A Short History of Lady Pirates

A Short History of Lady Pirates - The new Pirates of the Caribbean movie, On Stranger Tides, opens this Friday. In the film, the fourth in the franchise, Penélope Cruz will match sabers with Johnny Depp as Angelica, strong-willed daughter of the legendary Blackbeard. The news raised eyebrows: a lady pirate? Rare it was, we thought, to encounter a woman in the briny annals of maritime villainy.

But as we scoffed, a strange schooner glided silently up Connecticut Avenue to the Slate office, cannons lowered. There was a flash—we suddenly found at our feet a sea-stained package, wrapped in twine and inked with letters from an unknown hand: Seafaring Women: Adventures of Pirate Queens, Female Stowaways, and Sailors' Wives, by David Cordingly, published by Random House in 2001.

Cordingly served for twelve years as Head of Exhibitions at the National Maritime Museum in Greenwich, England. (He also has a new book out this week: Pirate Hunter of the Caribbean, on the 18^th-century sea captain Woodes Rogers.) From his earlier book, we learn that women rarely dared the cramped conditions and physical hardship of life at sea. Sailors superstitiously considered the fairer sex unlucky, and pirates especially dreaded the discord and jealousy they believed would run in the wake of female companionship. But a few undaunted women bucked the trend, following their lovers or their fortunes into the deep. Cordingly's tome in hand, here's our list of the most dastardly lady marauders ever to brave the tides.

Cheng I Sao

The pirate queen known only as Cheng I Sao, or "wife of Cheng," started out as a prostitute in Canton. In 1801, she married the raider Cheng I, who was organizing a confederation of sea brigands to prey on fishing and cargo boats around the Southern edge of China. When Cheng died in 1807, Mrs. Cheng seized her chance and took full control of the operation. Eventually, she governed more than 50,000 pirates. She was notorious for her ruthless sentencing: Looters that disobeyed orders were summarily beheaded, and first-time deserters lost their ears. Mrs. Cheng also entered into a politic fling with a promising young lieutenant, Chang Pao, after appointing him captain of the Red Flag Fleet, her most powerful squadron. Trouble arrived when the Chinese government sought protection against the pirates from the British and Portuguese navy. To avoid an epic battle, Mrs. Cheng brought 17 women and children with her to the Governor-General's house and asked for pardon. She got it, along with permission to keep the wealth she'd acquired through plundering. Then, clearly craving respectability, she retired to open a gambling house in Canton.

Grace O'Malley

Growing up in 16^th-century Ireland, Grace O'Malley earned the nickname Granuaille ("bald") because she cut her hair short like a boy's. She was the daughter of an Irish chieftain and took to the seas early—her family owned an argosy of ships that they used in occasional raids on neighboring clans. Grace eventually inherited her father's fleet and began attacking merchant vessels; in the 1570s, she became such a menace that Governor Edward Fitton of Connaught launched an expedition against her. (She repelled his navy in 1574, but was captured and briefly imprisoned three years later.) Grace is perhaps most famous for sending a late-in-life letter to the Queen of England, in which she defended her marauding lifestyle and asked for "some reasonable maintenance for the little time" she had left on earth. In September 1593, she actually sailed to London and met the Queen in her Greenwich palace. Five days later, the governor of Connaught received a royal directive to arrange for O'Malley's maintenance. (Perhaps the Queen was charmed by the notion of the graying pirate "invad[ing] with fire and sword all your highness's enemies"—another memorable line from the letter.)

Anne Bonny and Mary Read

In the early 18^th century, the piratesses Anne Bonny and Mary Read sailed under a two-bit rogue called Calico Jack (after his motley garb).

Mary was born out of wedlock to an English woman, whose husband had disappeared at sea. When her legitimate son died, Mary's mother disguised the girl as her brother so that she could fleece her mother-in-law for money. Mary took a shine to the life masculine and, in drag, joined the crew of a merchant ship—but en route to the West Indies, her vessel was overtaken by English raiders and she was forced to become a pirate. Still disguised as a man, Mary enlisted under Calico Jack in 1720 and caught the eye of the only other woman on deck—Jack's paramour, Anne Bonny.

Anne, too, had been raised as a boy, in Cork, Ireland. Her philandering father wanted to keep his beloved bastard daughter at home without disgracing his name, so he told neighbors he had taken in a young "gentleman" to train as a lawyer's clerk. When Anne and Mary sailed together onboard the William, only Jack knew that Anne was a woman, and neither had a clue about Mary. But Mary had to come clean after Anne attempted to seduce her in private. (The two ladies notified Jack later, sensing his jealousy for the handsome new sailor.)

Over one brief year, Jack's crew looted more than twelve vessels around Jamaica and the Bahamas before a pirate hunter named Jonathan Barnet closed in on them. Reportedly, the entire band surrendered quietly—except for Mary and Anne. Brandishing cutlasses and pistols, they shouted, swore, and tried unsuccessfully to rally the others. In 1721, they were sentenced to hang in Kingston. But a last-minute medical examination brought the women unexpected reprieve: The executions were called off when it was discovered that both Anne and Mary were pregnant. Having "pleaded the belly," Mary languished in prison for several months before dying of fever. Anne, thought to be carrying Jack's child, is more of a mystery. She vanished from the historical record soon after her trial—Cordingly speculates that her well-connected father spirited her away to live as a homemaker in Charlestown, South Carolina.

If Angelica is anything like these true-to-life hellcats, Captain Jack Sparrow should be thrilled to have her aboard. A word to the wise, though, Jack: If you borrow her eyeliner, ask first. ( slate.com )