Blackbeard- The Birth of America

by Samuel Marquis

  “I’m not a defeatist—I’m a realist. Our time is finished. But even if it isn’t, my men and I have opted to accept the King’s mercy. For many of these men, it represents a new start, a fresh beginning. You and I never planned to become pirates. It happened by bloody accident. So when a chance like this comes along, we’d be fools not to take advantage of it.”

  “And what if I told you that there are rumors that the King may soon declare war on Spain and make privateers of us all.”

  “I’ve heard the rumors too. If it actually happens, I say bully for all of us gentlemen of fortune. But for the time being, I’ll take my chances with the governor of St. Thomas.”

  “So you’re definitely sailing south to obtain a privateering commission?”

  “That’s been the plan for me and my crew all along. But first, before I leave I have to make everything right with Governor Eden.”

  “What are you talking about? He’s already pardoned you.”

  “Aye, but I still have to fulfill my obligations to the governor’s Court of Vice-Admiralty by delivering eighty casks of sugar to Bath Town. It will take four or five days and take two trips.”

  Vane took a huge gulp of rum, gargled it in his mouth, drank it down, and gave a resounding belch. “These pardons are a slippery slope, Edward. They just don’t seem to be a long-term guarantee.”

  “Well, they’re supposed to be. That’s what Governor Eden assured me.”

  “Aye, but once the authorities discover that you’ve committed depredations after the January 5 grace period, do you honestly believe that they will honor it still?”

  “I don’t know. I suppose I will have to take my chances.”

  They fell into silence and again watched their crews reveling ashore in front of a backdrop of live oaks, red cedars, bayberry, and yaupon holly. The forest fringing the sandy beach concealed the Old Watering Hole used by Indian tribes for centuries before it was taken over by sea rovers. It was the last night of the banyan—the traditional British Royal Navy term for a period of shore-leave rest and relaxation that, by the late seventeenth century, had been adopted by the pirates to refer to any open-air gathering on the seashore. Thache stared out at the merrymakers sitting and talking around the open cook fires upon which whole bluefish and choice cuts of meats were being roasted and buckets of clams were being boiled; kicking back in makeshift driftwood chairs; passing around kegs and jugs of wine, rum, and brandy; and showing off their pistols, cutlasses, and muskets. Throughout the week, the men had been eating well. They eagerly hunted and roasted wild game, fished, and gathered fresh clams, oysters, and other shellfish, or purchased it from local traders rather than eat the ship’s stores of worm-infested beef and moldy hard tack. Surprisingly, sprinkled among the odiferous pirates were a handful of women. Charles Vane had managed to strike a deal with two of the local trading vessels to have a few North Carolina women brought ashore to share in the celebration.

  Throughout the week of the banyan, Thache and Vane had held many conversations, both drunk and sober, on the current state of affairs in the pirate world. Thache brought his Jamaican friend up to date on everything that had happened since the Queen Anne’s Revenge departed from Nassau before their blockade of Charles Town in June; how he intentionally scuttled his unmanageable French slaver at Old Topsail Inlet and duped Bonnet into leaving to seek the governor’s pardon without his share of the company’s plunder. He also told of his hastened visit to Philadelphia to visit his true love Margaret, whom he aimed to marry once he had secured his commission in St. Thomas, and the capture and return of the Rose Emelye with a consignment of sugar, cocoa, cotton, indigo dye, and casks of confectionaries. The hard-bitten Jacobite Vane filled in his counterpart on the recent events at Nassau: the arrival of Governor Woodes Rogers and the shameless betrayal of Thache’s old sailing partner, Benjamin Hornigold, and Vane’s former captain, Henry Jennings. Both Thache and Vane found it not only infuriating but deeply disheartening that their former brethren of the coast were now groveling before the Crown like lapdogs and had become traitorous pirate hunters. The pirate world was shrinking every day and it was only a matter of time before the Admiralty closed in and put an end to piracy on the high seas once and for all.

  At the edge of the group on the beach, he saw his sailing master Israel Hands talking to Vane’s second-in-command, Calico Jack Rackham, and gave a frown. It was the fifth time he had seen them talking alone together with no one else around, and he couldn’t help but feel they were plotting. Since the incident at Old Topsail Inlet, Hands had grown more and more disobedient with every passing day, to the point where the two men had almost come to blows. Hands had made it clear the reason for his displeasure: he was angry at his demotion. In the blink of an eye, he had gone from captain of a consort sloop and commander of his own ship to a subordinate role as sailing master of the Adventure. In two of their recent arguments, Hands had insisted that he rightfully deserved to be quartermaster, but that job was entrusted by the crew to Thomas Miller. Thache had suspected before the treachery at Old Topsail Inlet that Hands might cause problems following the breakup of the pirate companies and had, therefore, considered not even including him in the secret plans to wreck the Queen Anne’s Revenge. But in the end, he had included him in on the conspiracy, valuing his skills as a navigator and overall seaman. Looking at Hands and Calico Jack talking, he wondered if the two men might be venting their frustration at their respective captains.

  “How are things betwixt you and Calico Jack?” he asked Vane.

  “Why do you ask?”

  “Because Mr. Hands and Mr. Rackham are alone talking to each other again.”

  “Aye, they do seem to have a lot to talk about. You think they’re a-plotting, do ye?”

  “Mr. Hands is disgruntled over losing his captaincy. He and I have been butting heads of late, and just before your arrival I came very close to boxing his ears off and drawing my sword.”

  “A calm and composed man like you, Edward, losing your cool. I must confess I am surprised.”

  “So have you had any differences with Calico Jack?”

  “I’ve had differences with a lot of my crew members. They claim I be cruel and violent.”

  “They’re right, you are cruel and violent, especially when you’re well into your cups.”

  “What, you’ve heard them talking?”

  “I’ve overheard some things and so has Caesar. He keeps his eyes and ears open for me with regard to the crew.”

  “What does my crew say about me?”

  “That you have begun to exhibit moody, volatile, and sometimes even outright barbaric behavior.”

  “Is that so?”

  “Aye, ’tis just so and you need to avast and likewise belay—and I mean starting first thing tomorrow when you set sail. Otherwise, you’re going to lose your crew. It could be Calico Jack, or it could be someone else.”

  “What else do they say about me?”

  “That you’ve tortured some of your victims with burning matches and performed other forms of savagery. They also say that you’re too obsessed with the failed Jacobite cause.”

  “But it’s not a losing cause.”

  “It is for the time being. And you shouldn’t be torturing anyone. Remember what Black Sam said, we are Robin’s Hood’s men, not common thieves and ruffians.”

  “What are you talking about? You have tortured merchant captains.”

  “No, I haven’t. I’ve allowed my men to rough up a French captain or two who were reluctant to part with their valuables. And I’ve let them poke and prod a pair of Boston men who deserved a good whipping for what happened to Bellamy’s crew, but no one else. Not one of them was hurt at all.”

  “That’s not what the newspapers say? I’ve read the Boston News-Letter, Edward.”

  “Aye, and they lie and exaggerate about me every time to spin a terrifying tale to sell their papers and increase their readership. They have manufactured the great Blackbeard legend, calling me a
‘sea monster,’ ‘devil incarnate,’ ‘predator,’ ‘scandal of human nature,’ ‘enemy of mankind,’ and ‘robber, opposer, and violator of all laws, humane and divine.’ But it’s all balderdash. I haven’t done one tenth of the things they claim I’ve done, and haven’t imposed a single one of the base cruelties they say I am guilty of to the captured prisoners taken aboard my ships. It’s all part of the Crown’s effort to make me out to be a murderous thug instead of a simple sea captain, which is all I ever wanted to be, by thunder.”

  “I’m sorry, that just sounds a little holier-than-thou to me, my bearded friend.”

  “It’s the God’s honest truth. I just don’t believe that we need to be scoundrels and abuse those we take plunder from. But I will gladly burn the ship of any Boston man.”

  “Aye verily. We should hoist a cup to Bellamy.”

  “To Black Sam,” said Thache.

  “To Black Sam,” echoed Vane, and they tossed back their spirits and stared off at the banyan on the beach. The men were now singing the pirate song Henry Martin, having finally tired of crooning the bawdy Seven Drunken Nights. Thache looked at Vane and they smiled at one another and began to sing the words they both knew by heart.

  There were three brothers in merry Scotland

  In merry Scotland there were three

  And they did cast lots which of them should go

  Should go, should go

  And turn robber all on the salt sea

  The lot it fell first upon Henry Martin

  The youngest of all the three

  That he should turn robber all on the salt sea

  Salt sea, the salt sea

  For to maintain his two brothers and he

  They had not been sailing but a long winter’s night

  And a part of a short winter’s day

  When he espied a stout lofty ship

  Lofty ship, lofty ship

  Come bibbing down on him straight way

  “Hello, hello,” cried Henry Martin

  What makes you sail so nigh?

  I’m a rich merchant ship bound for fair London Town

  London Town, London Town

  Would you please for to let me pass by?

  “Oh no, oh no,” cried Henry Martin

  This thing it never could be

  For I have turned robber all on the salt sea

  Salt sea, the salt sea.

  For to maintain my two brothers and me

  Come lower your tops’l and brail up your mizz’n

  And bring your ship under my lee

  Or I will give you a full cannon ball

  Cannon ball, cannon ball

  And all your dear bodies drown in the salt sea

  Oh no, we won’t lower our lofty topsail

  Nor bring our ship under your lee

  And you shan’t take from us our rich merchant goods

  Merchant goods, merchant goods

  Nor point our bold guns to the sea

  Then broadside and broadside and at it they went

  For fully two hours or three

  Till Henry Martin gave to them deathshot

  The deathshot, the deathshot

  And straight to the bottom went she

  When they finished the final verse, Vane said, “When I go from this world of pirating, I will not go quietly and miserably like that lubberly Bonnet. I will not let them take me alive.”

  “What do you plan to do?”

  “I will blow my brigantine’s powder magazine and send my enemies, myself, and my crew to Davy Jones rather than suffer the indignity of being hanged by that German pig King George.”

  Thache stroked the long stiff braids of his beard, pondering what going out with a bang would entail. He knew he didn’t want to see the end of a rope and agreed that Bonnet had been a fool for allowing himself to be backed into a corner by Colonel Rhett and the King’s men. But what Bonnet’s capture signified for the future was what was most distressing. Clearly the numbers of safe havens for pirates were diminishing, and Thache knew he had to get out now while he could by securing his privateering commission in St. Thomas once he settled his affairs here in North Carolina and finished the outfitting of the Adventure.

  “You would really blow yourself and your crew up rather than be taken alive?” he asked Vane.

  “Aye, and you would be well advised to do the same unless you want to do the dance of death, foul your britches, and have people spit upon you and throw stones and rotten vegetables at you. There’s no honor in an ending such as that.”

  “No, there’s not,” agreed Thache, and he told himself that if he ever found himself cornered like Bonnet, he would follow Vane’s advice by igniting his powder magazine and blowing himself and his enemies to kingdom come.

  CHAPTER 57

  GOVERNOR’S PALACE

  WILLIAMSBURG

  OCTOBER 28, 1718

  “GENTLEMEN, I MUST ASK YOU TO SWEAR AN OATH OF SECRECY. No one is to know what we discuss here today, as there be too many favorers of pirates in these parts.”

  When Captain Ellis Brand and Edward Moseley promptly agreed and took their oaths, Spotswood gave an inward sigh of satisfaction. His plan to rid the Americas of Blackbeard, once and for all, was coming together slowly but assuredly; all he had to do was continue to gather evidence of wrongdoing and build his legal case against William Howard and soon everything would fall into place. Brand and his subordinate, Captain George Gordon of the HMS Pearl, had been sharing intelligence with him on Thache’s movements for months, and they had more than proven their worth and that of their spy network in the Pamlico Sound and Bath County areas. The well-connected Moseley, possessor of one of the most extensive holdings of private property in North Carolina, also had extensive spy resources at his disposal in the form of shallow-water pilots, traders, seamen, and merchants keeping a careful eye on the pirate captain’s movements.

  “I apologize for the cloak and dagger, gentlemen, but as we all know, three may keep a secret only as long as two of them are dead,” said Spotswood with the vows of secrecy complete. “Now what information do ye have for me?”

  Captain Brand cleared his throat to speak. “It has been brought to my attention from local pilots and informants on inbound sloops that the notorious pirate Charles Vane, who recently raided Charles Town, and a large number of his pirates have gathered with Blackbeard along the northern shores of Ocracoke Inlet. It appears the corsair and his nearly one hundred men have since moved on, but it is possible they could return.”

  Spotswood nodded. It was an ominous turn·of events. The first thing he needed to do was move faster with his anti-piracy efforts and take bolder action to protect the profitable southern plantations. In his view, it was obvious that Blackbeard was fortifying Ocracoke and making it a general rendezvous point for the sea robbers. Somehow, the pirate nest had to be dispersed—or eradicated.

  “You’re sure that Vane has left?” he asked Brand.

  “That’s what the traders say.”

  “All the same, it is clear the pirates have built up a stronghold in the area.”

  “I would most vigorously agree.”

  Powerful landholder and merchant Edward Moseley then made his opinion on the matter known. “All Blackbeard needs now is a half dozen more pirate ships and he can build an impregnable bastion on the Outer Banks. Governor Eden’s certainly not prepared to stop him, and is unlikely to lift a finger even if he could.”

  “I quite agree,” said Spotswood acerbically. “He and Tobias Knight are in bed with the man, and because of that, we will soon have a new armed pirate fortress at Ocracoke to rival Madagascar or Nassau.”

  “Unless they can be stopped,” said Captain Brand. “The Lords have ordered me to do my utmost to destroy these vipers and I intend to do just that.”

  Spotswood nodded. “Which means that the Admiralty has, in turn, given me the authority to take whatever measures I wish to remove men like Thache and William Howard as threats to the colonies. I plan to bring the q
uartermaster of the Queen Anne’s Revenge to trial shortly and that legal case will provide irrefutable evidence of these men’s piratical activities both before and after the January 5 amnesty date. And when it’s done, even the capable John Holloway won’t be able to save Howard from the hangman and a cold iron gibbet along the James.”

  “Whether Vane or other pirates band with Thache on Ocracoke,” said Brand, “it is clear that Blackbeard has established a formidable redoubt and will openly encourage them to take up residence there, whether they have taken the King’s pardon or not. This gives him a remote pirate headquarters from which to operate, while still being close enough to Bath to sell his plunder to local merchants and unscrupulous ship owners.”

  “I concur, gentlemen. Furthermore, I assume that we can all agree that this is what makes Blackbeard doubly dangerous.”

  “How so?” asked Moseley.

  “It raises the very real possibility that Ocracoke will not only soon become a bustling pirate haven, but will attract the very pirates who have refused the pardon or have agreed to it falsely and have no intention of honoring its terms. The Outer Banks lay close to the Virginia Capes, and so pirates based there could lie off the Virginia coast, plundering at will. If threatened, they could easily evade any larger pursuers in the shallow waters of Pamlico Sound.”

  “Which means they must be routed out of their viper’s nest,” said Brand.

  “Yes, but first we need to continue to gather intelligence and build up our case. Mr. Moseley, what new information do you have for us in that regard?”

  “I believe Blackbeard visited with Governor Eden or Tobias Knight, and possibly both, the night that he robbed William Bell.”

  “Do you have proof?”

  “Unfortunately not. But I believe the reason Thache sailed his periauger all the way from Ocracoke to Bath Town was to gain the counsel of one or both men regarding the disposition of the seized French vessel he claimed was derelict.”

  “I would wager that that’s precisely what the notorious Blackbeard the pirate was doing in Bath. But if you have no direct proof, it will be difficult—”