speedy care in saving what we can."
The owners went to Marblehead, but the captain was too ill to confer with them. He was able, however, to write again, this time urging them to have the vessel carried to Boston, and the arms and stores landed in order to "prevent embezzlement," and advising against sending the Charles on her cruise under a new commander, adding the warning that "it will not do with these people," meaning the crew then on board.
Before the owners could take any measures to safeguard their property, the brigantine had made sail and was standing out to sea, stolen by her crew. The helpless captain was locked in his cabin, and the new Commander on the quarter-deck was John Quelch who had planned and led the mutiny. Instead of turning to the northward, the bow of the Charles was pointed for the South Atlantic and the track of the Spanish trade where there was rich pirating. Somewhere in the Gulf Stream, poor Captain Plowman was dragged on deck and tossed overboard by order of Quelch.
A flag was then hoisted, called "Old Roger," described as having "in the middle of it an Anatomy (skeleton) with an Hourglass in one hand, and a dart in the Heart with 3 drops of Blood proceeding from it in the other." When the coast of Brazil was reached, Quelch and his men drove a thriving trade. Between November 15, 1703, and February 17, 1704, they boarded and took nine vessels, of which five were brigantines, and one a large ship carrying twelve guns. All these craft flew the Portugese flag, and Portugal was an ally of England by virtue of a treaty which had been signed at Lisbon on May 16, 1703. What became of the crews of these hapless vessels was not revealed, but the plunder included salt, sugar, rum, beer, rice, flour, cloth, silk, one hundred weight of gold dust, gold and silver coin to the value of a thousand pounds, two negro boys, great guns, small arms, ammunition, sails, and cordage. One of the largest of the brigantines was kept to serve as a tender.