Blackbeard- The Birth of America

by Samuel Marquis

  THACHE’S PIRATICAL CONSORTS AND ACQUAINTANCES

  Captain Stede Bonnet: Wealthy Barbadian planter-turned-pirate; former major in the Barbados militia and father of three children; called the “Gentleman Pirate”; sailed with Blackbeard on board or in consort from September 2017 to June 1718.

  Captain Benjamin Hornigold: Bermudan-Bahamian pirate who sailed in consort with Thache on at least four occasions between 1716-1718; elder leader of Nassau’s Republic of Pirates, the “Flying Gang.”

  Captain Sam Bellamy: Former common British Navy seaman who rose to pirate captain of former slave ship Whydah; friend of Thache’s and admired by him for his anti-elite, Jacobite, egalitarian political philosophy; nicknamed “Black” Sam.

  Captain Charles Vane: Truculent English pirate captain and member of the Flying Gang; friend of Edward Thache; torturer of captured prisoners.

  Captain Paulsgrave Williams: Middle-aged silversmith from a wealthy Rhode Island family who turned into pirate sea captain, working in consort with Bellamy and French corsair Oliver La Buse; friend and piratical cohort of Edward Thache.

  Captain Henry Jennings: Wealthy, bombastic Jamaican privateer and later pirate from Bermuda; commissioned by Governor Hamilton of Jamaica in November 1715 to plunder Spanish wrecks off Sebastian Inlet, Florida; enemy of Hornigold.

  Ishmael Hanks (fictional): Quartermaster with Stede Bonnet to June 1718.

  Ignatius Pell: Bosun with Bonnet; likely acquitted and released in November 1718 for testifying against Bonnet’s crew.

  Robert Tucker: Jamaican merchant seaman who voluntarily joined Bonnet’s crew after capture by Queen Anne’s Revenge; quartermaster with Bonnet from June through September 1718.

  ROYAL AND PROPRIETARY COLONY GOVERNMENT OFFICIALS AND CITIZENS

  Alexander Spotswood: Lieutenant Governor of Royal Colony of Virginia; fervently loyal to British Crown; took aggressive stance against colonial piracy.

  Charles Eden: British Governor of impoverished Proprietary Colony of North Carolina; acquaintance of Edward Thache; target of Spotswood and Moseley.

  Tobias Knight: North Carolina Council Secretary, Collector of Customs, and Interim Chief Justice; acquaintance of Edward Thache; owner of black slave and pirate named Caesar.

  Philip Ludwell the Younger: Speaker of the House of Burgesses, prominent plantation owner, and head of the Ludwell-Blair faction opposed to Spotswood.

  Robert Beverley: Historian, former member of Virginia House of Burgesses, and chief clerk of the Governor’s Council; author of The History and Present State of Virginia (1705), the first published history of a British colony by a native of North America; close friend and mentor of Spotswood.

  Reverend James Blair: President of William and Mary College, commissary of the Bishop of London, and supervisor of the church in Virginia; along with Ludwell, one of Spotswood’s biggest opponents.

  King George I: Hanoverian-born king of Great Britain and Ireland beginning in 1714; loathed by Thache and other Jacobite members of the Caribbean-Atlantic pirate fraternity, who saw Queen’s Anne’s Catholic half-brother, James III, as the rightful heir to the British throne.

  Governor Lord Archibald Hamilton: Governor of Jamaica in 1715 and 1716; officially commissioned Henry Jennings and other privateers to fish the Spanish wrecks off the Florida Coast, giving birth to the Golden Age of Piracy and Hornigold’s “Flying Gang” on New Providence, Bahamas.

  Edward Moseley: North Carolina landholder and lawyer; formerly served as speaker of the House and surveyor general; opponent of Tobias Knight and Governor Eden.

  BRITISH ROYAL NAVY OFFICERS

  Lieutenant Robert Maynard: First lieutenant aboard Royal Navy fourth-rate warship HMS Pearl stationed in Virginia; subordinate of Captain Gordon.

  Captain George Gordon: Commander of the Pearl.

  Captain Ellis Brand: Commander of the Royal Navy sixth-rate warship Lyme stationed in Virginia.

  Rear Admiral William Whetstone: Commander of flagship HMS Windsor stationed at Port Royal during Queen Anne’s War; Thache’s commanding officer when he served as naval officer aboard Windsor; Stede Bonnet’s grand-uncle.

  THACHE LOVE INTEREST AND FAMILY MEMBERS

  Margaret: Thache’s documented lover of Swedish ancestry who lived in Marcus Hook outside Philadelphia, Pennsylvania; he is reported to have spent considerable time with her when he wasn’t at sea; last name unknown.

  Edward Thache, Sr.: Mariner captain, plantation owner, and father of Thache; born in England but settled in St. Jago de la Vega (Spanish Town), Jamaica, by at least 1699; died in 1706.

  Lucretia Poquet Maverly Axtell Thache: Step-mother of Thache to whom he deeded his deceased father’s Spanish Town plantation and slaves in 1706 so that she and her three children from an earlier marriage could survive.

  Elizabeth Thache (2): One Elizabeth was his biological mother who died in Spanish Town in 1699, the other was his younger sister from his father’s first marriage.

  Cox, Rachel, and Thomas Thache: Edward Thache’s younger step-siblings from his father’s second marriage to Lucretia.

  PART 1

  THE SPANISH WRECKS

  CHAPTER 1

  MARCUS HOOK, PENNSYLVANIA

  SEPTEMBER 22, 1715

  ON SUMMER’S LAST DAY IN THE YEAR OF OUR LORD 1715, Edward Thache took his first step towards a short-lived but legendary career as a pirate when he set sail from Philadelphia for Port Royal to go a-wrecking. It was on that same fine morning that he found himself in the arms of a beautiful young Swedish woman he had fallen in love with named Margaret of Marcus Hook. The couple were enjoying their last intimacy together before he journeyed to Jamaica. Though born in Great Britain, he had grown up on the Caribbean island under privileged circumstances and been posted in Port Royal during his stint with the British Royal Navy aboard the HMS Windsor during the late Queen Anne’s War, or the 1702-1713 War of the Spanish Succession as it was formally known. They lay in bed in her small plank house along the Delaware River, softly kissing and caressing one another after having made love a second time during the night. As was typical of their final evenings together before he returned to the sea, they had gotten little rest.

  A part of him always dreaded having to leave his beloved Margaret of Marcus Hook behind when he set sail for another port as a first-mate merchant mariner and occasional privateer. But another part of him, his more adventurous and mischievous side, couldn’t wait to smell the tangy scent of the sea, to taste the saltwater on his lips, and to hear the brisk snap of sheets in the wind and the husky voices of seamen about the decks. After all, the first love of the man who would one day become the notorious Blackbeard the Pirate was the deep blue sea.

  “I wish you didn’t have to go,” said Margaret with a trace of sadness in her voice, running a hand through the luxurious growth of hair on his head, hair as black as night. “It seems as though you only returned a few days ago.”

  “It’s been a fortnight, my love,” replied Thache, feeling the usual melancholy inside but not letting it show on his moonlit face. “But I agree it has gone by too fast.”

  “How long will you be gone this time?”

  “That’s just it—I don’t know.”

  “Well, you’re still sailing to Jamaica, aren’t you?”

  “Aye, it appears so.”

  “Normally, that would entail a month’s journey to Port Royal followed by a week of debauchery and then a fortnight’s return sail. If that were the case, I should expect to see you shortly after Thanksgiving. But that isn’t the case, is it now, Edward?”

  Ye are one clever girl, he thought admiringly. Beautiful and clever, in equal measure. “I’m afraid it’s a tad complicated.”

  “No, I don’t believe it’s complicated at all. What are you not telling me? Out with it before I give you a sound whipping.”

  Now he couldn’t help a devilish smile in the moonlight peeking through the intricate lace curtains, but still he offered no reply.

  “Come now—I’v
e been keeping your bed warm and your belly full of ale and my fine Swedish cooking these past two weeks. The least you can do is tell me what you are up to.”

  “Alas, I can only say that this time it is different.”

  “Different? Different how?”

  “As I intimated, I’m not at liberty to discuss it.”

  “Not at liberty to tell me? What is it a secret mission on behalf of King George?”

  “That schnitzel-eater from Hanover is not my bloody king. Besides, I happen to be an American.”

  “A what?”

  “An American. I am part of the New World—the ‘Americas’ or simply ‘America’ is what they are calling it on the docks. It’s something new in the air. We are breaking free of Mother England by taking the matters of the colonies into our own hands and carving out something new and unprecedented.”

  “My, my, aren’t you the revolutionary? But what exactly is this ‘America’ of which you speak?”

  “It is what seamen around the globe are calling the New World here. They call it ‘America,’ and the people born and raised here, or like me who have grown up here since an early age, are ‘Americans.’ We are set apart from the British. Some like to call themselves ‘Indians’ to differentiate themselves from the British and demonstrate their colonial pride. But foreign seamen call us ‘Americans’ or ‘American colonists,’ both of which I happen to like better.”

  “I am an American, too, then.”

  “Aye, that you be my fair maiden. And our numbers are growing every day, so much so that one day we will be stronger than Great Britain itself. I would wager that in the not too distant future we will break free and govern ourselves.”

  “It sounds to me, Edward Thache, like you have given this considerable thought. Are you sure you are planning on going to sea because it seems as if you’re fixing to incite a rebellion?”

  “I just don’t like the excesses of the Crown. Britain may be our sovereign, but the King and his henchmen needn’t lord over everything we do. They certainly shouldn’t be asserting the rule of England in her distant dominions in an authoritarian fashion that breaks our backs and leaves no room for local decision-making. Britain’s empire reaches into distant lands, but its decisions are made in the smoky, dark-paneled back rooms of White Hall. For practical reasons, that can no longer be. We need stronger self-rule here in the Americas.”

  “Well, I can tell you have thought this through. But back to the subject at hand. You need to tell me what you are up to with this new venture of yours. So I would appreciate it if you would dispense with the theatricals and just tell me. You know perfectly well that if anyone can keep a secret, it is I.”

  He had to admit that was true: his beloved Margaret was certainly no gossip. But did he dare tell her when it was critical to keep it a secret? After all, this was the golden opportunity of a lifetime and he didn’t want to run the risk of buggering up the entire business with a loose tongue.

  “Out with it, Edward. You set sail in less than three hours, and I want to know what you’re up to before you make for the open sea. What is so important that you have to be secretive like this? You’re up to mischief, I know ye.”

  He couldn’t help but grin at the sassy look on her face, while simultaneously marveling at the incandescent beauty of her aquamarine eyes, the color of the Caribbean.

  “All right, I’ll tell you. But you have to promise me you will breathe not a whisper to anyone.”

  “My lips are sealed. Now what is this all about?”

  “It’s about a hurricane and a treasure fleet.”

  “I’m afraid I don’t follow.”

  “In July, the worst hurricane in fifty years struck in the Florida Straits. An entire Spanish treasure fleet was sunk off the coast in shallow water. The wrecks are said to be located a day’s sail south of St. Augustine.”

  “Aye, mister first mate, you have my ear. But what does this have to do with you?”

  “Millions of pieces of eight were spilled onto the sea floor from ten galleons that went down in the flotilla. When I reach Jamaica, my plan is to obtain a commission from Governor Hamilton to salvage the remaining silver, gold, and jewels that have yet to be found from the wrecks. The Spanish have set up a camp and are reported to be fishing the wrecks with dozens of native divers daily, but there is still a vast treasure remaining to be salvaged.”

  Sitting up in the bed, she looked at him wryly. “I believe I understand the situation now. You’re going a-wrecking and you aim to get your greedy little mitts on those sunken treasures before anyone else.”

  “Unfortunately, it’s already too late for that. The Spanish are there, and reportedly also some Bostonians, Bermudans, and Bahamians. I just want to get in early so I don’t come away empty handed. I told you that I gave away my inheritance to my step-mother Lucretia who lives in Spanish Town with her three young children.”

  “Yes, young Cox, Rachel, and Thomas. You did it for the family so they could make ends meet and continue to live in Jamaica.”

  “Well, this is my chance to make my own fortune and perhaps captain a ship of my own.”

  “That was a most generous thing you did for Lucretia and the children, and I can see why you would want to strike out and make a name for yourself. But won’t it be dangerous?”

  “The sea is always dangerous.”

  “You know what I mean. The Spanish aren’t going to just let you sail in and steal their treasure.”

  “It’s not their treasure anymore. It belongs to those that pull it from the littoral sands.”

  “So my lover is going a-wrecking—that’s what all this is about. Mother Mary, it’s going to be a feeding frenzy amongst a school of sharks.”

  “Which is why I’m sailing for Jamaica today. The news of the wrecks is just beginning to filter in and I want to have a proper piece of parchment in hand that allows me to fish those wrecks legally.”

  “A piece of paper won’t make it legal, Edward, and you bloody well know it.”

  She was right, of course, but he said nothing. They fell into a thoughtful silence, the moonlight trickling in through the fluttering curtains lending her face a gentle glow. In 1702, when Queen Anne’s War had first begun, the Spanish plate fleets that shipped the treasures of the New World to the Iberian Peninsula were temporarily discontinued so they wouldn’t fall prey to English attacks. The end result was that during the war huge amounts of treasure remained locked away in Vera Cruz, Mexico. It had been more than a decade since Spain had dispatched her last treasure fleet and she had accumulated a plethora of riches in the New World. But now with hostilities terminated, the fleet had embarked for Spain only to promptly sink from an early and unexpectedly catastrophic hurricane in the Florida Straits. The ten sunken galleons were reported to have been carrying an extraordinary haul: coins, silks, porcelain, ingots, and jewels worth an estimated seven million pieces of eight. With such a priceless cargo just sitting there on the shallow sea bottom, Thache was determined to get his fair share of the spoils, preferably with official government backing through a letter of marque and reprisal. Given that Spain, France, and England were no longer at war, the legal commission that would hopefully be signed by Lord Hamilton might very well be disputed by one or more nations, but he would still be on more solid footing if he had the official backing of the governor of Jamaica than if he ventured to the wrecks of his own accord. Given the stagnant wages for seamen since the war’s end, it was an opportunity that no experienced New World mariner in his right mind could ignore.

  “I’m sorry, I should have been honest with you and told you I intended to go a-wrecking from the start,” he said after a moment of introspection. “But the truth is, I felt a tad guilty.”

  “I’m more worried that it will be dangerous.” She reached out and touched his black beard; he was just beginning to grow out his facial hair, and to date, it amounted to little more than a horseshoe-shaped archipelago of stubble framing his handsome, sunburnished face. “I don’
t want anything to happen to you.”

  “Don’t worry about me. I can acquit myself quite nicely with both pistol and cutlass, thank you very much.”

  “Of that I have no doubt. But it is still going to be dangerous down there with greed and anarchy ruling the day. The Spanish will no doubt maintain that the riches are theirs and all other parties are to give the wrecks a wide berth. There’s bound to be fighting. How long did it take for the Spanish to notify their superiors in Havana of the loss of their vessels?”

  “The survivors reached Cuba by mid-August, and the salvors have been busy for more than three weeks now. So the word is out, passing from ship to ship and one harbor to the next. I’ve also been told that in Jamaica, the reports of the sunken treasure are being received with what can only be described as jubilation. They’re calling it a fair and just reprisal for Spanish aggression. I have to agree. During the war, I saw how the Spaniards operated.”

  “I know, you’ve told me—they were brutal.”

  “I saw their cruel work when I was aboard the HMS Windsor, and I heard the tales of the attacks and tortures they made on our brethren on the privateering vessels. Even after 1713 when the treaty was signed, the Spaniards still seized legitimate privateering vessels from Jamaica and sent them to their ports as legal prizes. Salvaging the plate fleet gives merchants and ship owners in Port Royal an opportunity to retaliate for previous losses and grievances. But that’s not the only reason. The truth is earnings from these types of raids have long boosted the prosperity of Jamaica, providing an important source of capital for the island. At the same time, they continue to keep the Spanish in check here in the New World.”

  “So you see it as not just an excursion of profit but of revenge, is that it?”

  “I don’t particularly like the Spanish. Or the French either, for that matter.”

  “Why if I didn’t know better, I’d say you talk like a freebooter, Edward Thache of Jamaica. Are you sure this is a wise decision to go a-wrecking?”