rt. In speaking of his
acquaintance with this female, he says, 'I fell in with a woman who I
thought was all virtue, but she deceived me, and I am sorry to say that
a heart that never felt abashed at scenes of carnage and blood, was
made a child of for a time by her, and I gave way to dissipation to
drown the torment. How often when the fumes of liquor have subsided
have I thought of my good and affectionate parents, and of their
Godlike advice! My friends advised me to behave myself like a man, and
promised me their assistance, but the demon still haunted me, and I
spurned their advice.'"[1]

After the adventure with the deceitful female, Gibbs was not as
successful as formerly in his profession of piracy, and appears to have
lost his grip. For several years he knocked about the Seven Seas, in
one sort of shady escapade or another, but he flung away whatever gold
he harvested and was driven to commit the sordid crime which brought
him to the gallows. In November of 1830, he shipped as a seaman in the
brig _Vineyard_, Captain William Thornby, from New Orleans to
Philadelphia with a cargo of cotton and molasses, and $54,000 in
specie. Learning of the money on board, Gibbs cooked up a conspiracy
to kill the captain and the mate and persuaded Thomas Wansley, the
steward, to help him put them out of the way. According to the
testimony, others of the crew were implicated, but the court convicted
only these two. The sworn statement of Seaman Robert Dawes is as
red-handed a treasure story as could be imagined:

"When about five days out, I was told that there was money on board.
Charles Gibbs, E. Church, and the steward then determined to take
possession of the brig. They asked James Talbot, another member of the
crew, to join them. He said no, as he did not believe there was money
in the vessel. They concluded to kill the captain and mate, and if
Talbot and John Brownrigg would not join them, to kill them also. The
next night they talked of doing it, and got their clubs ready. I dared
not say a word, as they declared they would kill me if I did. As they
did not agree about killing Talbot and Brownrigg, their two shipmates,
it was put off. They next concluded to kill the captain and mate on
the night of November 22nd but did not get ready; but on the night of
the 23rd, between twelve and one o 'clock, when I was at the helm, the
steward came up with a light and a knife in his hand. He dropped the
light and se