People: The Battle of New Orleans and the Brothers Laffite

Since I'm still recuperating, I'm pulling a post from the archives. Of course I'm tweaking it a little, because I just can't help myself; enjoy!

We refer to the Battle of New Orleans as occurring on January 8, 1815, but in fact skirmishes, feints and brutal gore took place for a three week period beginning before December 21 and ending with a definitive surrender by the British on or around January 15. Unfortunately, most people today believe that the battle was a futile wast of effort and life, the Treaty of Ghent having been signed (signed is the word used in almost all cases when discussing this myth; rarely does the word ratified come into play) on December 24, 1814. Please see this excellent post at History Myths Debunked and just stop that nonsense already.

That piece of misinformation is just one of the many puzzling things to come out of one of America's most easily forgotten darkest hours. Another that is in ongoing debate among scholars of such things is where, just exactly, were Pierre and Jean Laffite over the course of those fateful three plus weeks.

At the Centennial of the battle, it was popular to attribute much of the victory to the combined efforts of one brilliant General and a rag-tag, polyglot group of local Louisianans, volunteers from Kentucky and Tennessee, enslaved and free blacks and, of course, pirates. The seamen of Barataria as a group and the Laffite brothers in particular were singled out as one of the most influential reasons for the victory. Nearly 100 years ago, as was the case only a decade after the war, "the Laffite brothers" was translated in popular culture and imagination as "Jean Laffite." The tide has turned now, with modern historians claiming that the Baratarians had little if any impact at Chalmette. William C. Davis, for instance, claims that only two percent of Jackson's forces were actual Baratarians. 

I would argue that the truth is somewhere in between these two radically different opinions. But let's first examine what the experts have to say.

Lyle Saxon, whose Lafitte the Pirate was first published in the lat 1920s, is certainly the least reliable of our sources. His book is more storytelling than history and, although it is a wonderful read, it is full of the myths and legends about the Laffites - and Jean in particular - that are now so engrained in the popular imagination that they have become ersatz facts. Even so, Saxon's only comment on what the Laffites were up to amounts to no more than a paragraph explaining that "Pierre Lafitte was given a position of trust on [January 8]..." and Jean was in the Gulf, guarding against a "rear attack." He goes on to defend Jean against the label of evading service, but he has nothing further to say on the matter.

In The Baratarians and the Battle of New Orleans, masterful historian Jane Lucas deGrummond argues that - as her title implies - those pirates from Grande Terre were a big part of Andrew Jackson's victory on Rodriguez Canal. DeGrummond was a more than capable researcher who sited sources religiously and argued with a very convincing voice. Still, in the thirty plus pages devoted to the three weeks of battle, her book has nothing to say about any contribution made by the Laffites aside from them providing a significant amount of flints, shot and gunpowder to the effort.

Next we have Jack C. Ramsay, Jr. In Jean Laffite, Prince of Pirates, he devotes a full chapter to the Battle of New Orleans. Though his overview lacks the detail of deGrummond's, it is concise enough. This makes the omission of any specific action by the Laffite brothers during the fighting particularly glaring. He brings them back to the fore of his narrative only at the end of the chapter, noting that General Jackson praised their "courage and fidelity" in his famous speech on January 21.

The definitive modern work on the lives of the Laffite brothers is William C. Davis' The Pirates Laffite, and Davis puts a new spin on what the siblings were up to at Chalmette battlefield. The entire book, well researched and documented to be sure, is skewed toward Pierre. Davis is not an apologist but a sympathizer; he is clearly trying to return Pierre's memory to our consciousness, it having been overshadowed by Jean's for almost 200 years. It is a commendable endeavor, but it has a fatal flaw: wherever there is ambiguity in the record as to which Laffite a document or memoir is referring, Davis gives the nod to Pierre.

Thus, Davis presents up with Pierre as not only close, personal adviser to Andrew Jackson but as tracker for General John Coffee in the swamp beyond Rodriguez Canal. Late in the battle of January 8, Pierre is a commander of men, sent with General Humbert to assist General Daniel Morgan on the west bank of the Mississippi. The elder Laffite brother even delivers a speech to Morgan's men, penned by Jackson himself. Meanwhile Jean, whose mission to General Reynolds at Little Lake Barataria is well documented by surviving orders written in Jackson's hand, is skulking around Grande Terre and presumably up to no good. Davis mentions that Jackson's orders of December 22 required Jean to return to Chalmette as quickly as possible but then seems to toss that fact out the window. Like the proverbial baby with the bathwater, he throws Jean back into the ignominy of evading service which Saxon once argued so vehemently against.

What then is the truth of the matter? Were the Baratarians a help or a hindrance, or of no consequence at all? And what of their leaders, the men who spelled their last name differently than any other "Lafitte" in Louisiana? As I said earlier, the truth must be somewhere in the middle.

The Baratarians were most effectual as artillerists, on Battery Number 3 in particular. These twenty-four pound guns, commanded by Dominique Youx and Renato Beluche, were the bane of the British throughout the fighting. Also, most of the sailors aboard Commodore Patterson's Carolina and Louisiana were Baratarians; both ships bombarded British encampments on Chalmette with great success. The brothers themselves, aside from providing men and material, were certainly put to active duty if not directly on the line or aboard ship.

Were the Laffite brothers heroes? That is a loaded question. But were they at the battle with the men they knew and called brothers? Most definitely. Anything more specific than that is open to interpretation...

Header: A 1950s postcard featuring New Orleans' famous "Pirates' Alley" from the author's collection

Sailor Mouth Saturday: Water

There are a million ways to use the word water when one is aboard ship. Not the least of these simply refer to the color or character of the sea around you. Green water, clear water, blue water, choppy water, calm water, angry water; one could go on forever. The specific uses of the word, though, are quite interesting and are the stuff of more than one post. So let’s begin here and come back to the subject at a later date as well, shall we?

To water a ship is to fill her casks with fresh water for drinking. Finishing this task is called completing her water. In more recent history, when tanker ships used sea water as ballast, the act of filling the ship’s tanks for an unladden voyage was also called watering. In this case she was carrying water-ballast, a particular favorite in ships like colliers which would carry coal on the outgoing voyage, unload and water, then drain their tanks upon arriving in their home port and start the whole process over again.

Waterage is a charge for using boats which ferry men, arms and supplies from land out to ships at anchor. A water-bailiff is a port officer who searches vessels for smuggled or other illegal cargo. In New Orleans during the days of the Laffites’ Baratarian and Galveston empires, the city’s chief customs inspector, and therefore head of the “water-bailiffs”, was a man with the unusual name of Beverly Chew.

A water bark is a ship that carries fresh water either between points of land or out to ships at anchor or even at sea. Traditionally they are small, two-decked vessels with a minimum crew which insured plenty of room for the barrels that held the water. A water battery is a range of cannons set virtually at sea level. To again revisit the Laffites’ strongholds, both Grande Terre and Galveston – which are islands only nominally above the level of the Gulf of Mexico – sported water batteries making them difficult for vessels to close in on.

Water-bewitched is a derogatory term used in the Royal Navy to mean tea or, in particular, grog that is comprised more of water than tea or rum. Another term for such is five water grog. Water borne refers to anything, man, beast or goods, that is transported over water including lakes and rivers.

Animals frequently come into play when speaking about water at sea. A water crow is the sailor’s term for the cormorant known as a shag is Britain. A water dog refers to the halo that forms around clouds or distant large objects when it is raining far away from the person looking at is. A water dog is a bad omen denoting certain stormy weather. Water-fleas are small crustaceans scientifically known as Entomostraca which can do damage to the hull of a wooden ship that is uncoppered.

We’ll end here for today as, looking back on it, that seems like quite a lot of etymology for one word. More on water another time. For now, though, enjoy the beautiful DS painting at the header entitled “Ode to the Sea” and done by my extremely talented friend and fellow lover of corvids, Munin. Click over to his sketch blog to see more of his incomparable work.

Cheers, mates! See you tomorrow for Seafaring Sunday.

Booty: Grande Terre In Peril

The Gulf is lined with wooden shipwrecks, American-Indian shell midden mounds [cheniers], World War II casualties, pirate colonies, historic hotels and old fishing villages. Researchers now fear this treasure seeker's dream is threatened by BP PLC's deepwater well blowout.

Thus begins this article from the Associated Press, available online as of July 5th. Though the well has been successfully capped (as of this writing), there is far more damage ahead than behind. And it's not just to the ecosystem and wildlife that make the American Gulf coast so special.

The overarching theme of the distressing article is that the combination of settling oil in the Gulf and cleanup on the shore will either completely destroy or make dangerous to research historical sites from Pensacola to Galveston. Read the article for an outline of some of the interesting pieces of history that are jeopardized. Here are just a few that your humble hostess holds dear:

The Mardi Gras wreck: found in 2002 by oil workers at a depth of 4,000 feet and a little over 30 miles off the coast of Louisiana. The wreck, named for the pipeline where it was found, has been called by researches from Texas A & M University a "gun runner" from the War of 1812. She's a two masted brig of under 150 tons. Only one group of ships was running the British blockades down there during that war. Given these two facts, my guess is she's a Baratarian.

Ship Island off the coast of Mississippi: also known as the "Plymouth Rock of the Gulf", the island welcomed Europeans to the area beginning three hundred years ago and was the only deep draft harbor west of Mobile before a ship arrived at the river. The island was also the Civil War base of Union naval hero Admiral David Farragut.

Grande Terre and Grand Isle Islands, Barataria Bay, LA: archaeologists have only scratched the surface of the sandy ground on Grande Terre. They were beginning to uncover the remains of Jean and Pierre Laffite's famous privateer haven on this and her sister island when Deepwater Horizon exploded. Now, the broken crockery and charred remains of structures may be lost to the very thing that is so urgently needed: cleanup.

The article ends with the comments of John Rawls, a marine archaeologist whose firm, Earth Search, Inc., was involved in the aftermath of the Exxon Valdez spill in Alaska. He points out that cleanup workers, under-trained, underpaid, in a hurry and sometimes looking for a souvenir or a quick buck, disturbed sites in and around Valdez.

He gives the example of the Chugachmiut cave, a prehistoric burial site found by cleanup workers who removed artifacts and bones before calling a supervisor. Local authorities then scooped the remains into trash bags and hauled them off. No one was able to document the site as it was found. To quote Rawls: "The site was pretty much trashed."

Bulldozers, settling oil and ignorance. A lethal combination for a history that is already sorely forgotten. Let us hope that the lessons learned elsewhere are applied on the Gulf. And pray for a break this hurricane season.

Header photograph of pelicans over Barataria Bay by C.C. Lockwood.

Home Ports: Large Ground

There are all kinds of legends of famous pirates hiding treasure in and around their home ports for later use. These always tickle me because the prevailing notion seems to be that pirates were like dogs: just burying the bone for later. In point of fact pirates spent the money they got and that was that. Even in one of the most sophisticated pirate ports ever - a place that was more akin to a small country than a simple stomping ground - there's no cache of buried treasure. The Laffite brothers had better things to do with their coin.

Barataria Bayou is located south of New Orleans on the Gulf of Mexico. Two large islands, Grand Isle (shown above looking out to the Gulf) to the west and Grande Terre to the east form a barrier between the sea and Barataria Bay. There is a narrow pass between the two and only sloops, schooners and brigs with shallow drafts could navigate into the safety of the bay. Barataria is perfectly situated to become a piratical kingdom.

Some time in the early 19th century, probably between 1805 and 1807, Jean Laffite moved to Grande Terre and became bos (which loosely translates as boss in a Sopranos sort of sense) of an already establish pirate haven. His elder brother, Pierre, lived with his growing family in New Orleans. Jean, himself a sailor, saw to the privateering end of the business. Pierre was in charge of sales. By 1809 Pierre and Jean ran one of the largest and most organized smuggling operations ever managed in the United States.

The area, it must be said, was ripe for just such an operation. With the Louisiana Purchase in 1803, the territory and particularly the area around New Orleans went from a sophisticated if under governed Spanish holding to a potential State. The US was quick to impose her laws, and that included tariffs and sanctions against foreign merchandise which then led to an all out effort to curtail the smuggling that was literally ubiquitous to the area. The local Creoles, accustomed to European goods and considering themselves French anyway, turned to the Laffite brothers and their privateers to maintain the status quo with regard to all available goods, including slaves banned from import. The Laffites, of course, readily obliged.

From the base on the flat, breezy island of Grande Terre, Laffite held regular markets of goods plundered from Spanish shipping in the Gulf. Everything from foods, wines, cloth, jewelry, and spices to living purchases like exotic animals and slaves was available and all for a price that would be unimaginable from an American sanctioned merchant in the city. Laffite signed "passports" for those visiting Barataria. He called his kingdom "New France" and referred to Napoleon Bonaparte as his "Uncle", assuring people that Barataria was never intended to be part of the deal with Jefferson. Say what you will about his brand of crazy, Jean Laffite had balls.

For five years the operation on Grande Terre prospered as did the Laffites. Their lieutenants included Renato Beluche, possibly a distant cousin who supplied the Laffites with letters of marque from Cartagena, Dominique Youx, the mysterious privateer who is erroneously tagged as Pierre and Jean's brother, Vincente Gambi, a nasty little man who kept the Laffites in slaves and Louis Chighizola, a jovial if ugly local who appears to have kept things in order when Jean was away. It was good times for a while. The money flowed in and the privateers walked arm in arm down the streets of New Orleans, to the utter dismay of the American merchants.

By 1814 the climate had changed and the War of 1812 brought the hens home to roost. Concerned that the Spanish government would assist Britain due to the continued predations of the Baratarians, President Madison gave the order to raid Barataria. Commodore Daniel Tod Patterson led a flotilla of gunboats with Colonel George Ross at the head of Army troops into Barataria. They took ships as prizes, men as prisoners and torched the settlement on Grande Terre. Though some of the pirates returned after the Battle of New Orleans - won with the Laffite brothers' help despite the raid - Barataria never returned to her glory days as a pirate port.

But what about treasure? Did the Laffites secrete something in the bayous? In fact, they did. The family of Louis Chighizola still lives on Grand Isle as their ancestors did. They will show you his grave on the island, with his wife beside him, and then they will show you the treasure. A golden thimble, made from a Spanish coin specifically for Madame Chighizola on the orders of Jean Laffite. Legend has it that Laffite had the thimble made to keep Louis from spending money intended for his wife. If that isn't a treasure, I don't know what is.