Blackbeard- The Birth of America

by Samuel Marquis

  “Yes, I know, but I’m the one that led them in combat and the men are looking to me to make sure they receive their just dues. More than thirty fell during the battle, and many of those that survived will never be the same. It was a bloody battle, sir. The men deserve their just compensation.”

  “Lieutenant, you are out of order, sir,” bristled Gordon. “It is not your place to question the governor—or your superior officers. The responsibility of ensuring proper compensation falls to myself and Captain Brand.”

  Spotswood held up a hand. “It’s all right, Captain,” he said to mollify the situation. “I understand Lieutenant Maynard’s concern.” He looked at the junior officer, who he could tell was a man of courage and honor and was only looking out for the men he had led into battle. “I can promise you that the said rewards will be punctually and justly paid, in current money of Virginia, according to directions of the signed Act.”

  “It was one hundred pounds for Blackbeard, twenty pounds for his officers, and ten pounds for every seaman, sir,” Maynard reminded him.

  “The governor does not need to be lectured on the amounts, Lieutenant,” seethed Gordon, clearly disappointed in his subordinate for tactlessly bringing up the terms of payment for the bounty on Blackbeard and his crew. Hoping to avoid further embarrassment, he then quickly changed the subject. “How do you anticipate the trial will proceed, Governor? Of course, Captain Brand, Lieutenant Maynard, and myself are prepared to testify on behalf of the Admiralty.”

  “Yes, we will need your testimony, gentlemen,” said Spotswood, quickly smoothing over the awkward moment. “Over the next few months, we will take depositions and firm up our case. Then we will try the pirates and hang the guilty parties based upon who is willing to cooperate and who took up arms against the King’s men.”

  “May I ask what is your view on the King’s new pardon?” asked Gordon. “The pardon that spared William Howard, Thache’s quartermaster, from the hangman’s noose.”

  Spotswood couldn’t help but grimace with irritation at the question. Since the King’s latest proclamation had arrived by ship from St. James’s Palace in London just a few weeks before—and, shockingly, the night before Howard was to be executed—the governor had been deeply worried. The King’s new pardon graciously extended the dates for which pirates would be eligible to surrender and receive the Crown’s mercy and clemency, which made his invasion into the sovereign colony of North Carolina completely illegal. While the King’s proclamation of the previous year had specified the date of January 5, 1718, as the date after which acts of piracy would no longer be eligible to be forgiven, the subsequent pardon that arrived on his desk in mid-December listed no such date. He had memorized the key passage in the proclamation so he could be certain of what the King and Privy Council intended: “Every such pirate...shall have our gracious pardon of and for such his or their piracy or piracies, by him or them committed before such time as they shall have received notice of this our royal proclamation.” The King’s intentions were perfectly clear. The new proclamation was worded to encourage more men to surrender and return to honest, productive lives. There was no specific calendar date after which acts of piracies would no longer be eligible to be forgiven—only those piracies committed after the pirates received notice of the royal proclamation would be ineligible. In other words, every piracy committed before a pirate heard about the new pardon would be forgiven.

  “Have the prisoners been made aware of the new proclamation?” he asked the two naval officers.

  Gordon looked at Maynard. “They were not informed by me or Captain Brand,” said the lieutenant. “But I only learned of the second pardon recently.”

  Gordon nodded. “The men arrested at Ocracoke and Bath Town will have to formally receive notice of the new proclamation now that they are incarcerated here in Williamsburg. And every piracy they committed prior to their being notified will have to set aside by you, right Governor?”

  Spotswood shook his head. Despite the obvious intentions of the King and the letter of the law, the lieutenant governor had no intention of letting any of the pirates off the hook. He was certainly not about to allow them to get off on a technicality just because the King needed privateers when war was resumed with Spain. He would bend the letter of the law as far as he could—and break it outright—if he thought he could get away with it. The new pardon was an obstacle, but he would find a way around it. At the very least, all those who had taken up arms against Maynard and his seamen would swing from the gallows just like Stede Bonnet in Charles Town.

  He would, or course, forge ahead with the process of extracting statements from the pirates, or at least from those who were willing to cooperate or could be bullied into cooperating. He already knew a great deal about Thache’s piratical activities up to the grounding of the Queen Anne’s Revenge, but from depositions of the fifteen newly captured prisoners he hoped to learn many more details. Specifically, he wanted to know more about the capture of the French ship and its cargo, Blackbeard’s suspected visit to Tobias Knight’s house, and his documented assault on prominent North Carolina citizen William Bell on the river.

  In his estimation, the investigation would proceed swiftly. His prosecutors would prepare for a thorough but speedy trial before the Court of Vice-Admiralty, with himself acting as head, for deciding the guilt or innocence of Blackbeard’s captured crew members. But this was merely for show. He was not about to rely upon the testimony of lowly pirates for evidence to determine who would or would not be convicted of crimes at sea. He didn’t need a trial to decide the outcome for his mind was already made up: some of the men would be found guilty while others would be found innocent—with guilt or innocence decided purely on the basis of who had taken up arms against the King, which he hoped would be all or most of Blackbeard’s crew. The pre-trial depositions would not be about collecting damaging evidence against Blackbeard and his band of misfits. The depositions would be about fishing for incriminatory evidence against the two top officials of North Carolina whom he believed had been in bed with Thache: Charles Eden and Tobias Knight. They were and always had been the ultimate targets of his witch hunt, and William Howard and Blackbeard both had always been nothing but stepping stones to undermine or destroy them.

  He needed to prove to the people of North Carolina and Virginia, and to the authorities in England, that the government officials in the colony were corrupt and that they were deriving a profit from the piratical acts of the notorious Blackbeard. This would enable him to increase his own position with his Council and the House of Burgesses and gain control over North Carolina. At the very least, he should be able to secure a tighter grip on colonial power. He could do this either by extending the boundaries of Virginia some distance southward, or by forcing the Crown to end the reign of the lords proprietors and make North and South Carolina into proper royal colonies instead of unregulated, private commercial enterprises where pirates were given refuge and free to plunder. It was a bold plan but he was confident he could pull it off, though he dare not tell the two naval officers about his scheme. For in his view, they were mere pawns on the colonial chessboard just like the notorious Blackbeard.

  “I have not yet considered all the particulars of the trial, gentlemen,” Spotswood lied in answer to Captain Gordon’s question. “The only thing that I can say at this time is justice will be served and I look forward to working closely with you, gentlemen, to secure the outcome that we all desire. As I have said, you have done this colony a great service. My esteemed colleague Mr. Beverley, who like you has given inestimable service to Virginia through his writings and years of political service, and I thank you from the bottom of our hearts.”

  “Hear, hear,” said Beverley. “Well done, gentlemen. Well done indeed.”

  “Huzzah—I heartily second that,” said Spotswood with a fatherly smile. “And as a small token of our gratitude, we have waiting for you downstairs two casks of wine and brandy, a collection of sweetbreads, and a honey-roa
sted ham.”

  He stood up and bowed to signal that the meeting was over.

  The two naval officers stood up from their silk-embroidered chairs and saluted. “Thank you, Governor,” said Gordon.

  “Yes, thank you, Governor,” echoed Maynard.

  Spotswood smiled his most ingratiating smile. “No, the thanks belong to you, gentlemen. And I promise you, Lieutenant Maynard, you and your brave men will be promptly paid.”

  “We have complete faith in His Majesty’s royal governor,” said Gordon. “And what, pray tell, should we do with Blackbeard’s head?”

  “Oh, please leave it with me.”

  “If I might ask,” inquired Maynard, “what does the governor plan on doing with the trophy?”

  “I’m glad you asked. I plan to suspend it from a pole on the west side of the Hampton River as an admonition to would-be pirates to reconsider their chosen profession. What do you think? Will that meet with your approval, gentlemen?”

  “Yes, that should do nicely,” said Maynard. “I will say one thing for the pirate commodore. He fought bravely to the bitter end. Despite no less than five gunshot wounds and a score of nasty sword cuts, he kept on fighting. I must confess that, in the heat of battle, I was worried that he was immortal and could not be smote down.”

  “Come now, Lieutenant, we don’t want to make a myth of the man,” groaned Spotswood. “He is but a common robber and thief, a barbarous wretch and murderous villain to all humanity. Six months from now no one will even remember his name.”

  “I wouldn’t be so sure about that,” said Robert Beverley. “I wouldn’t be so sure about that at all.”

  “Neither would I,” agreed Maynard. “And I should know. After all, I’m the one who fought a sword duel with the man and barely escaped with my life to tell the tale. And I say, despite his being a lowly pirate, he fought like a lion and his valor will be talked about for a very long time.”

  “Yes well, we’ll just see about that. We’ll be in touch, gentlemen,” snorted Spotswood, and he gave an impatient frown and sent the two Royal Navy officers on their way.

  CHAPTER 72

  PUBLIC GAOL

  WILLIAMSBURG, VIRGINIA

  MARCH 10, 1718

  SITTING ON THE FLOOR of his dirty, stench-ridden, frigid holding cell, Caesar wondered when he would be tried and hung. After two straight months of incarceration and fourteen weeks of being held against his will as a prisoner, he just wanted to get it over with. At this point, the life that he and his condemned sea mates were living was worse than being a slave.

  He would gladly trade his cold and disgusting prison cell in Virginia for a return to a life of slavery at Tobias Knight’s home in Bath Town. At least then he could sing songs, swap stories, and make merriment with his old friend Pompey. At least then he would be well fed, clothed, housed, and cared for by Dr. Maule, whom he had visited several times at his house at the corner of Bay and Craven Streets when he had the fever or some other such illness. At least then he might be able to feel a woman’s kiss or caress on a cool summer evening along the river. Despite being a slave owner, Knight had always treated him and the other slaves well, all things considered, and he would return home to the Pamlico River country of his youth in a heartbeat if by some chance he was released.

  He glanced around his ten-foot by ten-foot cell that he shared with five other black inmates captured following the battle at Ocracoke. Since their incarceration, he and Richard Greensail, James Blake, Thomas Gates, James White, and Richard Stiles had been kept in a separate holding cell from the other white prisoners, who had already gone through the legal process and no longer occupied the two adjacent cells. The six African prisoners were shackled with leg and wrist irons, and tethered together by lengths of chain. A doctor had been on hand to inspect them when they had first arrived at the jail, but that was two months ago and since that time they had been crammed together with no medical aid in their freezing, cramped chamber, with little in the way of light or comfort save dirty straw and rats for company. They had remained fettered throughout their incarceration, even though the likelihood of escape was virtually nonexistent. They were kept alive, but just barely, living on a diet of salt beef and cornmeal.

  The only thing that kept them going was that they were well informed on the goings-on in the outside world. From the son of the tavern owner who brought their meals and one of their jailers, they were given regular updates on the status of the public pirate trial and what was turning to be a major clash between the governments of North Carolina and Virginia over the invasion of the proprietary colony by Governor Spotswood. From the tavern owner’s son—whose father, like many colonists, had proved to be quite friendly to pirates since it helped augment his income—Caesar had learned that only one of the white pirates, John Carnes, had been executed. He had been hung at the mouth of the Hampton River. Nine others had either been pardoned or acquitted, including Israel Hands, who it was said had given testimony against Thache and the other crew members.

  According to the tavern owner’s son and the jailer, the Admiralty court had reached a decision on the guilt or innocence of the crew members based on specific criteria. Those that had been pardoned were those who were arrested in Bath Town and who were not aboard the Adventure during the engagement, and thus were eligible for the King’s newest pardon that arrived in mid-December. The two acquitted—Samuel Odell and James Robins who had remained below decks, pretended to be prisoners, and restrained Caesar from blowing up the ship—had been released from custody because neither bore arms against the King’s sailors, and their lives were spared. The remaining white pirate that was hung, John Carnes, was executed because, even though he was not part of the boarding party that had tried to take the Jane, he had defended the deck of the Adventure when it was boarded on the other side by sailors from the Ranger. He was not eligible for His Majesty’s forgiveness because he had openly fought Maynard’s men, possibly wounding or killing some of them. For that offense—considered high treason against the Crown—King George offered no amnesty, and he was hung.

  According to the jailer, Caesar and the other remaining pirates, all black men, were to be tried in the next day or two. Apparently, the governor had needed to wait until the harsh winter weather abated to hold a meeting with his scattered Council to decide whether the Africans would be tried as slaves or free men. But it didn’t matter to Caesar. He knew that he and his fellow condemned Africans would be hung. After all, they were black men in a white man’s world. It didn’t matter if they had given evidence that would help the Admiralty’s case, as he knew four of his jailmates had done. James Blake, Thomas Gates, James White, and Richard Stiles had all been bullied by Spotswood’s lawyers into giving testimony against Thache and the other crew members in their depositions. To gain the mercy of the court, they had recounted their sailing adventure across Pamlico Sound to Bath in September of last year to visit Tobias Knight and the subsequent robbery on the river of a man named William Bell. They had not wanted to testify against the pirate captain who had given them their freedom or their fellow crew members, but Spotswood had guaranteed that they would be given favorable treatment by the court for their testimony on behalf of the Crown, like Israel Hands.

  Caesar didn’t believe that for a minute, and he had stubbornly refused to answer any questions posed by Spotswood’s lawyers during his incarceration. During their futile attempts to question him, he could tell that they were up to something. From the very nature of their queries, it was obvious that they were less interested in the crimes of Thache and his crew than they were in Governor Eden and Tobias Knight. Spotswood and his legal team seemed determined to obtain incriminating evidence to prove their collusion with the pirates, and they were obviously willing to go to extreme lengths to get the information they sought. As best as Caesar could tell, they wanted to lay bare the corrupt relationship between Eden, Knight and Blackbeard’s gang of pirates during the Adventure’s various visits to Bath. After two interrogation sess
ions, Caesar realized that he and his fellow pirates were nothing but a means to an end for Spotswood. He suspected that the pompous ass had designs on forcing Eden out of office and taking the Carolina government for his own.

  At that moment, he heard a footfall outside the cell in the prison corridor followed by the jingle of a set of keys and the sound of the jail door opening. Two well-fed armed white guards stepped into the cell.

  “Caesar, you come with us,” one of them said.

  So this is it—I’m to be tried and hung today, he thought. He wasn’t sad or angry, only surprised that it had taken so long. Part of him was grateful, for his cell had been so freezing cold the past two months that he would almost rather die than endure the unbearable cold any longer. He and his cell mates would have frozen to death if not for piling up loose straw around themselves to conserve body heat during the frigid winter.

  The guards unlocked his chains. He said a quick goodbye to his friend Richard Greensail, who, like him, had not testified against his captain or the other crew members to save his own neck. He could not bring himself to say any parting words to the others, whom he regarded as traitors for giving testimony on behalf of the Crown, as Israel Hands had done. With his hands shackled in front of him, he was led from the prison cell down a pair of dank corridors until they reached a meeting room of some sort. Seated at the table in the center of the room was none other than Alexander Spotswood along with one of his lawyers that had questioned Caesar on the two prior occasions. The governor wore a freshly powdered wig, fine white silk tunic, pale blue hose, and a stiffly quilted blue velvet doublet. On his head he wore a pair of reading glasses with silk ribbons fastened to the lenses and looped with separate ribbons around his ears.

  Caesar felt his stomach twisted in knots. He made eye contact with the governor, who merely scowled at him and returned to his paperwork on the table in front of him. He then looked at the young lawyer who had tried unsuccessfully to take his depositions, but found his face unreadable.