Legends and Lore of the Mississippi Golden Gulf Coast (5 page)

The stories of ghosts, pirates and other legends have haunted Mississippi's Golden Gulf Coast for centuries. Just as there is always someone who can tell a historical story, there will always be someone around like the Biloxian to stretch the truth into a tall tale, thereby creating a legend.

CHAPTER 5

T
HE
L
EGEND OF THE
P
ITCHER
P
OINT
P
IRATES

Any point of land extending into a body of water in geography is known as a cape, headland, spit, peninsula or point. Maps in the 1850s show numerous points along Mississippi's Golden Gulf Coast. From Long Beach to Pass Christian, one finds Bare Point, Goose Point, Point du Pain and Pitcher Point. There are also many colorful legends of pirates. In Long Beach, there is the pirate's legend of how Pitcher Point got its name.

One legend is of John Pitcher, a barbarous pirate who was even disliked by his own corrupt crew. Pitcher and his crew were typical pirates of the early 1800s who preyed on merchant vessels. The point that would carry his name became their pirate's refuge. From their refuge, they would sail into the Mississippi Sound looking for vessels with rich cargos of gold and silver. After each successful raid, they would return to Pitcher Point to bury their treasure chests.

During their time onshore, they became friendly with the Native Americans, and some of the pirates even had female companions. There was some speculation that Pitcher and his men were at one time traders and frontiersmen. After moving to the area near Pitcher Point, they had to adapt to the lifestyle of the area. One of the most important tools would have been boats used for trade. They would have noticed the large volume of trade goods and passengers going from Mobile to New Orleans, as well as other port cities. During hard times, they became pirates and preyed on these easily accessible vessels.

Like most pirate leaders, Captain Pitcher didn't trust his crew, nor did they trust him. One of the descriptions of Pitcher Point as a credible place for pirates comes from the National Works Progress Administration (WPA) in the 1930s. The program created three million jobs for unemployed men. Locally, the WPA hired men to write the history of their own communities. The chapter on Long Beach stated that “numerous points are vistas of the water through the branches of oaks and pines. Few signs of habitation break the scene, and the isolation and forest growths make credible the story that here the pirate Pitcher had his hideout.”

The western section of the beach at Long Beach.
Courtesy of Alan Santa Cruz Collection
.

Supposedly, Pitcher and his crew operated at Pitcher Point in the late 1700s and early 1800s. They were said to be very successful at pirating. Because of Captain Pitcher's distrust of his pirate crew, he built a treehouse in one of the large oaks. Yes, a pirate treehouse.

Of course, all good things must come to an end. While at their Pitcher Point hideaway, Captain Pitcher mistreated the Native American girlfriend of one of his crew members. This was the last straw for the crew, so they waited until Captain Pitcher had gone to sleep in his treehouse and quietly piled bush and wood under the huge oak and lit it. Soon the fire began to climb the tree, awakening Captain Pitcher. He realized there was no escape. As the flames licked at his boots, he cursed his crew and Pitcher Point, where his pirate treasure was buried. When investors tried to develop the property in the 1960s, they dismissed the curse as legend and said that no treasure has ever been found.

While an entertaining legend, there is no evidence of a pirate named Captain John Pitcher, nor has his “lost” treasure ever been found at Pitcher Point.

CHAPTER 6

T
HE
P
IRATES
' C
AVE

Legend of the Pirate House

On the shores of Waveland once sat an unusual house built in the early 1800s. The house supposedly had many secret chambers. One of the most interesting features was its cellar, supposedly built with large cypress timbers and bricks. Before the 1900s, a tunnel extended from the cellar to the beach, below the bluff. The sandy soil of Mississippi's Golden Gulf Coast would make it very difficult to dig a tunnel, but one could dig a deep trench using shoring techniques. First, one would have to shore up the sides with timbers. Then the trench could have been capped with, in this case, a brick arch and covered with soil.

Of course, this raises the question of why one would need a tunnel from the beach to the house. With no historical documents stating its purpose, we have only the legends and rumors. Smugglers, pirates and privateers will come to most people's imaginations, and so legends are born.

In 1939, during the Mississippi Gulf Coast Spring Pilgrimage of historic homes and gardens, it was reported, “Jean Lafitte's pirate band will turn host at the Pirate House in Waveland.” One of the places of interest on the tour would be “the secret passage [tunnel] from the house to the edge of Bay St. Louis.” The house was owned by Mrs. Edmund H. Singreen of New Orleans and Waveland, who reportedly purchased it in 1929. In 1940, the
Times-Picayune
reported that she would be hosting the pilgrimage breakfast at the Pirate House. According to the newspaper, the home was reportedly built in 1802 by a friend of Jean Lafitte.

Mrs. Singreen eventually sold the home to William Thomas and Leonie Naudon Quinn of New Orleans. In 1947, Mrs. Quinn described the home as constructed of cypress, with the exception of the pine floors. The structure had a slate roof and was sitting on brick piers. The first floor of the home had high ceilings in each room. The rooms had great paneled doors that opened into a spacious hall. The original structure had an outside stairway that by 1947 was incorporated into the interior. The second floor had sloping ceilings with dormer-windowed rooms.

The Pirate House at Waveland before 1969.
Courtesy of the Maritime & Seafood Industry Museum
.

The legend of the Pirate House has many stories associated with it. One of the stories indicates that the plantation was the home of Jean Lafitte, the legendary pirate. Lafitte was considered by many to be the overlord of all 1800s pirates using the Gulf of Mexico. In another version of the legend, the plantation owner was simply an associate of pirates.

While most of the written accounts of the legends appear in the 1900s, the
New Orleans Times-Picayune
recorded the earliest account in 1891. An article titled “The Pirates Cave: A Story of Bay St. Louis” was written by Reverend Nelson Ayres, an Episcopalian minister who was very popular along Mississippi's Golden Gulf Coast. At one time, he had a residence in Waveland, and his story of the Pirates Cave was most likely fueled by stories that were told and retold by visitors and locals.

Thomas Nelson Ayres was born in 1841 in Sing Sing, New York. In 1873, he was ordained an Episcopalian minister, and the next day, he married Maratha Demay Morrison of Holmes County, Mississippi. The newlyweds were sent to Bryant, Texas, where his ministry would begin. After eight years, they were reassigned to Baltimore, Maryland. The Ayreses had five children. Due to Mrs. Ayres's failing health, they headed south to Mississippi's Golden Gulf Coast. He was assigned to the missionary churches in Ocean Springs, Mississippi City, Bay St. Louis and Waveland.

In the mid-1890s, they had a residence in Waveland and New Orleans. In 1894, double tragedies struck the Ayres family. On July 13, Mrs. Ayres died at their Waveland residence, and in late 1894, their son Nelson passed away. After the death of his wife, Reverend Ayres permanently moved the family to New Orleans. He continued to write various articles for the
Times-Picayune
. Some of the titles included “The Autobiography of a Gun,” “The Foreshadow” and “Saved by a Hurricane.” He also wrote “In Lilliput Land,” a series of children's articles for the
Times-Picayune
. The biggest change in his life came on December 21, 1896, when he was ordained a Catholic priest.

For a good, effective legend, the person relating the story should be believable. The Reverend Ayres was a most respected minister from New Orleans to Mobile, and his ability to weave a tale shone in “The Pirate Cave.”

This tale begins with Reverend Ayres and a person identified only as “my companion” riding alone in a train's passenger car. His companion took a draw from his Havana cigar and blew “a great cloud of smoke from his mouth and nostrils.” The companion stated, “No, I am not as old as I look.” Here Reverend Ayres reflected that he looked old and at the same time young.

His hair, his eyebrows, the delicate moustache that curled youthful around the corners of his mouth, even his eye lashes were as white as snow, while around his eyes and on his brow were graven heavy lines as if made by the chisel of time; but his cheeks were round, and flushed with ruddy health, and his figure showed lithe and muscular through his well-fitting suit
.

Ayres's companion stated that he was scarcely forty. Their casual conversation began to turn dark and interesting, and Ayres reported his companion as stating, “‘Sometimes a man turns gray in one day,' he replied, communicatively, turning his sharp black eyes full upon me.” Reverend Ayres stated that he had heard of such cases, and his companion said, “Well, I am one,” as the deserted passenger car clanked along the rails.

Ayres's companion began his story: “I hardly ever speak about it, I never think about it when I can help myself, but I feel strongly reminded of it tonight.” Turning toward the rain-drenched window, trying to peek into the driving rain mixed with howling gust of wind and the blackness of the midnight hour, Ayres's companion said, “It was such another night as this, and just such a spirit ridden gale.”

Reverend Ayres looked nervously at the window before leaning toward his companion. Ayres's companion said that it was ten years ago that he was at Bay St. Louis in Mississippi on a visit to research old grants. He remarked that some of the earliest settlements in the United States were on the Mississippi Gulf Coast. He was “sauntering and smoking” along the shoreline when he arrived at the site of an old crumbling brick wall that was protruding from the bluff.

The banks of the bluff were thirteen to fifteen feet high. The embankment appears normal except for a wall protruding from it that appeared to be at least ten feet deep in the bluff. On the other side of the shell road stood a large, old-fashioned rambling mansion sitting on neglected property. Here Ayres's companion contemplated how the wall was built underground and so near the Mississippi Sound's waters.

As he contemplated, an elderly black man stopped on the road and peered over the bank. Ayres's companion asked the black man who owned the mansion and about the origins of the wall. With a half-frightened look, he replied, “The Frelsen Place” and said that the wall was actually a cave. Ayres's companion did not see the opening, but the black man pointed to “a small brick arched opening” that was somewhat blocked with broken brick and sand. Ayres's companion then asked, “Well, what's in there?” But the black man's lips went silent until a quarter was offered to him. The black man then told a “long rambling story of Spanish pirates and horrible murders, and hidden spirit quarter treasures.” He continued that no one could live in the house because of a groaning ghost and said that no one had been able to crawl up the cave. Ayres's companion then continued his stroll but, with every step, thought of the black man's story and how he appeared to believe it in his heart and soul.

Finally, Ayres's companion stopped and pondered, “There seemed to be a certain verisimilitude in a tale of pirates and hidden treasure; as I stood on this lonely shore and looked out over the Spanish Main.” Here his curiosity began to get the best of Ayres's companion. Being young with a love of adventure, as well as poor and foolish, the tale soon seized him psychologically.

The midnight hour found Ayres's companion standing at the opening with two revolvers, a knife and a lantern. He began his quest for the pirates' treasure as he entered the brick arched tunnel. Working his way through the debris at the entrance, he had to crawl on his hands and knees until he arrived at a pit four or five feet deep. After lowering himself into the pit, he continued on a wet, slimy dirt floor. As he continued, he realized that the tunnel had recently been full of water. He believed he heard a gurgling water sound and pondered the fact that he could drown in this tunnel. The tunnel continued on an upward slope before moving gradually downward. At this point, he encountered a flooded section of tunnel and contemplated a retreat to return later with a pump.