THE HAUNTS OF BLACKBEARD
The name of the famous pirate, Teach, or Blackbeard, as he was
familiarly known, plays a conspicuous part in the early history of North
Carolina, and survives in many local traditions on our coast.
Many spots along our sounds and rivers have been honey-combed by diggers
after the pirate's buried hoard. Tradition says that it was the gruesome
custom of those fierce sea robbers to bury the murdered body of one of
their own band beside the stolen gold, that his restless spirit might
"walk" as the guardian of the spot. And weird tales are still told of
treasure seekers who, searching the hidden riches of Teach and his band,
on lonely islands and in tangled swamps along our eastern waterways,
have been startled at their midnight task by strange sights and sounds,
weird shapes and balls of fire, which sent the rash intruder fleeing in
terror from the haunted spot.
Hardly a river that flows into our eastern sounds but claims to have
once borne on its bosom the dreaded "Adventure," Blackbeard's pirate
craft; hardly a settlement along those streams but retains traditions of
the days when the black flag of that dreaded ship could be seen
streaming in the breeze as the swift sails sped the pirates by, on
murder and on plunder bent. Up Little River that flows by George
Durant's home down to the broad waters of Albemarle Sound, Teach and his
drunken crew would come, seeking refuge after some bold marauding
expedition, in the hidden arms of that lovely stream. Up the beautiful
Pasquotank, into the quiet waters of Symons Creek and Newbegun Creek,
the dreaded bark would speed, and the settlers along those ancient
streams would quake and tremble at the sound of the loud carousing, the
curses and shouts that made hideous the night.
On all these waters "Teach's Light" is still said to shed a ghostly
gleam on dark, winter nights; and where its rays are seen to rest,
there, so the credulous believe, his red gold still hides, deep down in
the waters or buried along the shore.
A few miles down the Pasquotank from Elizabeth City, North Carolina,
there stands near the river shore a quaint old building known as "The
Old Brick House," which is said to have been one of the many widely
scattered haunts of Blackbeard. A small slab of granite, circular in
shape, possibly an old mill wheel, is sunken in the ground at the foot
of the steps and bears the date of 1709, and the initials "E.T."
The ends of the house are of mingled brick and stone, the main body of
wood. The wide entrance hall, paneled to the ceiling, opens into a large
room, also paneled, in which is a wide fire-place with a richly carved
mantel reaching to the ceiling. On each side of this mantel there is a
closet let into the wall, one of which communicates by a secret door
with the large basement room below. Tradition says that from this room a
secret passage led to the river; that here the pirate confined his
captives, and that certain ineffaceable stains upon the floor in the
room above, hint of dark deeds, whose secret was known only to the
underground tunnel and the unrevealing waters below.
Standing on a low cliff overlooking the Pasquotank, whose amber waters
come winding down from the great Dismal Swamp some ten miles away, the
old house commands a good view of the river, which makes a wide bend
just where the ancient edifice stands. And a better spot the pirate
could not have found to keep a lookout for the avenging ship that should
track him to his hiding place. And should a strange sail heave in sight,
or one which he might have cause to fear was bringing an enemy to his
door, quickly to the secret closet near the great mantel in the banquet
hall would Blackbeard slip, drop quietly down to the basement room
beneath, bending low, rush swiftly through the underground tunnel, slip
into the waiting sloop and be off and away up the river or down,
whichever was safest, out of reach of the enemy.
But though many of the streams and towns in the Albemarle region retain
these traditions of Blackbeard, in little Bath, the oldest town in North
Carolina, can the greatest number of these tales be heard; and with good
reason, for here in this historic village, the freebooter made his home
for a month or so after he had availed himself of the king's offer of
pardon to the pirates who would surrender themselves and promise to give
over their evil mode of life.
This ancient village, founded in 1705, is situated on Bath Creek, by
which modest name the broad, beautiful body of water, beside which those
early settlers built their homes, is called. The banks of the creek are
high and thickly wooded, rising boldly from the water, in striking
contrast with the low, marshy shores of most of our eastern rivers.
Near the shores of the creek, just outside the town, there is still to
be seen a round brick structure resembling a huge oven, called Teach's
Kettle, in which the pirate is said to have boiled the tar with which to
calk his vessels. Across the creek from the town are the ruins of "the
Governor's Mansion," where, it is claimed, Governor Eden died. In an
old field a short distance from the mansion is a deep depression filled
with broken bricks, which was the governor's wine cellar. Nearly on a
line with this, at the water's edge, is shown the opening of a brick
tunnel, through which the Pirate Teach is said to have conveyed his
stolen goods into the governor's wine cellar for safe keeping. That
Governor Eden, for reasons best known to himself, winked at the pirate's
freebooting expeditions, and that there was undoubtedly some collusion
between Blackbeard and the chief magistrate of the State, was generally
believed; though Eden vehemently denied all partnership with the
freebooter.
To the latter class of narrative the following thrilling tale, which
combines very ingeniously the various points of historic interest in
Bath, must, it is to be feared, belong. The story goes that Blackbeard,
with the consent of her father, was suing for the hand of Governor
Eden's daughter. The young lady, for the excellent reason that she
preferred another and better man, declined absolutely to become the
pirate's bride.
Finally, in a desperate attempt to elude his pursuit, Miss Eden bribed
two of her father's slaves to row her across the creek in the dead of
the night to Bath. Here she took refuge in the "Old Marsh House" with
her friend, Mrs. Palmer, whose memorial tablet is now in St. Thomas
Church at Bath, the oldest house of worship in the State.
Teach, infuriated at the lady's continued rejection of his suit, put out
to sea on one of his piratical excursions. The prize he captured on this
occasion was Miss Eden's lover, his hated rival. The story goes that
Blackbeard cut off one of the hands of the unfortunate captive, threw
his body into the sea, and enclosing the gruesome relic in a silver
casket, as if it were some costly gift, sent it with many compliments to
his lady love. When the unfortunate maiden opened the casket and saw the
ghastly object she uttered a terrible shriek and swooned from horror;
then, as was the fashion in the old romances, pined slowly away and died
of a broken heart.
Now, at first blush, it seems that this interesting tale has enough
corroborating evidences of its veracity to pass down to the coming ages
as true history. A visitor to Bath can see for himself every one of the
places mentioned in the story. The tablet in old St. Thomas Church
testifies in many a high-sounding phrase the many virtues of Miss Eden's
friend, Mrs. Margaret Palmer; and the "Old Marsh House" is still
standing, a well preserved and fascinating relic of the past, where the
above lady is said to have sheltered her friend. We speak of facts as
hard and stubborn things, but dates are as the nether millstone for
hardness. And here are the rocks on which our lovely story shatters:
Teach was captured and beheaded in 1718; Mrs. Palmer's tablet reports
her to have been born in 1721, and the Marsh House was not built until
1744. The story is a beautiful instance of the way in which legends are
made.
After so much that is traditional, a brief sketch of the pirate's life
may not be amiss. According to Francis Xavier Martin's History of North
Carolina, Edward Teach was born in Bristol, England. While quite young
he took service on a privateer and fought many years for king and
country with great boldness. In 1796 he joined one Horngold, one of a
band of pirates who had their rendezvous in the Bahamas, taking refuge
when pursued, in the sounds and rivers of North Carolina.
On his first cruise with the pirate, Teach captured a sloop, of which
Horngold gave him the command. He put forty guns on board, named the
vessel "Queen Anne's Revenge," and started on a voyage to South America.
Here Teach received news of the king's proclamation of pardon for all
pirates who would surrender themselves. So, having collected much
plunder, and wishing to secure it, he came to North Carolina. With
twenty of his men he proceeded to Governor Eden's house, surrendered
himself and received the king's pardon.
Soon after, Blackbeard married a young girl, his thirteenth wife, and
settled down near Bath with the intention, apparently, of becoming a
peaceable citizen; but his good resolutions were soon broken; "being
good" did not appeal to the bold sea rover, and soon he was back again
on the high seas, pursuing unchecked his career of plunder.
Finally, the people in desperation, finding Governor Eden either unable
or unwilling to put an end to the pirate's depredations, appealed to
Governor Spotswood, of Virginia, for aid, and the pirate was finally
captured and beheaded by Lieutenant Maynard, whom Spotswood put in
command of the ship that went out to search for this terror of the seas.
Seen through the softening haze of two centuries, the figure of the
redoubtable sea robber acquires a romantic interest, and it is not
surprising that many good and highly respected citizens of eastern North
Carolina number themselves quite complacently among the descendants of
the bold buccaneer.