The pirates of the New England coast, 1630-1730

In Short

This historical survey reconstructs the era when colonial New England was plagued by seafaring freebooters. By mining original court records, trial depositions, and period newspapers, the authors map the transition of desperate, unemployed sailors into marauding pirates following the European wars of the seventeenth and early eighteenth centuries. Rather than relying on romanticized folklore, the narrative provides a grounding in the administrative and legal reality of the time. It highlights how colonial merchants and officials often held a complex, sometimes complicit, relationship with the illicit wealth entering their ports. It remains a definitive reference for those seeking the archival truth behind the legendary figures who once haunted the Atlantic.

The Story

The narrative arc begins in the early days of colonial settlement, when the distinction between an authorized privateer and an outright pirate was often thin. As European powers fought over the New World, colonial governors frequently issued commissions to private vessels to strike at enemy shipping. However, once peace treaties like those at Ryswick or Utrecht were signed, these armed sailors suddenly found themselves without employment or oversight. The transition to piracy was often a matter of economic survival for the needy seaman. The authors describe a period of unchecked expansion where ports like Newport, Boston, and Philadelphia became hubs for goods and men returning from the Red Sea, Madagascar, and the West Indies.

The central conflict involves the state’s inability to distinguish between trade and plunder. The text provides numerous examples of magistrates and grand juries who, because they were neighbors or friends to the accused, refused to indict men known to be pirates. Merchants like Andrew Belcher of Boston were not above trading money and provisions for stolen hides or ivory. This permissive atmosphere allowed figures like Thomas Tew to fit out sloops in plain sight, openly discussing their plans to raid the mogul’s ships and return with massive dividends. The narrative follows these men as they establish bases in the Bahamas or Madagascar, creating a cycle of violence that disrupted merchant shipping and terrified local communities.

As the authorities eventually tightened their grip, the arc shifts toward the inevitable crackdown. The book tracks the rise of notorious figures such as Samuel Bellamy, whose ship famously wrecked on Cape Cod, and the brutal, short-lived terror of Ned Low. The later chapters detail the systematic pursuit of these men by the Royal Navy and colonial courts. We witness the shift from a time of relative tolerance to one of hangings in chains at landmarks like Nix’s Mate. The story concludes with the personal accounts of men like Philip Ashton, who spent years marooned on an island after escaping his pirate captors, and the procedural grimness of final executions. Through official bills of expense, the authors show the final bureaucratic resolution to a century of disorder: the costs for cordage, executioners, and the construction of gibbets.

How It Unfolds

The transition of the privateers The narrative establishes how post-war unemployment forced commissioned sailors to continue their plunder without legal standing. This shift from state-sanctioned warfare to private greed is framed as a logical, if illicit, progression for the needy seaman.

The complicity of the ports Detailed accounts show how colonial merchants and officials provided refuge and supplies for pirate vessels in exchange for a share of the profits. The authors use specific court files to prove that piracy was often an open secret within the social circles of Newport and Boston.

The rise of the pirate captains The focus narrows to the careers of men like Thomas Tew and Samuel Bellamy, who operated with chilling freedom. Their ability to gather crews and evade capture is presented through the lens of contemporary travelogues and official complaints from colonial governors.

The closing of the net The final movement covers the intensifying efforts of the British government and the Massachusetts Bay authorities to suppress the scourge. The narrative utilizes trial transcripts to show how the law eventually caught up with survivors and subordinates through interrogations and public hangings.

The People

Governor Bellomont emerges as a central figure, struggling to reconcile his duty to suppress piracy with the reality that his own reputation and personal finances were entangled in the ventures of men like Captain William Kidd. Kidd himself is portrayed as a man caught in a web of shifting political loyalties, sent out under royal commission only to be branded a proscribed pirate upon his return to Boston.

Thomas Tew represents the audacity of the era’s successful sea-robbers. He makes no attempt to hide his intentions, utilizing his wealth to buy protection from governors like Benjamin Fletcher. His life illustrates the ease with which a man could be both a respected, wealthy ship owner and a wanted criminal, depending on which shore he docked at.

Ned Low stands in stark contrast as a symbol of pure brutality. His career is marked by senseless violence and the deliberate terrorizing of shipmasters along the New England coast. His interactions with Philip Ashton provide a humanizing, albeit harrowing, perspective on the life of an unwilling captive. Ashton, the "local Robinson Crusoe," serves as the survivor of the narrative. His eventual escape and return to Marblehead provide the only sense of closure in the story, as he is celebrated as a man who lived to tell the tale of his long isolation on a deserted island after fleeing Low’s crew.

In Its Own Voice

"The Privateering Stroke so easily degenerates into the Piratical; and the Privateering Trade is usually carried on with an Unchristian Temper, and proves an Inlet unto so much Debauchery and Iniquity."

Cotton Mather, preaching in 1704, captures the moral and social friction that defined the colonial attitude toward the blurred line between legal privateers and criminal pirates.

"The ill-defined connection between privateering and piracy was fully recognized in those days and characterized publicly by the clergy."

The authors provide this assessment to underscore the systemic nature of the problem, noting that the ambiguity was not merely a legal oversight but a recognized societal condition.

What It's Really About

This book is a study of the fragility of order in a nascent, isolated society. It argues that piracy was not an external threat but an internal byproduct of colonial economic development and geopolitical instability. The primary question the authors explore is how a community balances its need for the resources provided by illicit trade against the requirement for law and safety. The text shows that piracy in New England flourished because, for a long time, it was profitable, tolerated, and intimately tied to the merchant class. It is a portrait of a society learning the hard way that it cannot maintain a double standard between the private gains of local merchants and the public peace of the open sea.

Why Read It Today

Readers who appreciate a methodical, evidence-based approach to history will find this volume invaluable. It avoids the swashbuckling tropes of fiction in favor of the granular detail found in colonial archives. To read it is to step into a courtroom, a tavern, or a ship’s cabin in 1720, listening to the dry, precise language of depositions and official records. You will find no grand, sweeping narration; instead, you get the raw materials of history, presented with the care of a curator.

The text does not shy away from the harsh realities of the period—the brutality of the punishments, the systemic cruelty of the slave trade, and the grim bureaucratic efficiency of hanging men in chains. Some readers may find the lengthy lists of names, dates, and archival citations challenging, as the book is structured more like a scholarly report than a novel. However, for those who value authenticity, there is a profound satisfaction in seeing the "traditionary lore" stripped away to reveal the actual, often mundane, mechanics of colonial crime and punishment. It is a sobering look at how ordinary, desperate men—and the officials who enabled them—shaped the lawless beginnings of the Atlantic world. What stays with the reader is the chilling, matter-of-fact tone used to document human life, death, and greed in an age when the horizon offered both immense opportunity and certain ruin.