After his seven years of servitude, Leo was released. Then he bartered passage to Charles Towne with the silver his former master gave him. Once there, he found himself at the Pink House Tavern and lost what was left of his silver to a foul-mouthed Irishman. The mistress running the bordello above took mercy and hired him as the bar keep. He has been working there ever since, tending the bar, helping with cooking, cleaning, and serving as the ‘counter-watch watchman’. He explained that the rich socialites in Charles Towne kept trying to shut down the Pink House and other places of ‘known debauchery’. They used citizen patrols and they started their own watch. When Leo saw a patrolman coming close, he would alert the ladies and patrons up in the bordello and they would hide in a storage space high up in the roof. Patrick and April could only grin as they matched pieces of Shamus’s stories with Leo’s.
“So, ma’am,” the tavern keeper said, still smiling at the company he had at the moment, “what is your interest in Mr. Dandridge? If you don’t mind me askin’ that is.”
Patrick looked up at April. She had to be careful with her response. “Well, an old friend of ours said he could possibly help us with something. It’s kind of private, ya know?”
“Okay, ma’am. No worries, I was just trying to keep the conversation going. I admit I am enjoying speaking with you.” Leo looked at Patrick. “And your kind husband, ma’am.”
“Oh I’m not worried at all, my dear Leo.”
“What is yer friend’s name? If he knows Mr. Dandridge, I might know him as well.”
Without thinking she blurted out, “Shamus. Shamus Red….” April stopped talking as soon as she saw the bartenders face. He had turned bright red and that soft smile was now pressed into a frown. He began breathing heavily and the blood vessels in his temples and neck began to pop out. “Leo, my dear! Are you alright?” April laid a hand of concern on his forearm but he stared at her hand in disgust.
“Out! Get out now!” Leo screamed as he stood up and swatted April’s hand away. “There ain’t no person on this earth that can be a friend to that monster! That drunken, annoying Irish bastard swindled a whole lot of good folks out of their hard earned silver. Get out now!” Leo’s chest and shoulders were heaving with full, deep breaths and his fists were clenched tight.
Patrick pulled a purse of silver out of his jacket pocket and threw it on the table. “Thank you for your meal and help, good sir.” He grabbed April by the arm and pulled her out of the tavern. They could hear crashing sounds and breaking glass as they ran away. They had to leave Mulatto Alley quickly before too much of the wrong attention was garnered from the temper tantrum Leo was now fully engaged in.
“What a damn fool!” April exclaimed as they turned the corner onto Meeting Street and headed toward the powder magazine. “What in this world would cause a man to act like such an infant?”
“Well, April, Shamus is involved so it’s very likely justified,” her husband replied.
Patrick stopped and turned to look at April. She was trying not to smile, but once Patrick smiled they both laughed and ran to Cumberland Street where the magazine was located.
Once they arrived, they saw a cart pulling away. Fearing it was Francis they ran to the door of the magazine. “Sir, who was that gentleman that just left?” Patrick asked.
“Who is asking?” The proper-dressed man rebutted.
“I’m sorry. My name is Mr. Freeman and I am looking for a Mr. Francis Dandridge. We were told he may be here with his son-in-law, Mr. John Prue.”
The gentleman surveyed Patrick and looked at April. She suddenly realized her hair was still down and she had left her hat in the tavern. Not the lady like appearance she had tried to keep while in Charles Towne. “I am John Prue and yes, that was my brother-in-law, Francis Dandridge. What may I do to help you?”
Patrick smiled and extended his hand, hoping to receive the secret handshake of the Freeman Society. John smiled, grabbed his hand and shook. No, John was obviously not in the club and not to be trusted. “We just need to speak with Mr. Dandridge about a business proposition. It’s quite urgent we see him as time is of the essence.”
“Ah! New business. We are always looking for new business. If it’s here in the city, then I may assist you as I handle all of Francis’s affairs in the city.”
“Oh, no, sir. This is about indigo," Patrick answered. The whoremaster Darden had found out that Dandridge was successful in indigo and it would be a good fall back to keep nosy people from prying for more information.
“I see. That is definitely not my cup of tea then. Here, I’ll draw you a map to his plantation in Stono. That’s in St. Paul’s Parish in Colleton County. Do you know where that is?”
“No, sir. If it’s far, is there a carriage we can hire to take us out there?”
“Indeed, sir. In fact, come with me and I’ll have a servant take you there. We renamed him Linus to give him a less African feel. Is that well?”
“Very well, Mr. Prue. Thank you!” Patrick replied. They followed John to his house and he summoned a house slave, not a servant, something Patrick was not accustomed to seeing. “Linus, take them to Francis’s plantation straight away. He was with me, but these two just missed him as he left the powder magazine.”
“Yessir,” the well-dressed slave responded.
The carriage was readied and within minutes the pair was heading to finally see Dandridge. Being from Savannah where slavery was still illegal, Patrick was finally exposed to a typical life of a Carolina slave. The way they were bought, sold and inherited just like cattle did not sit well with him.
April did not care for silence and struck up a conversation with Linus. After a few minutes the slave was feeling more at ease with Patrick and April. As they rode further away from Charles Towne, the slave shared a heartbreaking story of his cousin in Dorchester. Just a month ago, he was hung in a gibbet because he was accused of poisoning his master. The slave owner was a philanderer and his angry wife knew it. Linus dared to think that maybe, just maybe, it was the scorned woman who poisoned her husband and not his relative. His cousin was an easy scapegoat because paranoia against slaves still ran high after the revolt in Stono just a couple short years ago. Patrick remembered that was the revolt that Alick and Gloria had survived and were grateful they had not fallen to a similar fate. April, being a pirate, knew what it meant to be killed in a gibbet. No one should die that way, starving to death in an iron cage, especially an innocent man!
They turned off the main road and began down a road that was lined with planted fields. To their right was tobacco and to their left was the indigo, growing taller than Patrick. The odd plants were filled with what April could only describe as pink and green tiny bananas. Linus laughed at the reference and explained those were the flower buds and later, seed pods. She had to explain to Patrick that bananas were a sweet fruit grown in the Caribbean and even further south. She promised to get her husband some of the wonderful yellow fruit in the future.
They approached a two-story home built up a bit on a small hill to keep it from being flooded by the nearby tidal creek. They could survey about a dozen slaves in the fields and saw a blonde-haired woman on the porch reading to some children of all colors. This woman looked up and smiled.
“Hello, Linus! How are you?”
“Well today, Mrs. Elizabeth. How are you?”
“Very well. Thank you for asking.”
“Mr. John asked me to bring these two to see your husband. Has he returned?”
“He has and he will be in as soon as his cart is unloaded. Will all of you please come inside for some water?”
“Thank you, ma’am,” Patrick said.
“Children, we will finish this up later. You all get back to your chores now.” The children giggled and scattered, some with water buckets to take the slaves in the fields and some with brooms and mops to clean the porches. “Please come in,” Elizabeth said, opening the door for her guests.
“You have a lovely home,” April said as she e
ntered.
“Oh, thank you, my dear. It’s not much to look at now but we work hard to keep a roof over our heads and to feed all those that depend on us. Please have a seat and I will bring some cool water. Linus, you too. Please sit.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Elizabeth.”
Elizabeth quickly returned with a tray of cups filled with water. “I would offer you some tea but it’s so terribly sticky outside I can’t imagine drinking something so hot right now.”
“No, ma’am,” Patrick said after a sip. “This is perfect!”
A tall gentleman in dirtied clothes, unruly brown hair, and bright green eyes entered the house. He was startled by the sight of company, but smiled when he saw Linus. “Linus! Did you miss me already?”
“Yessir! Always, Mr. Francis!” Linus replied laughing.
“And who do we have here?”
Linus stood and gestured toward the pair on the lounge. “This is Mr. and Mrs. Freeman. They wish to speak with you about business with indigo. They tried to catch you at the magazine and Mr. John offered for me to bring them here to meet you.”
“Thank you, Linus, Might you go help Elizabeth with dinner since we have extra company?”
“Yessir,” the slave said with a slight bow.
“Feel free to stay for dinner, Linus. You know you are always welcome here.”
“Thank you, Mr. Francis, but Mrs. Francis needs me at home right now since Mr. John works late. She don’t like to be home alone.”
“I understand. Do give her my love again.”
“Yessir,” Linus replied as he left the room for the kitchen with Elizabeth.
Francis turned to his guests as Patrick and April stood. Patrick held out his hand and was relieved to receive the Freeman’s secret handshake.
“This isn’t about indigo is it, Mr. Freeman?” Francis asked in a hushed tone.
“Can we talk more privately?” Patrick asked in a whisper. Francis nodded and escorted them up the stairs to his own bedroom.
April introduced herself and explained her connection to the former great pirate better known as Anne Bonny. Francis quickly explained that Anne’s father had bought her out of imprisonment and brought her and her newborn daughter back to Charles Towne. Anne’s father had already arranged a marriage to a local plantation owner by the name of John Burleigh.
Anne’s daughter by Rackham was named Mary, in honor of her lost and beloved friend Mary Read. Burleigh had officially adopted her as his own daughter. Since then, Anne and John have had seven more children, the youngest being only two years old. The fearsome pirate had secretly settled into life on a plantation. It was a smaller one, but they frequented parties at the larger plantations due to the large inheritance that Anne had from her father. She enjoyed the attention she gained at these gatherings.
“Can you tell us how to get to her home, then?” Patrick asked.
“I can, but she’s not there.” April’s expression dampened. “Don’t worry,” Francis continued. “She’s not far from here. She is at the Drayton’s plantation on the Ashley River. There’s a fowling party that started today and will likely last until tomorrow. I will give you directions and a carriage; I’ll have to empty it though. It’s still got a few things loaded on it from my visit to Charles Towne today.”
He wrote out some instructions on how to get to the Drayton plantation just as Elizabeth began to call for supper. “Stay tonight. Eat supper with us, sleep well. Then you may journey in the morning.”
“I was really hoping to see her now,” April said with disappointment.
“I understand. However, you do not want to be out at night. There is always a risk of running afoul with some thieves in the night. Please, I beg you both, stay for tonight. Had Anne been home you could see her tonight, but I don’t want you traveling to Drayton’s in the dark.”
“He speaks wise words, my dear wife,” Patrick said as he smelled the heavenly food.
“You are right, my wolf.” she sighed deeply.
Before the four of them could sit down to eat, Patrick could not help himself and had to ask about the Dandridge’s slaves. “I have no experience as a slave master, but I doubt any others are as friendly and respectful to their slaves. I even saw Elizabeth teaching the young ones how to read.”
“We tell most people who ask that it is because educated slaves are worth more and we are building our investment. Honestly though, it is because we found out if you treat them with kindness and respect they work harder. If you give them just a little taste of freedom and they believe they are free, they are much more productive,” Mr. Dandridge explained.
April cut in, “My dear husband, most rulers have used that line of thinking for years. Everyone who lives in the colonies is a slave to a degree. Being a slave means that someone else takes your labor by threats or force. When any king or government taxes you they are doing just that, taking your labor by threats and force. The only difference between the Dandridge’s and Linus is the percentage of their labor that is stolen by someone else. If you think about it, we live on one giant plantation with a few elite politicians owning us all.”
“She is dead reckoning with her thoughts, I see why you married her. It really tears at our morality and attacks our conscience about owning slaves. We hope to find another way someday to run a farm profitably without them, but right now I have no idea what that way is,” Mr. Dandridge confessed. The rest of dinner was filled with lively debate about ideas of liberty.
He and April slept well in the main house and arose to a large breakfast. They ate and dressed in fancy party clothes provided to them by Francis and Elizabeth. They bid good bye to their new trusted companions and left behind this grand land, heading along the river to the Drayton plantation.
They couldn’t believe what they saw when they arrived. There were high society people everywhere and so many slaves they couldn’t even guess at how many there were. The fields were expansive and they were growing so many things that neither April nor Patrick could identify most of the crops. A house slave boy offered to stable their horses and cart and Patrick asked him if he knew the Burleighs. The boy nodded and pointed toward the river.
“Is Mr. Burleigh shooting today?” Patrick asked.
The boy laughed. “No, sir, of course not! Mrs. Burleigh always shoots!”
April laughed out loud as the boy led the horses away. “That is certainly not a surprise!” They approached the fowling party along the river and watched as a clay ball was thrown into the air.
On the way to the river, many slaves could be seen beating the scrub brush. Some game would spring out and two aristocratic socialites would fire their fowlers. The firelocks were lighter muskets, but extremely long and fancy. Recently, fowling was all the rage in upper class society and it was a status symbol to own one of these ornate guns. The muskets were loaded with small bird shot and people were absolutely amazed to see a bird hunted right out of the air. April chuckled as she saw a slave holding a very popular book called “Pteryplegia: Or, the Art of Shooting-Flying” while a nobleman socialite was reading it trying to figure out why he kept missing. The two made their way quickly down to the river.
Crack! Bang!
A clay ball exploded in midair. They followed the smoke to its origin of a classy dog-lock musket resting in the hands of a black haired beauty. It was Anne Bonny.
At long last, April was looking upon her adopted sister after all these years. Her heart sang and it was all she could do to hold back the tears now welling up in her eyes. Anne was laughing and certainly enjoying being the center of attention. The ex-pirate had turned to talk to her husband, but her eyes fell on April and the smile on her face dissipated.
April motioned Anne over so they would not have listening ears around them. Anne nodded and graciously excused herself to her admirers as she walked over to join the tattooed woman. She looked at the party-crashing woman from head to toe, trying to assess her identity. She saw a tattoo of a black cat peeping out of her cleavage and s
miled. “I thought it was a rumor, but damn me, you're still alive somehow. I can’t believe I am standing before little April Read after all these years. I heard rumors of a tattooed woman who pretended to be a man and captained her own ketch. I thought it would be too much to hope that you lived through the great pirate extermination,” Anne whispered.
“I thought you died. It was not till recently I found out you and your child were smuggled out and that you be living a new life as a house maiden. I see you in front of my own eyes and I feel like I am conversing with a ghost. Is it really you in there, Anne?" April questioned.
The former pirate Bonny grinned as she pulled down her neckline exposing a small black feline in her cleavage. Both women giggled and embraced. “Look, as much as I would love to host you for days, you’re a known woman and it is not safe for me or my family to be seen with you. I had to leave my past behind. A few people here have figured out my true identity, but I always deny it and they can’t prove it is me. I am now called Mrs. Anne Burleigh, mother of eight and church goer,” the ex-pirate said proudly.
18th century engraving of Anne Bonny
“I am not here to expose you. I just need some information that only you know. A few months before you all were captured and put on trial, Mary made you stop over for a day at an island to go bury her take of plunder. I think I can find it with your help. I just need the name of the island in the Caribbean she held up at,” April pleaded.
“Hmmm...” Anne looked in the air and scratched her head trying to recall.
“I think you are mistaken. It was no island in the Caribbean she stopped at, but I do remember the island you seek. It used to be called Hilton’s Head on my old sea charts. I think these days people call it John’s Island after the current owner John Casgoine. I had thought many times over the years of going to hunt the treasure myself, but Mary Read never shared with me where she buried it. Good luck finding it. She never left a map, damn her. I am just dreaming anyway. I could never get away with all my children,” Anne smiled as she reflected. The ex-pirate continued, “Speaking of children, I have a wonderful surprise for you. You see the lady over there dressed all fancy like her father, that’s Jack’s child. I named her Mary after your sister died during childbirth.”
Pirates of Savannah: The Complete Trilogy - Colonial Historical Fiction Action Adventure (Pirates of Savannah (Adult Version)) Page 31