The original name of Charlotte Amalie, the capital of the U.S. Virgin Islands, was Rumshop and for a very good reason. When some buccaneer captain consulted his trusty charts, there would be names like Water Island, where he knew he could get water. So Rumshop wasn’t so much a name but a designation, here there be rum. This would have been before 1666 when Charlotte Amalie would have been populated by a lawless creed who didn’t need or heed laws. Sort of like Donald Trump with a black eye patch and a red bandana hat.
The Danes took possession of St. Thomas in 1666. St. Thomas journalist and historian J. Antonio Jarvis said that the Indian population had vacated the island, but the legend of the last Indian contradicts that assertion. St. Thomas was originally occupied by the Arawak of Taino stock, though no one knows exactly where they came from. Except for the occasional hurricane, they lived on this small island in peace for over 1500 years. Imagine a culture that never knew war. Then around 1500 the Caribs came up from the Lesser Antilles and probably chased these peace-loving Arawaks to Borinquen (Puerto Rico).
The legend goes the last Carib died off Picara Point at the end of Magens Bay. He jumped in the water there where the sea channeled up a rocky fiord and where the highest waves would beat the drum which echoed across the bay and up to the top of St. Peter Mountain.
In J. Antonio Jarvis’ rendition, “…without heeding the men behind him or the numerous avenues of escape on the land side, the lonely savage plunged into the water. By the time the Danes reached the rocks to look down, lean sharks were already fighting and moving out to sea.”
There would have been more than one rum shop in Rumshop prior to King Christian’s arriving, but the most famous story of a rumshop on St. Thomas actually happened in Frenchtown, which is on Charlotte Amalie Harbor but a separate locale with different traditions and people than the town itself.
The story goes, one rumshop was so notorious, that the Frenchtown citizens, themselves not exactly straight, on one particularly riotous evening, nailed the doors and windows shut then set the place on fire. You remember the song, ‘There’ll Be a Hot-time in the Old Town Tonight’? Well, just change ‘Old’ to ‘French’ and you’ve got it, if not exactly a hit.
The most famous piratical incident which happened in Charlotte Amalie Harbor also involved fire. It was the burning of the pirate ship La Trompeuse. Originally a merchant ship La Trompeuse was captured by Captain Jean Hamlin in 1682 and refitted on St. Thomas as a pirate ship. The following year it sailed off towards Africa and before returning had captured 17 Dutch and English sloops.
This did not sit well with the rulers of the sea at the time and England sent the good ship HMS Francis, Captain Charles Carlile in charge, to St. Thomas to sink La Trompeuse. But as the Francis entered the harbor it drew cannon fire from Fort Christian and retreated. After negotiating via letter, Captain Charlie soon released that Danish Governor Adolph Esmit was not only sheltering but supporting the pirate Hamlin and his crew.
The official government report which came out later tells just how close Governor Esmit was with Jean Hamlin. “He has eaten and banqueted with Esmit and has slept with Esmit in a room. He has brought much gold. Esmit would not deliver Hamlin to the English.” Meaning the pirate paid the governor for sheltering him, with apparently such loving care.
When Carlile made his report, the English governor of the region demanded Esmit release Hamlin and crew, but Esmit called his bluff. Being Danish, St. Thomas was an open port, allowing ships from all countries to stop and trade, Also Denmark and England were on friendly terms making Stapleton’s bluff that much easier to call. Consequently, English Governor Stapleton did not attack St. Thomas.
When Captain Carlile learned that Governor Esmit had actually fired the cannon at HMS Francis, he decided he’d have to act quickly. So on the night of July 31, 1683 he sent his men to board and burn La Trompeuse which was in the harbor and easily visible from the governor’s perch in the fort tower.”After making sure La Trompeuse was burnt beyond salvation, Carlile sailed away,” wrote Harold L.W. Willocks in his USVI history book The Umbilical Cord.
And then there was Captain Kidd’s misadventures on St. Thomas. As Ben Johnson wrote for Historic UK, “Captain Kidd can be said to be the most unfortunate pirate ever to sail the high seas! For it was his bad luck to sail as a privateer/pirate just when the rules changed and the privateer/pirate became an outlaw.”
A pirate and a privateer did essentially the same thing, but a privateer carried the royal sanction. Unfortunately for Captain Kidd and probably a bunch of other British privateers on the far flung seas, news didn’t travel fast in those days. One day you’re legal, next day you’re not. Willocks wrote, ”England had outlawed Captain Kidd and many islands fearing British retribution did not allow him into their harbors.”
That confusion of rolls between a privateer and a pirate was what ultimately kept Captain Kidd out of Charlotte Amalie Harbor. Danish West Indies Governor Johan Lorentz, who saw piracy as damaging to the local economy, reported, “6th April this year at the harbour arrived a ship, showing an English flag, anchoring outside the harbor and giving no salute. Captain Kidd which Lorentz spells ‘Cidd’ sent him a letter by small boat to which Lorentz replied, “I therefore sent my written parole indicating that, if he is an honest man and can prove nothing unlawful to have done, he can come in freely.”
He adds, “…which answer he was not satisfied.”
Instead Captain Kidd asked the governor to protect him from English ships that were following him. Suddenly, Lorentz smelled a rat.
In Kidd’s final bid to gain the clemency of Charlotte Amalie Harbor he asked that he might have Lorentz’s protection for a barge he would sail to New England where he felt he could prove he was not a pirate. This was also refused and Lorentz told him not to try again. After this the end was near.
As Willocks wrote, “After Captain Kidd left St. Thomas he sailed to Hispaniola where he bought a smaller ship. He left Hispaniola for New York, where he was captured, tried and hung by the English.” Which proves even back then, you can lose your head on the mean streets of New York.
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