May 27, 1718
South
Carolina Coast
A
red-orange smear across the shimmering horizon announced the new day as First
Mate Hand scanned the ocean to the east with his spyglass. Gulls cried out and
swooped among the riggings and down to the deck, searching for scraps of food,
and waves slapped at and rocked the vessel. The only other sound was the
groaning of the mast and riggings as the ship dipped and rose with the waves.
It
was the rising sun that made the sail on the horizon visible to Hand. A
shimmering shadow approached from the distance, rising and falling in rhythm
with the movement of his own vessel.
His arms began to
tremble as he watched the ship draw nearer. Collapsing the spyglass like an
accordion, he gulped and ran to notify the captain.
He raised his hand
to rap on the door to the captain’s cabin and hesitated. The captain had been
up late, drinking heavily and celebrating their recent plunderings. His head
would not be happy about being awakened at dawn. Still, an approaching ship was
an urgent event.
His grip tightened
on the spyglass as he brought the knuckles of the other hand against the wood
three times hard.
No answer.
“Cap’n?”
Still no answer.
“Cap’n!”
This time he heard stirring in the cabin. A woman
groaned. Heavy footfalls approached the door.
“What is it, Hand?
Do you realize what bloody time it is?”
“Cap’n,” Hand
repeated, leaning close to the door, “a ship approaches from the East!”
“What!?” Roared
the voice from within. “Why the bloody hell didn’t you say so?!”
Rustling sounds
emanated from within and what might have been a wooden chair toppling over.
“How far out?”
Came the rumbling bass from within.
“Half a league
maybe.”
The voice in the
cabin laughed.
“Let me get my
britches on and then I’ll be up. Don’t raise the flag until we can see theirs,
understood?”
“Aye.”
Hand ran back to
the deck to watch the approaching vessel as he waited for the captain. The sun
was now an orange half-circle framing the ship.
Other crewmembers
had awakened and, having noticed the approaching ship, began to gather at the
rail to watch. Their expressions were anxious as they leaned forward, vainly
attempting to see the ship’s flag. They were eager for this one, for they all
knew it would be the last. Already they had enough booty in the hold on which
to retire, and this would be bonus treasure before they sailed north to settle
down. Hand shared their desire to get out of pirating. He’d been in it for long
enough. He first served under Hornigold and stayed with the ship when Hornigold
got out. It was a rare thing to leave the business with one’s neck still intact
and the same length as when one started.
That’s what Hand
wanted too. Out before he got his neck stretched.
The governor of North Carolina had
promised amnesty to anyone who chose to abandon piracy and settle in the
colonies, and with the loot they carried, they could all make a good go of it.
Hand knew that was
only a dream for some, for the captain would not want to split the treasure
with so many hands. He wasn’t sure exactly what the captain planned to do with
those he wanted to cut out of the bargain, but he was sure that it would be
more than a few. He also knew that he, loyal first mate, would retire a wealthy
man.
Thundering
footfalls on the deck behind him heralded the captain’s approach. Hand turned
and nodded to his commander.
The captain was in
full garb. A black cap sat atop his black-haired head and a red coat hung down
to behind his knees. Four pistols protruded from holsters on leather straps
slung around his neck, and two cutlasses dangled in ornate scabbards at his
sides. A dagger was strapped to each thigh, and two more were tucked in his
belt.
He was braiding
his scraggly beard as he approached the rail.
“The spyglass, Mr.
Hand,” he said.
Hand gave him the
glass, and the captain gazed out at the approaching ship.
“Okay, Mr. Hand,”
we can raise the flag now.
Hand barked the
order to raise the flag, and a crewmember ran from the rail to carry out the
command. Hand watched as the black flag rose up the mast.
Catching the light
of the rising sun, the familiar flag was surely visible by now to the
approaching vessel.
* * * * *
As the sun rose
behind them illuminating the emerald coast of South Carolina, the crew and
passengers aboard the Edinburgh Venture
gazed westward at several ships between them and the Port of Charleston.
“Looks like
they’ve sent an escort or perhaps a welcome from the governor,” remarked the
first mate, a green sailor from a well-to-do London family.
Commander Albert
Macbright grunted as he squinted at the distant ships.
“What flag are
they flying?” He asked.
Though of average
height, Macbright was broad shouldered and a seasoned war veteran who commanded
respect among his crew. He was formal in all his dealings and paid attention to
the smallest details in the operation of his ship and the behavior of his crew.
Unlike many of his peers, Macbright was clean shaven and discouraged facial
hair among his crew. Meticulous grooming, he maintained, was a sign of
industriousness and discipline.
“None, sir.”
Macbright’s eyes
narrowed.
“None? Give me the
glass.”
Macbright snapped
the leather-bound scope to his eye, extended it to its full 34 inches and
peered through it a long moment before shoving it back into the first mate’s
hand.
Some of the
colonials had begun gathering on the deck to see the welcoming committee that
had come to greet them.
Macbright motioned
some of the crew to him.
“Man your stations
and stand ready,” he told them. “Say nothing to alarm the passengers.”
The first mate
scurried to Macbright.
“You think it’s
pirates, captain?”
Macbright glared
at him.
“Watch yourself,
Willhite,” he snapped. “I don’t want the passengers bloody panicking and
jumping overboard, hear?”
Willhite swallowed
hard and nodded.
“Our job is to
transport these ladies and gentlemen to the Colony of South Carolina
unmolested. I’ll not have my crew jumping to conclusions and feeding the flames
of mass hysteria among the passengers.” As he spoke, he nodded and smile
amiably at the passengers who hurried toward the rail.
Willhite nodded
again.
“Now watch that
big ship in the middle and tell me if and when it raises a flag.”
Macbright whirled
away from Willhite and strode across the deck, simultaneously smiling at the
passengers while watching his crew to ensure that they were following orders.
First timers to
the colonies were commenting on how beautiful the coast was, how green the
foliage was. It was like a giant emerald in the early sun. Some waved at the
waiting ships.
Macbright clenched
his teeth.
Come plunder us,
he thought. We’re bloody wealthy travelers transferring all of our
belongings to the New World .
His thoughts also
strayed to the chest in the hold, the one that had been delivered just as they
were preparing to leave port with a message from former Prime Minister Walpole.
It was actually two messages that accompanied the chest; both notes bore Walpole ’s seal. One
contained specific instructions about what to do with the chest and its
contents; the other was not to be opened until they reached the colonies.
Macbright had opened both of them anyway. He did not fully understand the
meaning of the messages, but he would not question them, especially the order
that the chest not be opened under any circumstances. It was well that they had
come from the former prime minister, for had the pedantic German sent the
missives, Macbright would surely have tossed them and the package overboard.
The chest was
purposefully nondescript, an ordinary wooden crate that would, Macbright hoped,
be dismissed as containing ordinary supplies. It bore no distinguishing
markings but was tightly closed and secured in chains in the hold.
Having made a
quick inspection of the ship, Macbright returned to stand behind Willhite.
“The middle ship
is raising a flag,” Willhite said as he gazed through the spyglass.
“Describe it.”
“I can’t see the
whole of it yet. It’s black. Let’s see. It’s—it’s a devil skeleton, looks like,
holding an hourglass and pointing a spear at a bloody heart.”
“Bloody Christ!
Can you see the captain of the vessel?”
“Aye,” Willhite
replied. “Tall man, black hair and long beard. He’s carrying swords and guns
and—and it looks like he’s on fire! There’s smoke all around his head!”
“Christ, Christ, Bloody
Christ!”
“Wh—what is he?”
Willhite asked, lowering the telescope. “He’s a demon … or a warlock!”
“You don’t know
who that is, man?!” Macbright snapped, snatching the scope from his hand.
Willhite shook his
head.
Macbright peered
through the scope once more, studying the ship and its captain. Then he shook
his head, collapsed the glass and returned it to Willhite.
“You are green,
Willhite, and right now I’m glad of it. Keep your mouth shut and keep an eye on
that ship.”
Macbright mingled
with the passengers and quietly requested that they calm down and return to
their cabins and rest until it was time to land. This request, however, was
largely ignored.
The passengers
pressed against the rails trying to see the New World
and the welcoming ships.
When he heard one
passenger comment on the pirate flag the ship was flying, Macbright decided it
was time to at least attempt to take control.
“Ladies and
gentlemen,” he called over the hubbub. “If I may have your attention please.”
The crowd quieted
down and turned their attention to Macbright.
“Do not be
alarmed,” he began, “but we are about to be boarded. If we remain calm and do
as we are instructed, all will be well.”
Some of the
passengers gasped; women cried out and some even swooned. Male passengers shouted
angrily at Macbright and shook their fists at him as if it were his fault that
the raiders had lain in wait for them.
“We’ve got two
cannon!” one man shouted. “Let’s use them!”
This elicited a
chorus of agreeing shouts from many others.
Macbright motioned
with his hands for the crowd to be quiet.
“You can’t just
let them board us without putting up a fight!” one man blurted after the crowd
had quieted.
“Don’t be a damned
fool!” Macbright shouted back. “That’s the bloody Queen Anne’s Revenge
out there! She’s got forty gun, and if we put up a fight, she’ll sink us with
one volley!”
This news caused
the crowd to begin shouting and screaming anew. The panic that Macbright had
hoped to avoid set in full force. Passengers knocked each other down trying to
reach their cabins, and a few even jumped overboard. Macbright motioned for
some crewmen to fetch those who’d jumped and then yelled to get the attention
of the rest.
He blew a strong
blast on the whistle he carried on a chain around his neck, and this finally,
at least for a moment, settled the riot.
“Listen to me
people,” Macbright said in his most authoritative voice. “If we remain calm and
do as we are told, we’ll survive this assault. If we panic, scream, try to flee
or fight back, we’ll likely be keel hauled or hanged or both.
“Which would you
rather do, ladies and gentlemen—lose some of your wealth, which can be rebuilt
or lose your lives?
“Let’s keep our
heads here and try to survive.”
His last statement
was punctuated by his crewmen shoving the soggy deserters onto the deck.
Macbright motioned
the wet crewmen to him.
“There’s an
unmarked chest in the hold below, the last to be loaded before we set sail,” he
whispered to them. “Go down there and hide it somewhere as best you can.
Teach’s men are not to get their hands on it, do you hear me?”
The men nodded and
quickly disappeared down the hatch.
“What if they
decide to cut our throats anyway, Macbright?” a passenger shouted. “What then?”
Macbright strode
to the man and grabbed him by the collar.
“Listen and listen
well,” he snarled. “I’m an experienced seafarer, and I’ve survived encounters
like this before. Pirates—even bloody Blackbeard—want nothing more than booty.
If we give them what they want, they’ll send us on our way—a little lighter in
the pocket, mind you, but alive.
“Right now I don’t
give a bloody damn who it is you know back in jolly old England . Just keep your mouth shut
and do as I say.”
The passengers
fell silent and huddled together on the deck. Husbands pulled wives and
children close to them. Women clutched at their sobbing children.
Macbright had
succeeded in calming the crowd and regaining the control. He pulled himself
erect and smoothed his coat.
And just in time.
The Queen Anne’s Revenge was pulling even with them.
Blackbeard himself
stood at the prow, burning fuses sending smoke curling about his head. He held
a cutlass in one hand and a pistol in the other.
“Prepare to be
boarded!” he yelled across to the Edinburgh Venture.
Many female
passengers began to weep.
Crewmen from the
Revenge threw grappling hooks over and pulled the ships together. Blackbeard
and several of his crew jumped onto the deck of the Venture.
Blackbeard strode
to Macbright and looked him in the eye.
“I believe I know
you,” he told Macbright.
He thought a
moment.
“Well, Captain
Teach,” Macbright offered, “when you were signing on as a privateer for the
Queen, I was joining the ranks of Her Majesty’s Navy.”
“Ah, yes. The
Scot. Macbright?”
Macbright nodded.
“Well, Captain
Macbright,” Teach said, “I’m going to lighten your load a bit.”
He motioned his
men to the hold of the ship.
“And,” he added,
“I’m afraid I’m going to have to take some of your passengers for a brief stay
on my ship.”
“Now just a bloody
minute here, Teach!” Macbright started to protest but closed his mouth and set
his jaw.
“Don’t worry,
Captain Macbright,” Teach said. “I assure you no harm will come to them. I need
a little leverage against the good governor, and nothing less than your
passengers will do.”
While they
chatted, the crewmen of the Queen Anne’s
Revenge were busily emptying the hold of all its contents.
“In addition,”
Teach continued, “I require that you deliver a message to the governor for me.
Once my demands are met, you may return for the passengers. Agreed?”
Macbright took the
rolled up message from Teach. It bore a wax seal with the same design as the Revenge’s
flag. He clenched his teeth to still his trembling jaw.
“Agreed.”
Suddenly gunshots
rang out from the hold.
Teach’s grim
visage grew angry, and he thrust his pistol under Macbright’s chin.
“What in bloody
hell is going on here, Macbright?” He growled.
Two of Teach’s
crew emerged from the hold carrying an unmarked, padlocked chest.
“Two of his men
were guarding this,” one man said in a thick London accent.
“What is it?”
Teach demanded of Macbright.
“I don’t know. It
was turned over to us just as we were leaving port with two messages bearing Walpole ’s seal.”
“Walpole ?!”
“Yes,” Macbright
replied. “I don’t know what’s in it or why it was turned over to us, but I was
given explicit instructions to make sure it arrived at its destination at all
costs.”
Teach laughed
harshly.
“Perhaps it’s the
crown jewels,” he said, and his crew laughed heartily.
He motioned for
his men to carry on with the chest.
“In any event,” he
said, slipping the pistol back into his belt, “it’s reached its destination,
eh, Macbright? I’m sure it won’t be missed.”
Macbright
swallowed hard.
After the hold had
been emptied, Teach signaled for his crew to begin transferring passengers to
the Revenge. Many women resisted
fiercely, screaming and kicking, but eventually calmed down and allowed
themselves to be pulled over a wobbly plank to the other ship.
Macbright watched
silently through fiery eyes.
“Stop worrying,
Macbright,” Teach assured him. “No harm will come to them as long as the
governor does as we request. Mind you, it will be up to you to impress upon him
that I’ll follow through on my threats if he does not honor the bargain.”
When all of the
transfers had been made and the hold of the Venture thoroughly scoured,
Teach and his men returned to the Revenge with final instructions to
Macbright to seek out the governor and deliver the ransom demands.
Macbright immediately set sail and navigated past
Teach’s ships and into the Port
of Charleston .
* * * * *
“Which one you
reckon we’ll be taking first?” A swarthy deckhand asked, tossing a thick rope
over yard arm.
The other man,
whose skin was wrinkled and brown as leather, merely shrugged and went about
the business of securing the other end of the rope to the mast.
The men had fashioned
a noose and were making the last preparations for the first hanging. They were
testing the rope when the Venture reappeared in the distance. Some shook
their heads disappointedly. The wise among them, however, breathed a sigh of
relief.
As the Venture pulled alongside the QAR, it was grappled and the crew formed
a chain to haul the medical supplies they’d requested aboard. The business of
exchanging supplies and passenger was over in less than an hour’s time. The
passengers were sent back to Macbright’s ship over gangplanks, some staring at
the noose swinging under the yardarm.
With ample booty
and supplies in the holds of their ships, Teach and his men weighed anchor and
sailed north.
That night Teach
called Hand into his cabin.
“You called for
me, Captain?”
Teach wiped his
hands on a formerly pristine linen napkin and finished chewing the remains of
his ample dinner.
“Sit down, Hand,”
he said, motioning his first mate to a chair. “Best meal I’ve had in months.”
Hand nodded and
sat in the chair in front of Teach’s desk/dining/map table.
“Hand, you’ve been
with me since I took over the Queen
Anne’s Revenge, and I want you to
be a part of my plans. Now, the rest of these scurvy mongrels I wouldn’t trust
enough to turn my back on them for a glance through the spyglass. So I don’t
mind telling you I plan to double-cross the lot of them. And that bloody Bonnet
is an incompetent of the highest order; I’ve had my fill of his ineptitude.
“I’m retiring,
Hand, and I’m taking the booty with me. I don’t know what’s in that chest that Walpole wanted Macbright
to defend so stalwartly, but it’s a king’s ransom, I’ll warrant, and enough for
us to make a good living in the Colonies.”
He punctuated his
speech by downing a goblet of wine and then poured two more, handing one to
Hand.
“Anyway, Hand, I’m
asking you to back me up on my next maneuver. What’s in it for you is a cut of
whatever booty we’ve collected, including a share of what’s in the Walpole chest. All I’m
asking is for someone to watch my back and help me see the whole thing through.
“I want out, Hand.
I’ve pirated enough, and I want to settle down. I was only in it for the money,
anyway, and I’ve got plenty of that now.
“So, here’s to
retirement.”
With that, he held
up the goblet of wine.
Dumbfounded, Hand
raised his own goblet, and Teach clapped his against it and downed it all in
one long gulp.
Hand did the same,
knowing full well he’d just signed a bloody pact with the nefarious Blackbeard.
Teach belched
loudly and leaned forward.
“I tell you, Hand,
I’ve built quite a reputation now, haven’t I? Folks think I’m the devil
himself, and I’ve done all I could to foster that. You probably think me cruel
for the things of I’ve done, but I tell you I’ve done it all for one reason and
one reason only—to stay alive. Why, if a man thought he could defy me without
retribution, then I’d’ve been keelhauled years ago and drowned like a rat in a
bucket.
“No, no, not me.
“When Hornigold
took amnesty and turned the Concorde over to me, I knew then I’d have to
be a merciless bastard to stay alive. And that’s what I became.”
Hand sat silent
while Teach filled another goblet and drank more wine.
Teach then
abruptly swept the platter of food and empty wine bottle off the desk and
unrolled a map of the coast of the Americas .
“Here’s my plan,
Hand. Pay attention …”
And he proceeded
to reveal all to his first mate.
Hold of the Adventure
“He’s going to
bloody keelhaul us,” the stocky Mareth growled as he clenched and unclenched
his fists and paced the floor.
“Nah,” replied
Smoot, a wiry pickpocket with a quick sword and quicker wit, “he’d’ve done that
already. I’m guessing he’s going to turn us over to Eden .”
This sent a wave
of grumbling among the 25 men held prisoner in the hold of the Adventure.
“What’re we going
to do in the meantime,” one man snapped, “sit here and wait to be killed?”
Smoot flowed
lithely to his feet from the sack of flour on which he’d been resting.
“’Course not,” he
said looking about at the men who sat on crates or stood about wondering at
their fate. “We’re going to collect as much of this booty as we can and stow it
away.”
Some of the men
laughed.
Mareth flashed
Smoot an angry grin.
“And what good’ll
that do us rotting in a colonial jail?” He snarled.
Smoot shrugged.
“I don’t know that
that’s what Teach plans,” he replied, “but it’s a possibility. The other
possibility is that he’ll maroon us somewhere.”
“Maroon us?!”
Smoot nodded.
“Sure. He’s sent
Bonnet off to seek a pardon. When Bonnet returns, he’s sure to figure things
out and come looking for Teach and find us.”
More laughter.
“Look,” Smoot
beseeched, “Teach ain’t going to maroon us without supplies, and we’re sure to
be picked up by some ship along the way. All I’m saying is, if this is the
case, we’d be fools not to try to sneak some booty with us.”
A chorus of
agreement rose from the gathered crowd.
“Here’s what I
figure,” Smoot continued. “That chest that Macbright wanted to hide from Teach
is sitting right over there, and it’s likely filled with gold. I say we take it
out of that crate and put it in the supply crate Teach intended to drop with us
wherever he planned to unload us. If he does maroon us, then we’ve got a small
fortune to split up and live on. If he plans to jail us, then whatever we can
stuff in our pockets will be enough to bribe us out of jail. Either way, we’ve
got an insurance policy.”
Mareth smiled
again and started pushing crates aside to get at the hidden prize.
Several men joined
in the search, and they soon found the box that bore Walpole ’s mark.
Inside the crate
they found a smaller, padlocked chest with a parchment scroll tied to the lock.
Footsteps above
told them they didn’t have time to open the chest, so they heaved the whole
thing out of the crate and shoved it into one containing small sacks of flour and
wineskins.
Sunlight poured
into the hold.
“Come on out,”
First Mate Hand called down. “We’ve reached your new home. We’ve got swords and
guns, so don’t try anything.”
“Um … Sir,” Smoot
called, “what about supplies? Mightn’t we grab some food or something?”
Teach’s bearded
head appeared at the opening.
“Grab that crate
with the bloody flour and wine in it and get your arses out of that hold!” He
bellowed.
Smoot, Mareth and
company dutifully marched up the ladder and out onto the deck. A boat was
already in the water waiting for them. They stared out at a heavily wooded
coast.
“Nothing personal,
men,” Teach said. “It’s time for me to get out, and I’m making a clean break of
it. This island lies off the coast of the Carolinas .
If I guess correctly, Bonnet’ll be making his way in this direction in a few
day’s time. If you keep a signal fire burning, you’ll get picked up and be
safely aboard the Revenge soon.
“In the meantime, I bid you adieu and good luck.”
The men climbed
into the waiting boat, secured their precious cargo and began rowing for shore.
Teach signaled for
his crew to weigh anchor.
* * * * *
“You see, boys,”
Smoot said. “Now we can live like kings.”
After pulling the
boat out of the tide’s reach, the stranded men hauled their booty into the
trees.
Mareth pulled the
scroll from the padlock.
“Can anyone here
read?” He asked.
All but Smoot
shook their heads.
Mareth shrugged
and began to bang on the padlock with a rock.
Smoot, meanwhile,
unrolled the parchment and began to read it.
Mareth cursed
angrily at the stubborn lock and began pounding on it furiously. Finally, the
metal gave way and the lock broke open.
“Don’t!” Smoot
shouted just as Mareth threw open the chest with a greedy grin.
The smile fell
away from Mareth’s face.
Smoot backed
slowly away as the rest of the marooned crew pushed forward to view the riches
that lay inside.
Mareth screamed.
A shapeless thing
flew from the chest, engulfing Mareth’s face like a black cloth. The men pushed
and shoved at one another in an effort to flee into the woods.
Smoot turned and
ran for the boat waiting on the beach, clenching the parchment in one hand.
He could still
hear Mareth’s screams as he began to row out to sea.