Blackbeard- The Birth of America

by Samuel Marquis

  “That sounds like a bold plan, Governor. Please don’t hesitate to call upon me if I can be of further service in the apprehension or imprisonment of either of these rogues.”

  “Don’t worry, I shall be calling on you soon enough. On that you have my word, Captain,” said Spotswood with a knowing smile.

  Five minutes later, he smiled again as the waiter brought his codfish dumplings smothered in oyster sauce, his Apple Tansey, and Brand’s aromatic seafood stew.

  CHAPTER 53

  CAPE FEAR RIVER, NORTH CAROLINA

  SEPTEMBER 27, 1718

  “THE TWO VESSELS are heavily armed sloops with sixteen guns total and more than a hundred men. They laid in anchor during the night guarding the river entrance and fly the King’s colors,” said Ignatius Pell, bosun of Stede Bonnet’s Royal James, which he had renamed from the Revenge in honor of James III living in exile.

  Bonnet looked at him a moment, then at his pugnacious and charismatic quartermaster Robert Tucker, not wanting to believe the disconcerting news. With only one vessel, ten guns, and a crew of forty-five men, he was outclassed, outgunned, and outmanned. The pirates had observed the two motionless masts less than a mile downriver and believed them to be wayward merchant vessels that would make easy prizes; but now that Pell and his men had returned from their reconnaissance in their three canoes, Bonnet knew better. The vessels were well-armed British sloops-of-war, and instead of being grounded on the outer bar, they were anchored for the night and ominously waiting for the pirates at the mouth of the Cape Fear River. He knew his only chance was to slip past or fight them off on the morning’s rising tide.

  “Very well then,” said Bonnet. “Mr. Pell and Mr. Tucker, make preparations to clear the decks, ready the guns, and do battle in the inevitable fight that we have coming at dawn. If these interlopers think we will surrender without fierce resistance, they are dead wrong.”

  “Aye Captain, we’ll be ready,” said Pell.

  In preparation for battle, they transferred all arms and prisoners to the Royal James and abandoned the other two ships in the pirate flotilla, the Francis and Fortune. After capturing more than a dozen prizes between the Virginia Capes and New Jersey in July and August, Bonnet had finally convinced his unruly crew to take a break from plundering to careen the hull of the Royal James in the seclusion of the Cape Fear River. The careening operation had begun in mid-August and was taking longer than expected due to the leakiness of the vessel, which had required extensive new planking from a stripped boat. With the abundance of plundered provisions now aboard the Royal James, the pirates had decided to remain in the safety of Cape Fear until the end of the height of hurricane season at the beginning of October. Then they would take safe passage south to St. Thomas and begin their new lives as legally-sanctioned privateers.

  Unfortunately, with the spotting of the King’s vessels at the mouth of the river, the first of October had proven a few days too long to linger at Cape Fear. Unbeknownst to Bonnet and his crew, Governor Johnson of South Carolina had finally responded to the public clamor to take action against piracy and had hired veteran sailor and soldier Colonel William Rhett to mount an expedition to North Carolina to capture or kill the pirates continuing to pose a threat to his beleaguered city. The cantankerous Rhett had previously proved his valor in defending his colony against the outside threats posed by northward-probing France and Spain during Queen Anne’s War. Intelligence from Rhett’s sources revealed that a pirate ship was careening with two prizes near the mouth of the Cape Fear River.

  To engage the pirates, Rhett had at his disposal the sloop Henry with eight cannons, commanded by Captain John Masters, which would serve as his flagship, and the Sea Nymph with eight cannons, captained by Fayrer Hall. He set sail from Rhett’s Wharf in Charles Town in mid-September with a combined force of one hundred thirty men on the two sloops-of-war—and now he had found his quarry. There was just one problem: he believed he had in his gunsights not Stede Bonnet but Charles Vane, who had recently been terrorizing Charles Town.

  The pirates spent a sleepless night making preparations for the coming fight. The opposing sides could hear the sounds of each other’s feverish clearing, prepping, and stacking resonating over the surface of the river. But it was Bonnet who seized the early initiative by setting sail first. He got the Royal James under way in the predawn darkness, and as the sun rose they were already heading into the main channel, straight for the two enemy sloops. He liked his chances. Though he had only forty-five men under his command and was outnumbered, his men were armed to the teeth with multiple pistols for each man and the Royal James’s ten guns were primed, double-shotted, and absolutely lethal. The sailors on both sides had slept by their posts, their guns loaded and ready, but it was Bonnet who got the early jump, taking advantage of the ebbing tide and making a run for the open ocean. His plan was to race past the two sloops with guns blazing, forcing his way past the pirate hunters and to the sea. He knew his only hope was to avoid being boarded and engage in a running fight until the Royal James could clear the mouth of the Cape Fear River.

  Peering through his spyglass from the quarterdeck, he saw that the two unknown sloops flying British colors—which he would only later learn were the Henry and Sea Nymph under the command of Charles Town’s hero and defender Colonel William Rhett—were heading towards him, hoping to board. He gave the order to raise the Jolly Roger and give battle. Minutes later, as the vessels jockeyed for position and the early morning sun crept over the surface of the Atlantic, it quickly became apparent that the closer of the two vessels—the Henry—would intercept him and his men and they would not be able to make it safely to the open sea. The King’s men had effectively blocked his escape route. He had hoped to surprise the enemy in a running engagement, but his opponent had foiled the plan and appeared to be preparing to sail his sloops upriver towards the Royal James, where he would pin her between his ships and then board her.

  “Mr. Ross, prepare your port guns to fire!” Bonnet shouted to his master gunner, George Ross.

  “Aye, Captain!”

  Next he gave an order to his quartermaster. “Mr. Tucker, prepare to defend against boarding!”

  All he received in return was an insubordinate grunt, but he knew the order would be carried out. He and Tucker seldom saw eye to eye, but they were least in conflict when taking a prize or in the heat of battle.

  As the lead boat, the Henry, bore down on them, the Royal James was forced to maneuver precariously close to the river’s western shore. Waiting in reserve behind the Henry, the Sea Nymph sailed further downriver in case the pirates were able to slip past the Henry.

  “Port cannons, open fire!” commanded Bonnet to Ross.

  It was then, in the blink of an eye, that everything went to hell. Bonnet was looking defiantly across at the enemy captain wearing a feathered tricorn hat and auburn military uniform when he and a dozen of his men were suddenly and violently thrown forward onto the deck.

  “Son of a sea hag, we’ve run aground!” cried Tucker.

  “To quarters! To quarters!” cried Bonnet. “We’re going to have to make a fight of it!”

  “Wait a minute—look over there!” said Ignatius Pell, pointing. “They’ve run aground too!”

  Bonnet scanned the sea. Unable to take in sail so quickly, the enemy sloops had shot past him and indeed run aground, but not in the position their British commodore would have chosen. The Henry had drawn within two hundred feet of the Royal James before she, too, grounded on the same shoal. Further downstream and on the outer edge of musket range, the Sea Nymph joined the other two vessels and ran hard aground. At least now, thought Bonnet, it would be impossible for his attackers to fire broadsides at him from two directions.

  “Open fire with pistols and muskets! Fire at will!” commanded Bonnet once he realized their situation.

  The Royal James and Henry immediately began to exchange small arms fire. Bonnet knew that none of the three sloops would be able to move until the fl
ood tide lifted them clear; then the first vessel to break free of the bottom would be able to slip across the bows of her wallowing opponent and rake her with a full broadside. He could only keep his fingers crossed.

  For several minutes, the two sides fired upon one another with no advantage to Bonnet or Rhett. And then luck fell in favor of the gentleman pirate. The three vessels listed dangerously on their sides due to the grounding, but in the falling tide Bonnet and his men soon gained the advantage over their adversaries. Sailing downstream, the Royal James had grounded on the starboard side of the channel, and heeled over to starboard. The other two sloops heeled to port, but they faced upstream. This meant that while the hull of the Royal James acted as a bulwark protecting the men behind it, the sloping decks of the Henry and the Sea Nymph lay fully exposed to the enemy. With the Royal James’s deck inclined away from the Henry, the pirates were able to take cover behind the railing, while the deck of the Henry was fully exposed to the Royal James, and the pirates poured deadly shot into the King’s men. As both sides began peppering their opponents with small-arms fire, it was Rhett and his men who received the worst of the exchange. However, the cannons proved useless to both sides. The cannons of the Royal James and Henry were neutralized as neither Bonnet or Rhett could bring their guns to bear from their tilted decks. The Henry’s gunners were unable to position their cannons high enough, and the pirates could not range their cannons low enough to accurately and effectively blast the enemy.

  Throughout the battle, Bonnet restlessly paced the deck, bravely exhorting his men and threatening to shoot anyone who tried to quit. In between the musket volleys, ugly taunts were exchanged by both sides. The Jacobite pirates lodged insults against King George, and in return, the crew of the Henry mocked James III, referring to him as the “Pretender.” Those who dared to poke their heads above the cover of bulwarks were mowed down. Despite his current advantage, Bonnet was only too aware that the battle’s victor would be the first vessel able to refloat. The pirate ship continued to list to port as the tide continued to fall, providing cover for the freebooters to shoot from behind the starboard rail. Meanwhile, Rhett’s Henry continued to list towards the Royal James, exposing the colonel’s squadron on deck to lethal gunfire from the pirates.

  During the engagement, Bonnet noticed a seaman named Thomas Nichols across the deck, cowering and refusing to fight. Having only recently joined the Royal James, Nichols had found the pirate life not to his liking and had refused to sign the articles, which had angered Bonnet and the other crew members.

  With a pistol in one hand and cutlass raised in the other, Bonnet called out to him: “Fight, godamn ye, or I’ll blow your fucking brains out!”

  “But I…I can’t.”

  “I said engage the enemy, Mr. Nichols, or I will shoot you down like a mangy dog! Now man your station with your mates!”

  “But I don’t want to be here!”

  With blood boiling in his veins, Bonnet carefully made his way over to Nichols, bullets ricocheting and pinging all around him. Stepping up to him, he raised his pistol and pointed it at the terrified seaman’s head.

  “No, please don’t kill me! I just can’t do it! I’m not cut out for pirating!”

  “Fight, I tell you, or I’ll fly your bloody head as my banner!”

  He covered his face with his hands. “No, no, please!”

  Bonnet waved his pistol menacingly at him. “You have let your shipmates down and for that you must pay the ultimate price!”

  “No, please, I beg your mercy!”

  Bonnet leveled his pistol at his face. But as he started to squeeze the trigger, a shot rang out. Turning in the direction of the shot, he saw the musketeer standing next to him get struck in the head by a bullet. In the next instant, Bonnet was covered in a spray of blood, bone, and tissue. The seaman, a favorite of the gentleman pirate’s, toppled over dead onto the deck. As Bonnet wiped away the blood and brain matter from his face, he came under a galling fire from the Henry and retreated back to the quarterdeck, while Nichols scurried to safety down into the hold.

  The battle was waged with spurts of violence followed by lulls for nearly six hours as both ships anxiously waited for the next high tide. During the contest, the pirates flew the red flag of defiance, and at one point tied a strand of line around its center, making a “wiff,” and hoisted it back up, calling for the pirate hunters to come board them. A wiff in a flag was the common signal for a pilot to come aboard, and thus the pirates were humorously daring the pirate hunters to make a suicidal attempt to board them. But Rhett and his pirate hunters were undaunted, shouting “Huzzah!” in resolute reply and letting the pirates know that “it would soon be their turn.” The British were right. When the tide finally turned, the fortunes did too, and it was the Henry that floated free first. A great cheer rose up from the men on board as the battered sloop eased off the river bottom, sailed out of range, and the British sailors began to make quick repairs to the ship’s rigging.

  “Damn them for villains!” snarled Bonnet. “Mr. Pell, get us off this sand bar! We should have been the ones to break free first!”

  “There’s nothing that can be done,” replied the sailing master. “We’ve already tried to pull her off with the longboats!”

  “Damnit man, we’re sitting ducks! If we can’t get off this bar, then we shall have to fight to the last man!”

  Bonnet couldn’t believe his bad luck yet again. He had inflicted heavy casualties on his immobilized enemy for nearly six hours, but the rising tide had lifted his enemy free first. Still grounded and facing the Henry’s cannon, he knew his situation had gone from bad to downright bleak. But he would rather fight to the death than surrender and suffer the humiliation of being tried and hung as a pirate. No, there would be no macabre dance of death for him!

  “Great scot, she’s coming for us!” cried Tucker.

  “She be hellbound on our prow!” echoed master gunner George Ross.

  Bonnet and the rest of the crew stood there with mouths agape as Colonel William Rhett and his Henry sailed towards the pirates to board their vessel and finish them off. The Sea Nymph was soon also free, and both sloops-of-war began to bear down on the still grounded Royal James.

  “We’re outgunned and have no choice but to surrender,” said Pell. “We’ve killed and wounded quite a bundle, but there’s just too damned many of them.”

  Bonnet shook his head in disgust. “We are not going to submit, damn you!” He turned to his master gunner. “Mr. Ross, prepare to light a fuse to ignite the ship’s powder magazine. I would rather send each and every one of us to the river bottom than submit to King George!”

  “You can’t blow us up!” protested Pell. “We might very well be acquitted in a courtroom! After all, we have been granted the King’s pardon!”

  “Avast, Mr. Pell, or I’ll shoot you down myself!” He drew out his two pistols and pointed them at him. “Listen to me, you men!” he yelled to the thirty or more men presently on deck. “I will shoot any man that stands against me! Do you understand me? I will shoot them down like a scurvy dog!”

  But he was met with protest not only by Pell, but more than two dozen seamen, who began pointing their guns at him and shouting him down. With the blood pumping through his veins, Bonnet yelled back at them that they were cowards and that he would rather blow himself and his crew to kingdom come than surrender to the enemy. Back and forth the two sides argued as Rhett’s men once again opened fire with muskets and pistols from the Henry and repositioned their cannons to accurately fire. Bonnet and his men, deeply embroiled in argument, were forced to duck down to avoid being hit.

  “Now that they’ve broken free,” pointed out Tucker, “they can open up on us with partridge, case, and burrel shot—or hit us with a broadside or two. I agree with the majority that the game is up. We’ve seen enough bloodshed for one day and must take our chances in a courtroom rather than face certain death. They be too many and we’re outgunned to boot. So I say we surrender w
ith honor!”

  “There’s no honor in surrendering, you bastard!” protested Bonnet. “They’re just going to hang us all as pirates if we surrender! All you’re doing is delaying the hangman!”

  “Well then, so be it!” said Ignatius Pell to a rumble of concurrence from the bulk of the crew. “It’s obviously what the men want. You know the rules, Captain: one man, one bloody vote!”

  Before Bonnet could utter a further word of protest, one of the crew members—no doubt exhausted by the six-hour battle—ran a white flag of truce up the mainmast.

  Bonnet shook his head in disgust, but knew he was powerless to persuade the crew to stand behind him. His authority had long ceased to carry any weight.

  “Very well then. If this is the way you want it.” Feeling bitterly defeated, he reached for his speaking trumpet and called out to the approaching Henry.

  “Stay where you are and stop firing!” he called out to the vessel. “I’m sending a flag of truce aboard you!”

  Five minutes later, he, Pell, Tucker, and a handful of his senior crew members had rowed over to the Henry. They were received by four dozen armed men led by a middle-aged, scruffy-faced adventurer wearing a brown-dyed wool military jacket and black leather seaman’s boots.

  “I am Colonel William Rhett,” he said, with what Bonnet could see was some irritation. “Am I to understand that you are asking me to surrender when you are still grounded and have no avenue of escape?”

  Bonnet stepped forward and bowed formally. “No, sir, I am submitting before you. My name is Captain Stede Bonnet of Barbados.” He withdrew his cutlass and handed it over with both hands. “I hereby surrender myself and the crew of my sloop, the Royal James, to you in good faith that we will be treated fairly.”