The Bahamian sea captain thought himself a vigilante, settling old scores with the French and Spanish. His policy was to board friendly vessels only as a last resort to acquire wine and spirits, ammunition, powder, navigational instruments, medicine, and other vital supplies, or to take on skilled crewmen. Bellamy and his second-in-command, Paulsgrave Williams, disagreed with such a narrow view, and La Buse and his mostly French crew also saw no reason to spare English vessels. In fact, while Hornigold had been away in Nassau and Thache in Jamaica, Bellamy and La Buse had plundered several British merchant ships loaded with treasure off the southern coast of Cuba. Hornigold was incensed to learn of their exploits upon his return to Hispaniola and that marked the beginning of the impasse.
In the past two days alone, four fat prizes had been spotted but still Hornigold had steadfastly refused to hoist the black flag, insisting that the consortium limit their attacks to the vessels of England’s former enemies, France and Spain. Now he had become openly defiant against the majority of men in the companies, and many saw him as behaving like a tyrant. Proud of his English roots, he continued to stick stubbornly to his policy of not robbing British ships, no matter how valuable a cargo they might carry. The arguments between the two camps were growing more heated every day, especially between Hornigold and his protégé Bellamy, and Thache knew something had to give.
An hour after the two ships had passed, with the ball of sun sinking fast on the horizon, the flotilla anchored in a protected bay on the western tip of Hispaniola to take fresh water. It was then Thache realized just how prescient he had been. With seething expressions on their faces, Bellamy and several of his key crew members were rowing over to his ship along with Hornigold’s quartermaster, William Howard. They obviously wanted to hold a council and vent their frustration. Gathering his chief lieutenants, Thache invited the group into his cabin, where he had two bottles of fine Jamaican rum waiting. While many pirate captains had to share their quarters with their officers and other seamen, Thache’s crew members insisted he take the expansive stern cabin beneath the quarterdeck, where he kept his navigational instruments and dozens of rolled-up cartographic maps of the Caribbean, Atlantic, and Gulf of Mexico. He also had a modest collection of books that included the complete collections of Thomas Aquinas, Geoffrey Chaucer, William Shakespeare, and Daniel Defoe, as well as Alexandre Olivier Exquemelin’s History of the Buccaneers of America, Woodes Roger’s A Cruising Voyage Round the World, and William Dampier’s A New Voyage Round the World, Voyages and Descriptions, and A Voyage to New Holland. Thache had received a first-rate education growing up in Jamaica and had long been an avid reader, particularly of maritime history and its colorful cast of characters.
As the men shuffled into his private cabin, Thache had the slightly younger Bellamy stand next to him so that the two of them could lead the discussion as equals. Like Thache, the twenty-seven-year-old Bellamy cut a tall, dashing figure. He wore a long deep-cuffed velvet coat, knee breeches, silk stockings, and silver-buckled shoes. For weaponry, he carried a sheathed cutlass on his left hip and a pair of pistols on his sash. In keeping with his egalitarian Robin-Hood’s-Men philosophy, he never wore a fashionable powdered wig, but grew his dark hair long and tied it back with a black satin bow. But what distinguished him most of all was the very same thing that set his host apart: he bore an unmistakable aura of command.
Once all eight men were packed into his quarters with a glass or tankard of rum in hand, Thache opened the proceedings to the thorny issue at hand. Since they were aboard his ship, he would be the one to run the meeting.
“Welcome aboard the Margaret, and I can only say I wish it were under better circumstances,” he said to begin the conference. “We all know what this is about because there’s been quite a bit of simmering this past week. And we also know that we have to come to an accord that is agreeable to the majority of the men in each company. So that is what this council is about. Now every man will get his chance to speak and every man will have an equal vote on how we proceed from here. But I think we should start with Master Howard since he is the quartermaster of the Adventure and is in the best position to tell us the current state of mind of Captain Hornigold and the crew. Any objections?”
There were none.
“All right, Mr. Howard, please begin.”
Howard gave a nod and took a half-step forward to address his audience. Like Henry Jennings, Thache, and Paulsgrave Williams, William Howard came from a well-to-do colonial family and was an educated man. As the son of a prominent North Carolina landholder, he ran in the same circles as the colony’s top two officials, Governor Charles Eden and Tobias Knight. This made him the opposite of Hornigold and Bellamy, who had been born penniless and had to scrape and scrounge their way up from the bottom to attain their pirate captaincies.
“I’m just going to lay it out for ye like a plate of supper, lads,” said Howard. “Tensions amongst the crew aboard our ship have reached a breaking point. The majority of the men agree with you, Sam, and with La Buse that we should be plundering English vessels just the same as the Spanish, Portuguese, and French. They believe the commodore is overlooking valuable prizes, and they’re not happy about losing the Benjamin and having to be crammed up in the smaller Adventure. The men want to put it to a vote and are considering breaking up the companies.”
“So that’s where matters stand?” asked Thache.
“Aye, but there’s more to it than that, Captain. They want to know which side you’ll take if it comes to a vote.”
“I’m afraid I can’t tell you that, Mr. Howard. But I will say that I’ve got nothing personal against taking ships of all nations. I know I haven’t been as outspoken on this matter as some of ye, but that don’t mean I agree with Hornigold’s way.”
“Fair enough, Captain. Then I suppose all I need to add is that I plan to put this to a vote to see who stands with Hornigold and who don’t. It may end up that he is deposed as commodore of the combined companies. He’s lost the confidence of most of our crew, and if I had to wager, I would say that many of them will vote for no limits on what ships we take and will want to join up with you, Captain Bellamy, or La Buse. But even though I stand before you now asking for a vote, I want you to know that doesn’t mean I will surrender my post as quartermaster and sign on with another ship.” He looked at all the faces. “I don’t know what the future holds—I have come here only to tell you the disposition of the crew and to see where Captain Thache stands.”
Thache nodded. “It will have to come down to a vote then.” He looked at Bellamy. “Sam, what are your thoughts on this matter?”
The young pirate captain took a moment to study his audience and clear his throat before speaking. “The first thing I have to say is that Hornigold’s way no longer works. Not only for me and my crew, but for the vast majority of seamen aboard each and every ship in this bay. I know the mind of La Buse and can speak for him as well. But it’s more than just Hornigold’s way don’t work no more. It’s that it be the wrong way, plain and simple. We’re freebooters and it’s our God-given right to plunder whatever we can store below our decks. Whether that plunder belong to an Englishmen, a Spaniard, or a Frenchie. An English ship’s as good a prize as any by my reckoning, and me and my crew won’t be holding back from giving chase no longer.”
“Aye, there’s no way around it any longer, mates,” agreed his second-in-command Paulsgrave Williams. “The time has come for a change.”
Bellamy nodded vigorously. “We’re rovers of the sea, and we live for plunder and the excitement of the chase,” he continued, his dark brown eyes suffused with raw passion. “But many of us also do all this for something bigger. That is what I want to talk to you about tonight. In my view, a man has got to sign the articles and go on the account for the right reasons. That’s what makes him a good man in the eyes of God even as he takes away from other men. I want you all to understand why I am willing to engage in piracy on the high seas, because it is the crux of the mat
ter.”
Here he paused, building up the moment, and Thache could feel the full power, conviction, and allure of the young man—and why his crew was so devoted to him and inspired by him.
“I didn’t go on the account to bring harm to men,” Bellamy went on, gesturing with his hands now, “for I scorn to do anyone a mischief who has led a fair and just life. But I do scorn all those who willingly submit to be governed by laws which rich men have made for their own security, for the cowardly whelps have not the courage otherwise to defend what they get by knavery.”
“Hear, hear!” rumbled several men. Thache couldn’t help but notice that Israel Hands and John Martin under his command were two of the loudest voices along with Hornigold’s own quartermaster, William Howard. They, too, were taken in by the charismatic young leader.
“Damn the crafty royal politicians, slaveholders, and greedy merchants—damn these men who take most everything in this world and leave only the crumbs for the rest of us. And equally damn those who serve them for they are but a parcel of hen-hearted numbskulls. They vilify us, the scoundrels do, when there is only this difference: they rob the poor under the cover of law, and we plunder the rich under the protection of our own courage. That is why we are freebooters, mates: to shake up this bloody hypocrisy and make the world right for all men!”
“Aye, we are Robin Hood’s men!” roared Paulsgrave Williams. “And damn proud of it, I say!”
“Huzzah, huzzah!”
“Aye, mates!”
“Damn King George and his scoundrels! Damn them for villains!”
The room swelled and rumbled for a full minute with wild cursing, cheering, and clanging cups, and Thache couldn’t help but smile. He found Black Sam Bellamy a flat-out inspiration, a voice that captured his sentiments precisely, and those of his own men aboard the Margaret. But at the same time, he knew that this situation had to be handled delicately. Hornigold was a fine sea captain and a brilliant leader, but most importantly the man had stood by them both. In the case of Bellamy, it could be argued that without the fulsome praise and support of Hornigold, who had given him his first prize sloop for outwitting his nemesis Jennings, he might very well still be paddling about in a tiny periauger, plundering fisherman and logcutters instead of one-hundred-ton sloops so packed with treasure that the water nearly reached the gunwales.
“Avast, you scurvy dogs!” he shouted over the din. “We need order!”
The men continued to roar like rebellious schoolboys. To quiet them down, he banged his pewter tankard on his map table.
“I call for order, damn you!”
This time, the men snapped obediently silent. He stood in front of them, pausing a moment to gather his thoughts, quietly inhaling and exhaling. “Well- spoken, Sam. Well-spoken indeed,” he said finally to the assembled group to break the silence. “Now who else would like to say some words?”
Paulsgrave Williams stepped forward. “William and Sam have spoken for all of us, it would seem. I don’t know if there are any words that can top what each man said. The main thing is that we’re all in agreement something has to be done. Which means we have to put this matter to a vote of all the companies.”
More head nods and murmurs of assent from the group.
Taking control as moderator once again, Thache said, “Aye, gentlemen, that is what must be done. In the Flying Gang, each man has a vote and every vote counts the same. It’s all spelled out in the articles each of us men here signed, and all of our crewmen as well. It doesn’t matter what country he once called home, the color of his skin, or what god he believes in. One man, one vote. And that is what we must now do.”
“Aye,” agreed Bellamy, and several others voiced their agreement. “The articles are our guide. That is given.”
“And when we vote, we have to make sure that we handle it right and fair. There can be no injustice done to the captain.” He looked sharply at Bellamy. “He’s been good to you and me, Sam.” He then waved expansively at Howard and the others. “In fact, he’s done right fair by all of us. Which is why we can in no way do him wrong if we take this to a vote and the majority wants him relieved of command. There has to be no doubt that it was fairly done.”
“Aye, by the blood of Henry Morgan we will make it so,” said Bellamy.
Thache surveyed the room. “Does every man here agree?”
Again, there were nods and murmurs of agreement all around.
“All right then, it’s time to call a meeting of all the companies and put this matter to a fair vote.”
Israel Hands looked at him. “When are we going to do it?”
“There be call to do it tonight for we can wait no longer. We’ll hold the meeting onshore around the fire, with plenty of rum to go around for everyone.”
“Then it will be settled,” said Bellamy. “Once and for all.”
Thache nodded. “Aye, Sam, then it will be settled. And whichever way it goes, we’re all going to have to abide by it. After all, that’s what the articles be for.”
CHAPTER 13
WINDWARD PASSAGE, WESTERN HISPANIOLA
AUGUST 15, 1716
CAESAR STARED INTO THE SNAPPING FIRE, feeling the pleasant effects of the rum while taking in the lingering aroma of boiled sea turtle. Bonfires lit up the beach and the companies had made soup from several tortoises that Thache’s and La Buse’s crews had managed to catch. A few minutes earlier, criers had come by each bonfire to announce there would a general meeting of the companies at the south end of the beach at the top of the hour. Caesar was well aware of the rancor amongst many of the crew members regarding Hornigold’s stubborn refusal to take British prizes. The commodore’s quartermaster, William Howard, Caesar’s Bath County cohort and associate of his owner Tobias Knight, was holding a council where a vote in accordance with the articles would be cast. Caesar only hoped there wouldn’t be fighting and bloodshed when the verdict was announced.
Five minutes later, he made his way along with his fellow black friend Richard Greensail and several other crewmen from the Margaret to the south end of the beach. Driftwood logs, thatches of palm, wooden stools, and a few canvas sheets had been laid out for the council. He and Greensail took a seat on a piece of gnarly driftwood near the front. The captains of each of the four ships stood quietly before the still-gathering group of two-hundred seamen, along with Howard, John Martin, and the other quartermasters. The men were quietly chatting, passing around bottles of wine and rum, and smoking red and white clay pipes.
They wore an eclectic mix of clothing, much of it literally taken off the backs of their captives. Perpetually on the move with little time to shop, pirates had fewer resources and greater needs than their counterparts on land and had to take what they could get when they could get it. For headgear, they wore black wool felt or cow-leather tricorn hats, knit “Monmouth” caps, and broad-brimmed Spanish hats cropped short on the sides and left long at the front. The remainder of their attire consisted of plain white gentleman’s shirts or checked seaman’s shirts, most of coarse linen and some encased by waistcoats; colored kerchiefs and cravats about necks; and narrow or wide seaman’s breeches, open or closed at the knee. In colder climes, they would wear short tarred seaman’s jackets called osnabrigs, medium-length coats, and a sprinkling of long coats, some of rich fabric with silver and gold lace and others consisting of cheap sackcloth. But today not one among them wore a jacket in the tropical heat and humidity of August. All carried more than one pistol, cartridge boxes, and cutlasses. Many had gold chains, strings of pearls, or other pillaged jewelry fastened about their necks. A few dozen bore “gunpowder spot” tattoos on hands and arms, created by pricking the skin with a needle and rubbing in crushed gunpowder or antimony for ink. For the most part, only the Africans and West Indians in the company wore a single silver or gold earring in their ears and cloth head wraps, but a few of the white sailors donned them as well.
Caesar waited for the council to begin. Next to a pair of glowing bonfires was a barrel o
f water, a crate of untapped liquor, and boxes of crackers. Someone, he could tell, was trying hard to pass this event off as a pleasant social gathering instead of the pirate power struggle that it truly was. But the men weren’t fooled: a somber mood filled the star-lit Hispaniola night. It was obvious they wanted to get on with the meeting so they could move on from the festering discord.
William Howard opened the proceedings.
“Mates,” he began in a booming voice that carried over the gentle lapping of the waves on the beach and the crackle of the bonfires. “We all know why we are here. Many of you aboard the Adventure, and others from the rest of the fleet, are sore. You’re sore because Captain Hornigold won’t let us take English prizes. You have asked me to put it to a vote, in accordance with the signed articles, whether we want to change this rule. If we vote to change it, then we’re also going to have to vote on how to handle the companies. Meaning who is in charge as commodore.” Here he looked at Hornigold. “I promised the captain that before we voted he would get to say his piece. Then after that we’ll hear what each man has to say. We’re going to conduct our affairs civilly, like grown men not children throwing a tantrum, and each quartermaster is responsible for the conduct of his crew. And whatever decision is made in the end, we abide by it, per the articles.”
As Howard stepped back, Hornigold stepped forward into the illumination of the bonfire. To Caesar, he clearly looked uncomfortable and irritated at being called before his own men, as if he was on trial by a jury of his peers. But he swallowed his pride and did it nonetheless. Caesar was reminded yet again what a great equalizer the articles were, for they held the captain to the same standards as ordinary crewman, making sure they were supported in their decision-making by the vast majority of their crew.
Blackbeard- The Birth of America Page 11