In July of 1703, the brigantine Charles, Capt. Daniel Plowman, was fitted out at Boston as a privateer to cruise against the French and Spanish with whom Great Britain was at war. When the vessel had been a few days at sea, Captain Plowman was taken very ill. Thereupon the crew locked him in the cabin and left him to die while they conspired to run off with the brigantine and turn pirates. The luckless master conveniently died, his body was tossed overboard and one John Quelch assumed the command. The crew seem to have agreed that he was the man for their purpose and they unanimously invited him to “sail on a private cruise to the coast of Brazil.” In those waters they plundered several Portuguese ships, and having collected sufficient booty or becoming homesick, they determined to seek their native land. With striking boldness Quelch navigated the brigantine back to Marblehead and primed his men with a story of the voyage which should cover up their career as pirates.

Suspicion was turned against them, however, the vessel was searched, and much plunder revealed. The pirates tried to escape along shore, but most of them, Quelch included, were captured at Gloucester, the Isle of Shoals, and Marblehead.

One of the old Salem records has preserved the following information concerning the fate of these rascals:

(1704)—“Major Stephen Sewall, Captain John Turner and 40 volunteers embark in a shallop and Fort Pinnace after Sun Set 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.”

Tradition records that a Salem poet of that time was moved to write of the foregoing episode:

“Ye pirates who against God’s laws did fight,

Have all been taken which is very right.

Some of them were old and others young

And on the flats of Boston they were hung.”

There is a vivacious and entertaining flavor in the following chronicle and comment: