Life and bloody career of the executed criminal, James Copeland, the great Southern land piratePitts, J. R. S. (James Robert Soda)
History
Life and bloody career of the executed criminal, James Copeland, the great Southern land pirate
Pitts, J. R. S. (James Robert Soda)
Copeland, James, 1823-1857; Criminals -- Gulf States -- Biography
On the morning of the commencement of the meeting, we set our two free
darkies over the river, and they went to the place early in the day.
Wages and I cleared out our skiff of all barrels, boxes and dunnage
of every description, and had everything in complete trim, row locks,
oars and all ready. The meeting commenced. We had instructed our free
darkies to what landing place to conduct these seven negroes we were
stealing; and on the first night of the meeting, sure enough they all
came to us. Their master had furnished them with two mules and a wagon,
to haul their bedding, etc., to the camp ground, and they had brought
all their clothing, bedding, and everything they had. They informed us
that they had sold all their poultry and crop, and had got money to
support them for the year. They had procured another negro to drive the
mules and wagon back to the camp ground; and by nine o’clock that night
we were under way down stream.
WELTER AND HARDEN’S DECEPTION—WELTER ACTING AS UNITED STATES MARSHAL.
We rigged all six of the oars; one of the women pulled one oar and I
pulled one; Wages sometimes spelled me, and I would steer the boat,
and the women would sometimes spell each other, and we run at the rate
of about ten miles an hour. About eleven o’clock that night we passed
Shreveport, and before day sometime, we passed Natchitoches, the point
we were striving to make, for we knew there was a bayou about five
miles below, where we could hide ourselves and skiff through the day.
We put into the bayou a little before day, and at daylight we landed
our skiff in some bushes and high grass, and we all went on shore in
a thick palmetto swamp, built a good fire, cooked and eat, and drank
good whiskey and every one slept what they wanted; and about sunset
we left and rowed into the river again. By this time they all had got
themselves more accustomed to rowing, and made better headway and with
more ease. We run on in the night and lay-by in the day; and the third
night we reached the mouth of Red River and lay in the swamp that day;
and the fourth night, about midnight, we reached Tunica, and run our
skiff in a creek just above; made a fire in the swamp and remained till
daylight. After daylight sometime, we eat breakfast and Wages and I
made an excuse to go to the village of Tunica to buy some cigars, and
to get some eggs, etc. The negroes set us over with the skiff; we went
down to the village and went to the tavern. There we found our old
friend, Welter, and Harden, and three other men whom Welter introduced
us to as his friends and acquaintances, but they were in fact his
“strikers.” Harden immediately after we left him at Shreveport had gone
down the river to Welter’s and informed him where to meet us.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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