Off Alexander Spotswood’s Virginia coast, Bonnet reaped a rich harvest, taking several prizes in a week. From a sixty-ton sloop, he pilfered two hogsheads of rum, a hogshead of molasses, and two slaves. Two ships bound for Scotland laden with tobacco were relieved of part of their cargo. From a sloop headed to Bermuda he acquired twenty barrels of pork and some bacon, giving in return two barrels of rice and a hogshead of molasses. Another Glasgow-bound vessel yielded only combs, pins, and needles and in turn received a barrel of pork and two barrels of bread. Off Assateague Island, Bonnet stopped a North Carolina schooner from which calfskins were taken for gun covers. Discontinuing his pattern of releasing his prizes, he kept the schooner as a tender for supplies.
Contrary to the images of bloodthirsty cutthroats and barbarians being promulgated in the Boston News-Letter and printed leaflets promoted by representatives of the Crown, none of these encounters involved violence or injury. Blackbeard had taught him well. Bonnet may not have mastered the art of seamanship, but he had become quite adept at obtaining the surrender of his victims with piratical bravado and bluster.
But he was still a wreck of a man. Though he felt brief flourishes of excitement whenever they took a prize, regained some lost confidence with every vessel taken, and reveled along with his crew in the success of the company, he was still for the most part an outcast on his own ship. He was lonely and miserable and immersed himself deeply in his books when he wasn’t required to be on deck and play the glorified role of captain.
Though years had passed since his son’s death, he still couldn’t get young Allamby’s face out of his mind. He often remembered back to the burial at St. Michael’s churchyard on Barbados. He would never forget the sight of the tiny coffin being placed into the ground and covered up with soil. The smallness of the wooden casket and headstone seemed to underscore how pointedly unfair the whole thing was. Sons were not meant to die before their fathers, and certainly not his favorite child. He had been an adorable, ruddy-cheeked baby, a gift of God, and Bonnet would never forget him. Somehow, a part of him had died that very day his son had been taken from the world, and he had never recovered.
And now he was stuck on a ship with men he didn’t give a lick about, an outlaw on the run being hunted by the Admiralty, a man who had been given a reprieve only to give it up and seal his own death warrant. As he continued to gaze out from the larboard railing at the rolling sea and wind-chopped waves, he felt the whole crushing force of it all pushing against his chest. He felt doomed, utterly doomed. All he was doing was hanging on by a slender thread while his men got drunk on rum punch and pretended to be merry. But there was nothing to be merry about in this cursed world, not for Major Stede Bonnet of Barbados.
For without the King’s reprieve he knew he was ruined. And his account with the devil would be settled sooner rather than later.
CHAPTER 45
BATH TOWN
JULY 14, 1718
“I BELIEVE YE WILL FIND YOUR PAPERS IN ORDER, CAPTAIN,” said Governor Charles Eden, nodding towards the two neat piles of paperwork on the corner of his desk. “When do you plan to set sail for St. Thomas?”
Without responding, Thache took the pile of signed pardons and began looking them over. He needed a moment to gather his thoughts before answering, wanting to make sure he didn’t outright lie to the governor or say more than he should. They were sitting along with Tobias Knight in the wood-paneled office of the governor’s townhouse at 22-23 Bay Street. Tied to the hitching post outside the two-story, wood-framed house were Eden’s and Knight’s handsome roans, their tails swishing and swatting at the swarms of ravenous deer flies feeding on their horseflesh. It was an oppressively hot midsummer’s day, but a refreshing breeze trickled in from the cool waters of Town Creek to provide some respite through the open windows.
In their three weeks of forging a bond of friendship, Thache and the governor had come to an understanding. Eden would issue pardons to the pirate captain’s men and in return he and his colony would receive an influx of gold dust, hard currency, and much-needed slaves and provisions. It was also tacitly understood that the governor would refrain from asking too many questions about where the “treasure” came from. In addition, the colony’s Vice-Admiralty Court, upon which sat both Eden and Knight, would recognize Thache as the legal owner of the Spanish sloop captured by him north of Havana, Cuba, in April 1718 and now named the Adventure. Protected by Eden and Knight, Thache and his men would live free from fear of arrest and the pirate captain would have at his disposal an eighty-ton sloop that he legally owned and could use for legitimate commerce.
Blackbeard and twenty-five other men, including six free black pirates, were planning on remaining with the Adventure, which would divide its time between Bath and Ocracoke Island. Many of the original Bath County men, as well as a few others, were planning giving up a life at sea altogether, settling down in Bath, and going on to build homes, raise families, and lead honest lives. The remainder was planning on leaving North Carolina for Virginia, Pennsylvania, or New York.
Thus far during his stay in Bath, Blackbeard had diverted himself by going ashore amongst the planters, where he shared bottles of rum and regaled them with seafaring tales, which they couldn’t seem to get enough of. Though Thache found that he and his men were well received from Eden, Knight, and the other townspeople, there was still an undercurrent of tension between the two sides. He couldn’t tell whether they enjoyed spending time with him out of genuine affection or fear. But there was no doubt they enjoyed listening to his stories. His only slightly embellished tales of roguish high adventure on the high seas had garnered great interest in several private Bath homes and its two ordinaries.
“My men look forward to sailing south and applying for privateering letters of marque from the Danish governor on the island,” responded Thache to the governor’s question, “and we thank you for your letter of support. But we still have quite a bit of outfitting to do. I expect to weigh anchor by late-August.”
“Late-August? So you will be guests of our colony for another month then?”
“Aye, that would be my best estimate, given our current situation. Of course, going forward we won’t be staying in Bath full time, but rather splitting our time between your fine town and Ocracoke Island, where we will refit the Adventure in preparation for making sail for St. Thomas. Is the governor implying that it would be best if we leave Bath sooner?”
“No, not at all,” said Eden, taking a delicate sip of brandy. “You and your men have shown exemplary behavior during your three week stay here in Bath. There was just the incident last Saturday night. It was but a minor disorder.”
He frowned. “I regret to say I wasn’t informed,” he said, trying to conceal his irritation. The last thing he wanted was for his men to blow the whole plan.
“As the governor said, it was a trifle,” said Tobias Knight.
“What happened, if I may so inquire?”
“There was a loud, profane disagreement over a woman that escalated into a drunken brawl at one of the ordinaries, but it was over as quickly as it began.”
Eden nodded. “As long as there are no further incidents we don’t foresee a problem. A quick word with your crew about the incident should be enough.”
“Aye, I will do just that. I offer you my apologies on behalf of me crew. They can get overly excited and forget their manners, especially when on land.”
“Again, it’s nothing to worry yourself about. Once you have a word with them, I’m sure that will be the end of it,” said Eden.
Thache was fortunate his crew had been on its best behavior the past three weeks and there had been but the one incident during their stay. The town was so small that with their arrival the population had doubled, and it was a wonder they hadn’t gotten into worse mischief. It helped that he and most of his crew were sleeping aboard the Adventure, or there probably would have been more incidents. They had chosen to forsake the muggy rooms of Bath’s ordinaries for the pl
easant evening breezes and peaceful rocking of their sixty-five-foot Spanish sloop.
The governor took another sip of brandy. “There is one thing we did want to discuss with you before your departure, Captain.”
Thache detected a trace of tension in his voice, but forced himself to give his most relaxed expression. “And what would that be, Governor?”
Eden nodded towards the stack of pardons. “Though we all know that the pen is truly mightier than the sword, I would advise you not to put too much faith in these pieces of parchment signed by me proclaiming that you and your men have received His Majesty’s complete forgiveness.”
“Why is that, Governor?”
“Because by now the whole country knows that you and your men led the blockade of Charles Town in May and are, therefore, technically outside of the bounds of the terms of His Majesty’s forgiveness. Don’t be alarmed—I just want you to understand why Esquire Knight and I here have been willing to give you the benefit of the doubt in these dangerous times. The Boston News-Letter recently published an article on the affair off the Charles Town bar. It is said that you held some of the citizens for a ransom of medicine on behalf of your crew. So we know you and your men were there, and as you know, the King’s pardon only covers acts of piracy committed before January 5 of this year.”
Thache gulped. What could he possibly say to that? He was caught red-handed and certainly couldn’t deny it. That would be disrespectful to the governor and to Knight, who was studying him closely. Though the customs collector was thin as a rail, carried a sickly yellow hue, and was suffering from the fever, the gleam in his eyes revealed great mental acuity and a strong constitution.
“Once again, there is no reason to worry, Edward,” said the governor. “We are not here to persecute you. We wouldn’t have issued pardons if we didn’t believe that you and your crew, or at least a substantial portion thereof, are serious about giving up your piratical ways. But we want you to know that we have taken grave risk on your behalf—and we have done so not because of the substantial sum of gold dust you have added to our coffers. We have a strong motivation for protecting you and we think it is important for you to know what that motivation is, in the hopes that ye will be careful going forward and give our relationship the proper discretion and respect it deserves.”
“I understand that you gentlemen have gone out on a limb for me, so to speak, and I will do my best to honor our arrangement.”
“Good, that’s what we like to hear,” said the hollow-cheeked Knight after taking a sip of his own brandy. “Now there are three very good reasons why we have been willing to turn a blind eye to your past transgressions and offer you and your men pardons. The first is many of your crewmen are native sons of Bath County, and the governor and I, well, we protect our own. We are the ones who sent them down to the Florida wrecks in the first place, so we must reap what we sow, so to speak. The second is that our economy here in North Carolina is, as you know, in shambles and you and your men have brought in much-needed coin of the realm, gold dust, and African slave labor for our plantations. We have been hard hit by restrictive trade laws, Indian wars, drought, sickness, and political and religious strife; and we suffer compared to our neighbors to the north and south through our lack of navigable deepwater ports and access to a workforce of slaves. The substantial amount of silver and gold you have generously given to the governor and myself has enabled us to take a certain risk on your behalf. But even more important is the money you and your men have delivered into the region along with the slaves and countless provisions you have brought. With the fifty Africans you have delivered safely to Bath, you have helped offset some of our financial difficulties, both through your personal gifts and spending and your men’s land purchases in the region using the slaves as collateral.”
Here Governor Eden jumped in to further emphasize the point, “Anyone who can bring viable commerce to our beleaguered colony as you have, Captain, has to be taken seriously. It is as simple as that.”
Thache was sympathetic to their situation and realized just how fortunate he was to have surrendered to them instead of Governor Johnson of South Carolina, who had offered him the King’s pardon, or some other British bureaucrat. These men were merely doing the best they could for themselves and their colony under difficult circumstances, which gave them added virtue in his eyes.
“And what is your third reason for treating me with such equanimity, gentlemen?” he asked.
“We’ve met you before on two occasions.”
“Aye, I remember.”
“Though we did not get to know you well, we both liked what we saw of you when you were a young mate sailing out of Philadelphia.”
He grinned through his dark-black, heavily braided beard. “It was only three or four years ago. I’m not that much older now.”
“Oh, but you have seen so much more of the world since then, Edward, and have grown considerably,” said Eden. “But we saw what you would become even back then. We saw a natural leader who was familiar with our water ways and perhaps one day could help us bring commerce to Bath Town. Because of your two prior visits, we had some familiarity with you that has raised our comfort level, so to speak, to issue pardons to you and your men. I’m not sure we would have done it if we didn’t know you personally, even if only on a cursory level.”
“I appreciate your honesty, gentlemen.”
“And we appreciate yours, Edward,” said Knight. “So how did you decide to come forward and surrender? What made you think you could trust us?”
“Why William Howard, John Martin, and the other Bath County men, of course. They’ve always spoken well of you. That and the fact that I had met you two before. Like you, I felt a certain amount of trust in being familiar with you. You were not faceless bureaucrats that I would have to charm and offer a rich lode of fine silks, jewels, and gold. Ye were men who could be trusted to do what was best for your colony and returning Bath County sons.”
“Yes well, I am glad it has worked out for the best,” said the governor, and they fell into silence.
Lighting his white clay pipe, Thache thought of what had been accomplished thus far here in Bath and what remained to be done before he set sail for Philadelphia to see his beloved Margaret and then headed south for St. Thomas. He was refraining from telling the governor and Knight his precise plans because he didn’t want them to think he might return to his plundering ways and revoke the pardons. Upon his arrival, his first action had been to address the allocation of plunder to the crew in accordance with the articles. Under Blackbeard, the captain received two shares; the quartermaster one and three-quarter shares; and the navigator, master gunner, carpenter, sailmaker, and bosun one-and-one-quarter shares. Common sailors like Caesar received one share per man. The second and more critical item had been to determine what portion of the plunder would be allocated to Eden and Knight to obtain the necessary pardons and sanctuary in Bath for his crew members. To accomplish these objectives, a portion of the fifty slaves were divided amongst the pirates in shares based on a man’s role aboard the ship in the same manner they parceled out the silver, gold dust, and other prized possessions taken at sea. The crew members then used the slaves to make land purchases in and around Bath, or gain hard currency. In the end, a new much-needed labor force was transferred from the Adventure into Eden’s reeling proprietary colony. And, as Thache knew from Caesar and Howard, the Africans taken from La Concorde gained a better life than they would have if they had remained in the Caribbean. Though still slaves, they would be treated far better in the fledgling North Carolina settlement by men like Tobias Knight than they would be in the sweltering sugarcane fields of Guadeloupe, Martinique, or Saint Domingue, where death from tropical diseases was astronomically high.
The governor was gifted Thache’s designated six slaves, Knight two slaves, and the officers and crew members one to four depending on their rank of authority aboard the Adventure. William Howard was awarded four slaves, two of whom he had
sold and two he had taken with him to visit his father’s three-hundred-twenty-acre plantation overlooking the Pamlico River ten miles east of Bath. For the rest of Blackbeard’s inner circle, many of whom were the sons of Pamlico plantation owners, their shares of the Adventure’s human treasure were transferred to their families and plantations. The slaves joined the households of the Marrins, Jacksons, Millers, Curtices, Daniels, and other families of Bath County. As Thache had correctly surmised based on what Caesar, Howard, and the other Bath County men had told him, an African labor force was the one “treasure” that was most desired on the plantations of the Pamlico River and worth more than a chest of gold, silver, and jewels. Of course, the arrival of a ship full of slaves at the mouth of Town Creek in the summer of 1718 was no accident—Edward Thache and his Bath County pirates had planned on it for six months, since they had first taken La Concorde and learned of the King’s pardon.
“When do you plan to make your way back down to Ocracoke?” asked the governor, pulling him from his thoughts.
“I believe we will set sail tomorrow.”
“With pardons in hand,” said Tobias Knight.
“Aye,” said Thache, blowing out a puff of bluish gray smoke. “I can’t thank you enough for what you’ve done, gentlemen. I know not all of my men will honor these most gracious pardons, but most I believe will. And it is for those men that this act of forgiveness means everything.”
“Thank you, Captain. We are pleased to have done your men a good service—and equally pleased with the gifts of commerce you have brought into our colony. You have already improved our financial standing for the year.”
“Before you leave, I would like to host a send-off dinner for you along with Tobias and me tonight,” said the governor. “Would that suit ye, Captain?”
Blackbeard- The Birth of America Page 34