I haven't seen the inside of the box of this kit for many years, and what I know about French naval history would fit in a good-sized thimble. I do know that the first time I saw (and the only time I bought) the kit it was in a box labeled La Flore. In shape and overall appearance it certainly seems to match what I can see in the ads of the Musee de la Marine plans for that vessel - and those plans are generally accepted as being fairly reliable (though not of course contemporary with the ship). It's entirely possible that the kit was sold under the name Vestal (or Vestale) as well, though I've never seen it in a box with that name on it.
I think the model in the JFK Library, the set of plans from the Musee de la Marine, and the Lindberg kit all represent the same vessel - real or speculative. But if the ship did exist I'm pretty sure it wasn't the one that served in the British navy under the name Flora during the American Revolution. The construction date of the JFK/MM/Lindberg La Flore is, so far as I can tell 1784 - seven years after H.M.S. Flora's famous action with the Continental frigates Boston and Hancock. And it certainly doesn't look like a ship built much earlier than that. (H.M.S. Unicorn, which allegedly captured this ship in 1761, is generally regarded as one of the first true British frigates.) Some years ago I built a model of the Hancock, and did quite a bit of digging about that action. I don't recall any mention of the Flora having been a French prize, but I could be mistaken about that. When I get home this evening I'll see what I can find out about her.
La Flore apparently was a popular name in the French navy. As a matter of fact, I think I recall reading an article quite a few years ago about the several 18th-century warships of that name, and how historians were constantly getting them mixed up. I'll see if I can find that one too. On the basis of the earlier posts in this thread I'm getting suspicious as to whether any of these "Flores" we've been discussing represents a real ship. Jean Boudriot ceertainly deserves to be taken seriously; there's no finer authority on the French navy of the sailing ship period.
We need to be careful about the use of the words "pirate" and "privateer." As the centuries rolled by the words acquired substantially different meanings - mainly due to the refinement of international law and diplomatic traditions. By the time we're discussing here (the late eighteenth century) a pirate and a privateer were extremely different people.
It's certainly true that in the days of Sir John Hawkins and Sir Francis Drake, the distinction between a privateer and a pirate was pretty blurry. Hawkins, Drake, and company were sailing around capturing and destroying Spanish-owned vessels and claiming lands in the name of Queen Elizabeth I, who was highly selective in stating whether she approved of such activities or not. When Drake made his voyage around the world there was, so far as I know, no formal declaration of war between England and Spain. The Spanish undoubtedly regarded Drake as a pirate. But he most emphatically regarded Spain as a nation with which England was at war - and of all the accusations that have been made against Drake (quite a few of them) I can't recall any implications that he was in the habit of taking English ships. And if his government hadn't actually gone through the formality of declaring that a state of war existed, there's no doubt whatever that numerous government officials, including the queen herself, had invested money in Drake's venture. If you call Drake either a privateer or a pirate, though, few will be in a position to give you much of an argument.
By the eighteenth century, though, international law and diplomatic custom had solidified to the point that there was a clear distinction between the two professions. A privateer operated under the terms of a "letter of marque and reprisal" - an official document that gave him his government's permission to capture or destroy ships that were flying the flag of a nation with which his nation was at war. Privateering was a perfectly legal way to wage war and make money. (What a privateer captured, he kept - or sold at auction.) In those days the military/civilian dichotomy was considerably less precise - and perceived to be less important - than it is today. Able-bodied male civilians on land were expected to be members of the militia, and to fight against their nation's enemies when need arose. And the owners and captains of merchant ships were actively encouraged by their governments to "go privateering." Whenever word reached the American colonies that England had declared war on Spain or France, colonial sea captains and businessmen rushed to the judges' offices to get letters of marque. Privateering was a perfectly respectable business (though I'm sure some decidedly non-respectable people participated in it as well). If a privateer got captured by the enemy, he expected to be treated as a prisoner of war - as a captured militiaman would be. One of the big steps on the road to the creation of the United States came when, in the spring of 1776, the Continental Congress voted to start issuing letters of marque, so American sea captains could go privateering against the British. That was seen as a definitive declaration that the colonies now regarded themselves as an independent nation.
A pirate was a criminal. He didn't have any government's permission to do what he did - which generally was to seize any merchant ship he could find, irrespective of what flag it flew. Government officials occasionally collaborated with pirates (e.g., the governor of the colony of North Carolina and his friend Edward Teach, aka Blackbeard), but such officials thereby became crooks and felons themselves; piracy was not a legally-sanctioned activity. If a pirate got captured ("arrested" would be a better term) - by anybody, from any nation - he could expect to be put on trial and hanged.
One thing the two professions had in common: participants in them operated by sharing the proceeds. A privateer generally hired his crew, and paid the men out of the proceeds when his prizes were sold at auction. A pirate did much the same thing - illegally. Both of them were able to function, financially speaking, only for as long as they continued taking prizes.
I've never really been bitten by the piracy bug, but on the basis of what I have read I think it would be extremely unusual to find a ship as big as the ones represented by those Lindberg kits involved in piracy. A frigate like La Flore would need a crew of at least 200 men. Even if a pirate captain somehow managed to acquire such an expensive vessel without paying for it, the maintenance expenses would be staggering. He'd have to capture a vast number of extremely valuable prizes on a regular basis just to maintain the ship and pay those 200 men enough to make the enterprise worth their while. In modern terms, that would be the equivalent of somebody stealing a Perry-class frigate and using it to conduct criminal activities at his own expense. Not impossible, I suppose, but highly unlikely. And the notion of a ship-of-the-line, like the Wappen von Hamburg, serving as a pirate ship is, I'm afraid, pretty ridiculous.
The typical pirate ship from the "golden age of piracy" (the late 17th and early 18th centuries) was much smaller. It was fast (so it could catch merchantmen and run away from warships), and could be handled by a relatively small crew - a group small enough that the captain could afford to pay them.
The pirate of the "golden age" - the "shiver-me-timbers," "Long John Silver," "jolly roger" type - is largely a creation of fiction. To the extent that such people did exist, they regarded themselves as businessmen; the bottom line in piracy was money. But, during that period in history at any rate, a pirate most definitely was not a privateer.