CHAPTER XVII
THE GREAT FIGHT OF CAPTAIN TEACH
YES, there was Blackbeard's ship hard in the sand which had gripped herkeel while she was steering to enter the Cherokee Inlet. There was nopearly vapor of swamp mist out here to shroud her from attack. The airwas clear and bright, with a robust breeze which stirred a flashing surfon the shoals. Under lower sails, the two sloops watchfully crept neareruntil their crews could examine the stranded brig and read the story ofher plight. She stood on a slant with the decks sloped toward the enemy.This made it impossible to use her guns with any great effect.
Captain Wellsby tacked ship and kept the _King George_ well away fromthe cay, as Joe Hawkridge advised. With an ebbing tide, it was unsafe toventure into shallower water in order to pound Blackbeard's vessel withbroadsides. Lieutenant Maynard came aboard in a small boat and was quitethe dandy with his brocaded coat and ruffles and velvet small-clothes.One might have thought he had engaged to dance the minuet. ColonelStuart met him in a spick-and-span uniform of His Majesty's Foot,cross-belts pipe-clayed white as snow, boots polished until they shone.Such gentlemen were punctilious in war two hundred years ago.
"Your solid shot will not pound him much at this range, my good sir,"said the lieutenant. "With his hull so badly listed toward us, you canno more than splinter the decks while his men take shelter below."
"I grant you that," regretfully replied the soldier. "And case-shot willnot scatter to do him much harm. Shall I blaze away and demoralize therascals whilst you make ready your boats?"
"Toss a few rounds into the varlets, Colonel Stuart. It may keep themfrom massing on deck. One boat from your ship, if it please you, withtwenty picked men. I shall take twenty men from each sloop as boarders."
"Sixty in all?" queried the colonel. "Why not take a hundred?"
"They would be tumbling over one another,--too much confusion. This isnot a large vessel yonder. We must have room on deck to swing and cut."
"I will have my men away in ten minutes, Lieutenant Maynard," crisplyreplied the blonde, raw-boned Scotsman with a finger at his hat-brim incourteous salute. He proceeded to call the men by name, strapping, soberfellows who had followed the sea amid the frequent perils of themerchant service. Jack Cockrell was the only landsman and he feltgreatly honored that he should be included. Gone was his unmanlytrepidation. Was he more worthy to live than these humble seamen whofought to make the ocean safer for other voyagers, who were true kinsmenof the Elizabethan heroes of blue water? He tarried a moment to wringJoe Hawkridge's hand in farewell and to tell him:
"If I have ill luck in this adventure, old comrade,--do you mindpresenting my best compliments, and--and a fond farewell to MistressDorothy Stuart?"
"Strike me, Jack, stow that or you'll have me blubberin'," said Joe."Bring me a lock of Cap'n Teach's whiskers as a token for my lass inFayal if ever I clap eyes on her again. And you'd best take this heavycutlass which I whetted a-purpose for ye. 'Twill split a pirate likeslicin' an apple."
With this useful gift in his hand, Master Cockrell swung himself intothe boat where Colonel Stuart stood in the stern-sheets. Perhaps he,too, was dwelling on a fair maid named Dorothy who might be leftfatherless before the sun climbed an hour higher. The sloops were movingnearer the cay under sail and oar, trailing their crowded boats behindthem. Blackbeard had hauled two or three of his guns into such positionsthat he could open fire but the sloops crawled doggedly into the shoalwater and so screened their boats until these were ready to cast off forthe final dash.
It was a rare sea picture, the stranded brig with canvas loose on theyards and ropes streaming, her listed decks a-swarm with pirates inoutlandish, vari-colored garb, the surf playing about her in a brightdazzle and the gulls screaming overhead. The broad, squat figure ofBlackbeard himself was never more conspicuous. He no longer strutted thequarter-deck but was all over the ship, menacing his men with hispistols, shifting them in groups for defense, shouldering bags ofmunitions, or heaping up the grenades and stink-pots to be lighted andthrown into the attacking boats.
It was his humor to adorn himself more elaborately than usual. Under hisbroad hat with the great feather in it he had stuck lengths of towmatches which were all sputtering and burning so that he ran to and froin a cloud of sparks and smoke like that Evil One whom he professed toadmire. He realized, no doubt, that this was likely to be his laststand. The inferno which he was so fond of counterfeiting, fairly yawnedat his feet.
And now the sloops let go their anchors while from astern of themappeared the three boats of the assailants. They steered wide of eachother to seek different parts of the pirate brig and so divideBlackbeard's force. The boats of Colonel Stuart and Lieutenant Maynardwere racing for the honor of first place alongside. Blackbeard trainedtwo guns on them, filled with grape and chain-shot, and one boat wasshattered but it swam long enough for the cheering men to pull it to thebrig and toss their grapples to the rail which was inclined quite closeto the water. They were in the surf which broke against the ship, butthis was a mere trifle.
Most of them went up the side like cats, leaping for the chains anddead-eyes, slashing at the nettings, swinging by a rope's end, ordigging their toes in a crack of a gun-port. Forward they were pouringover the bowsprit, vaulting like acrobats from the anchor stocks, orswarming up the stays. It seemed beyond belief that they could gainfooting on the decks with Blackbeard's demons stabbing and hacking andshooting at them, but in such manner as this was many a great sea fightwon in the brave days of old.
Lieutenant Maynard gained his lodgment in the bows amid a swirl ofpirates who tried to pen him in front of the forecastle house. But histars of the Royal Navy were accustomed to close quarters and theystraightway made room for themselves. Chest to chest and hand to handthey hewed their way toward the waist of the ship where Colonel Stuartraged like the braw, bonny Highlander that he was. Almost at the sametime, the third boat had made fast under the jutting stern gallery andits twenty men were piling in through the cabin windows like so manyhuman projectiles.
In the _King George_ brigantine, Captain Jonathan Wellsby fidgeted andgnawed his lip, with a telescope at his eye, while he watched theconflict in which he could scarce distinguish friend from foe. He couldsee Blackbeard charge aft to rally his men and then whirl back to lungeinto the melee where towered Colonel Stuart's tall figure. The powdersmoke from pistols and muskets drifted in a thin blue haze. JoeHawkridge was fairly shaking with nervousness as he said to theskipper:
"There'll be no clearing the decks 'less they down that monster of aCap'n Teach. And he has more lives than a cat. See you my dear crony,Master Jack?"
"No, I cannot make him out in that mad turmoil," replied CaptainWellsby. "Nip and tuck, I call it, Joe."
This was the opinion forced upon Lieutenant Maynard as he saw theengagement resolve itself into a series of bloody whirlpools, his seamenand the pirates intermingled. He won his way past the forecastle intothe wider spaces of the deck, with only a few of his twenty tars ontheir feet. Colonel Stuart was hard pressed and the boarders who hadcome over the stern had as much as they could do to hold their own. Thusfar the issue was indecisive.
Jack Cockrell had kept close to the colonel, and felt amazement that hewas still alive. His cheek was laid open, a bullet had torn his thigh,and a powder burn streaked his neck, but he felt these hurts not at all.It was a nightmare from which there seemed no escape. He saw Blackbeardrush at him with a raucous shout of:
"The scurvy young cockerel! He will ne'er crow again."
Colonel Stuart sprang between them, blades clashed, and they were sweptapart in another wave of jostling combat. A moment later the colonelslipped and fell as a coal-black negro chopped at him with a brokencutlass. Jack Cockrell flew at him and they wrestled until a hip-lockthrew the negro to the deck, where the colonel made him one pirate less.
Formidable as these outlaws were, they lacked the stern cohesion whichhad been drilled into the sailors of the Royal Navy and likewise learnedin the hard school of the me
rchant service. Very slowly the odds wereshifting against Blackbeard's crew. It was unmistakable when LieutenantMaynard cut his way through to join Colonel Stuart, while the thirdgroup of boarders was advancing little by little from the after quarter.This meant that the force was gradually uniting in spite of the furiousefforts to scatter it.
And now there came an episode which lives in history two centuries afterthat scene of carnage on the decks of the stranded brig. It haspreserved the name of a humble lieutenant of the Royal Navy and saved itfrom the oblivion which is the common lot of most brave men who do anddare when duty beckons.
Blackbeard was bleeding from a dozen wounds and yet his activity wasunabated. He was like a grizzly bear at bay. His men began to believethat his league with Satan, of which he obscenely boasted, had made himinvulnerable. He was all that he had proclaimed himself to be, thewickedest and most fearsome pirate of the Western Ocean. And all thewhile, the slender, boyish Lieutenant Maynard, sailor and gentleman, hadone aim in mind, and that was to slay Captain Edward Teach with his ownhand. Nor was he at all content until he had cleared a path to where thehairy pirate was playing havoc with his broadsword.
With a loud laugh in mockery, Blackbeard snatched a loaded pistol fromone of his men and fired at this foppish young officer who presumed tosingle him out. The ball chipped Maynard's ear and he dodged the pistolwhich was hurled at his head. It was curious to note a lull in thegeneral engagement, a little interval of suspense while men regainedtheir breath or tried to staunch their wounds. They were unconsciouslyawaiting the verdict of this duel between their leaders. Jack Cockrell,for instance, finding himself alone by some chance, leaned against astanchion and heard his own blood drip--drip--on the deck.
It was a fleeting respite. Blackbeard swung his sword, with the might ofthose wide shoulders behind it. The lieutenant stepped aside likelightning and the bright weapon whistled past his arm. Then they went ateach other like blacksmiths, sparks flying as steel bit steel. Dexterityand a cool wit were a match for the pirate's untamable strength. Gory,snarling, Blackbeard shortened his stroke to use the point. Thelieutenant dropped to one knee, thrust upward, and found a vital spot.
Blackbeard stood staring at him with wonder in his eyes. Then thosethick, bowed legs gave way and he toppled like a tree uprooted. Hepassed out quietly enough, with no more cursing, and in this last momentof sensibility his thoughts appeared to wander far to his youth as abrisk merchant seaman out of Bristol port, for he was heard to mutter,with a long sigh:
"A pretty babe as ever was, Mollie, and the mortal image of its mother."
To his waist the sable beard covered him like a pall and one corded armwas flung across his breast and it showed the design of the skull andcross-bones pricked in India ink. Then as if the dead leader had issuedthe command, the surviving pirates began to fling down their weapons andloudly cry for quarter. They need not have felt ashamed of theresistance they had made up to this time, but now the delirium of combathad slackened and Blackbeard was no more. One or two of his officerswere alive and they knew that the game was lost. Reinforcements could besent from the sloops and the brigantine as soon as they were signaledfor. And there was no flight from a stranded ship. Blackbeard had beenable to infuse them with his own madness. Better chance the gallows thanno quarter.
Here and there a few of the most desperate dogs of the Spanish Main whohad followed Blackbeard's fortunes a long time, refused to surrender butthey were either shot down or overpowered. Captain Wellsby was sendingoff two boats from the _King George_ with his surgeon, and the sloopswere kedging in closer to the cay with the rising tide. Half the seamenwere beyond aid and of the pirates no more than twenty were alive. JackCockrell was thankful to have come off so lightly, and he consoledhimself with the notion that a scar across his cheek would be a manlymemento. Colonel Stuart had been several times wounded but 'tis hardkilling a Highlander.
It was Lieutenant Maynard's duty to offer public proof that he had slainnone other than the infamous Blackbeard, wherefore he made no protestwhen his armorer hacked off the head of the dead pirate. There was nofeeling of chivalry due a fallen foe, valiant though his end had been.This horrid trophy was tied at the end of a sloop's bowsprit, to bedisplayed for the gratification of all honest sailormen who might beholdit in port. It was not a gentle age on blue water and Captain EdwardTeach had been the death of many helpless people during his wickedcareer.
Lieutenant Maynard announced that he would take the two sloops into BathTown, before proceeding to Virginia, as they were overcrowded vesselsand the survivors of the boarding party needed proper care ashore. Itwould also afford the unscrupulous Governor Eden of North Carolina anopportunity to see his friend, Captain Teach, as a pirate who woulddivide no more plundered merchandise with him.
The brigantine _King George_ was ready to escort them into PamlicoSound, after which she would sail for Charles Town. Before thedeparture from the entrance of Cherokee Inlet, the stranded vessel wasset afire and blazed grandly as the funeral pyre of Blackbeard's stoutlads who would go no more a-roving.
Never was a nurse more devoted than Joe Hawkridge when his comrade wasmercifully restored to him. Jack was woefully pale and weak but inblithe spirits and thankful to have seen the last of Blackbeard.
"Hulled in the leg and a damaged figger-head," said Joe, as he sat onthe edge of the hero's bunk. "Triflin', I call it, when I expected tosee you come aboard feet first wrapped in a bit o' canvas."
"I don't want to talk about it, Joe. Let's find something pleasant. Hofor Charles Town, and the green trees and a bench in the shade."
"And a tidy little vessel after a while, you and me and the Councilora-pleasurin' up the coast with men and gear to fish up the treasurechest."
"And you believe that Blackbeard never got back to the Inlet to save thetreasure for himself?" asked Jack.
"Not the way his ship was headed when she struck the shoal."
The brigantine was well on her way to Charles Town when Captain Wellsbyfound that Master Cockrell could be carried into the comfortable maincabin to rest on a cushioned settle for an hour or two at a time. It wasduring one of these visits, when Joe Hawkridge was present, that theskipper remembered to say:
"Here is a bit of memorandum which may entertain you lads. LieutenantMaynard had Blackbeard's quarters searched before the brig was burned.Some valuable stuff was found, but nothing what you'd call a pirate'streasure."
The lads looked at each other but kept their own counsel and CaptainWellsby went on to explain:
"There was a private log, Blackbeard's own journal, with a few entriesin it, and most of the leaves torn out. I made a copy of what could beread, for the late Captain Teach was a better pirate than scrivener.Here, Jack, you are the scholar."
Jack read aloud this extract, which was about what might have beenexpected:
"_Such a day! Rum all out,--our company somewhat sober. A confusionamongst us,--rogues a-plotting--great talk of separation. So I lookedsharp for a prize. Took one, with a great deal of liquor on board, sokept the company hot, very hot. Then all things went well again._"
"That sounds familiar enough to me," was Joe Hawkridge's comment. "Andthe rest of his writing will be much like it."
"Not so fast," exclaimed Captain Wellsby. "Scan the next page, Jack.'Twill fetch you up all standing. Not that it puts gold in our pockets,for we know not where to search, but I swear it will make your eyessparkle and your mouth water."
Trying to hide his excitement, Jack saw a kind of rough inventory, andit ran like this:
"Where I Hid Itt This Cruse:
1 Bag 54 Silver Barrs. 1 Bag 79 Barrs & Peaces of Silver.
1 Bag Coyned Gold. 1 Bag Dust Gold. 2 Bags Gold Barrs.
1 Bag Silver Rings & Sundry Precious Stones. 3 Bags Unpolyshed Stones.
1 Silver Box set with Diamonds. 4 Golden Lockets.
Also 1 Silver Porringer--2 Gold Boxons--7 Green
Stones--Rubies Great & Small 67--P'cl Peaces of Eight & Dollars--Also 1 Bag Lump Silver--a Small Chaine--a corral Necklace--1 Bag English Crowns."
Captain Jonathan Wellsby listened to this luscious recital with an airof mild amusement. He was of a temper too stolid and sensible to wastehis time on random treasure hunting. Blackbeard might have chosen hishiding-place anywhere along hundreds of leagues of coast. He couldunderstand the agitation of these two adventurous lads to whom thismemorandum was like a magic spell. Of such was the spirit of youth.
"Any more of it?" demanded Joe Hawkridge.
"The next page was ripped out of the journal," answered the skipper."What cruise did he mean? If it was this last one, he may have hid it onthe Virginia or Carolina coast."
Master Cockrell gave it as an excuse that he had sat up long enough andwould return to his bunk. He was fairly bursting for a conference withJoe, and as soon as they were alone he exclaimed:
"It may be the sea-chest! What do you think?"
"A handsome clue, I call it, something to warm the cockles of yourheart," grinned the sea urchin. "Aye, Jack, I should wager he wrote thatdown whilst he lay at anchor in Cherokee Inlet."
"It seems shabby of us to keep the secret from Captain Wellsby, butthere is an obligation on us----"
"To Bill Saxby and the old sea wolf," said Joe. "We'll not forget thistrump of a skipper when it comes to splittin' up the treasure."
"I am anxious for Captain Bonnet and his crew," remarked Jack. "Withthis crusade against pirates afoot, our friends may be hanged before wesee them again."
Blackbeard: Buccaneer Page 17
