BONNET AND GREENWAY PART COMPANY
It was three days after this memorable combat--for the vessels engaged
in it needed considerable repairs--when Mr. Rhett of Charles Town sailed
down the Cape Fear River with his five vessels--the two with which he
had entered it, the pirate Royal James, and the two prizes of the
latter, which had waited quietly up the river to see how matters were
going to turn out.
On the Henry sailed the pirate Thomas, now discovered to be the
notorious Stede Bonnet, and a very quiet and respectful man he was. As
has been seen before, Bonnet was a man able to adapt himself to
circumstances. There never was a more demure counting-house clerk than
was Bonnet at Belize; there never was an humbler dependent than the
almost unnoticed Bonnet after he had joined Blackbeard's fleet before
Charles Town, and there never was a more deferential and respectful
prisoner than Stede Bonnet on board the Henry. It was really touching to
see how this cursing and raging pirate deported himself as a meek and
uncomplaining gentleman.
There was no prison-house in Charles Town, but Stede Bonnet's wicked
crew, including Ben Greenway--for his captors were not making any
distinctions in regard to common men taken on a pirate ship--were
clapped into the watch-house--and a crowded and uncomfortable place it
was--and put under a heavy and military guard. The authorities were,
however, making distinctions where gentlemen of family and owners of
landed estates were concerned, no matter if they did happen to be taken
on a pirate ship, and Major Bonnet of Barbadoes was lodged in the
provost marshal's house, in comfortable quarters, with only two
sentinels outside to make him understand he was a prisoner.
The capture of this celebrated pirate created a sensation in Charles
Town, and many of the citizens were not slow to pay the unfortunate
prisoner the attentions due to his former position in society. He was
very well satisfied with his treatment in Charles Town, which city he
had never before had the pleasure of visiting.
The attentions paid to Ben Greenway were not pleasing; sometimes he was
shoved into one corner and sometimes into another. He frequently had
enough to eat and drink, but very often this was not the case. Bonnet
never inquired after him. If he thought of him at all, he hoped that he
had been killed in the fight, for if that were the case he would be rid
of his eternal preachments.
Greenway made known the state of his own case whenever he had a chance
to do so, but his complaints received no attention, and he might have
remained with the crew of the Royal James as long as they were shut up
in the watch-house had not some of the hairy cut-throats themselves
taken pity upon him and assured the guards that this man was not one of
them, and that they knew from what they had heard him say and seen him
do that there was no more determined enemy of piracy in all the Western
continent. So it happened, that after some weeks of confinement Greenway
was let out of the watch-house and allowed to find quarters for himself.
The first day the Scotchman was free he went to the provost-marshal's
house and petitioned an interview with his old master, Bonnet.
"Heigho!" cried the latter, who was comfortably seated in a chair
reading a letter. "And where do you come from, Ben Greenway? I had
thought you were dead and buried in the Cape Fear River."
"Ye did not think I was dead," replied Ben, "when I seized ye an' held
ye an' kept ye from buryin' yoursel' in that same river."
Bonnet waved his hand. "No more of that," said he; "I was unfortunate,
but that is over now and things have turned out better than any man
could have expected."
"Better!" exclaimed Ben. "I vow I know not what that means."
Bonnet laughed. He was looking very well; he was shaved, and wore a neat
suit of clothes.
"Ben Greenway," said he, "you are now looking upon a man of high
distinction. At this moment I am the greatest pirate on the face of the
earth. Yes, Greenway, the greatest pirate on the face of the earth. I
have a letter here, which was received by the provost-marshal and which
he gave me to read, which tells that Blackbeard, the first pirate of his
age, is dead. Therefore, Ben Greenway, I take his place, and there is no
living pirate greater than I am."
"An' ye pride yoursel' on that, an' at this moment?" asked Ben, truly
amazed.
"That do I," said Bonnet. "And think of it, Ben Greenway, that
presumptuous, overbearing Blackbeard was killed, and his head brought
away sticking up on the bow of a vessel. What a rare sight that must
have been, Ben! Think of his long beard, all tied up with ribbons, stuck
up on the bow of a ship!"
"An' ye are now the head de'il on earth?" said Ben.
"You can put it that way, if you like," said Bonnet, "but I am not so
looked upon in this town. I am an honoured person. I doubt very much if
any prisoner in this country was ever treated with the distinction that
is shown me, but I don't wonder at it; I have the reputation of two
great pirates joined in one--the pirate Bonnet, of the dreaded ship
Revenge, and the terrible Thomas of the Royal James. My man, there are
people in this town who have been to me and who have said that a man so
famous should not even be imprisoned. I have good reason to believe that
it will not be long before pardon papers are made out for me, and that I
may go my way."
"An' your men?" asked Greenway. "Will they go free or will they be hung
like common pirates?"
Bonnet frowned impatiently. "I don't want to hear anything about the
men," he said; "of course they will be hung. What could be done with
them if they were not hung? But it is entirely different with me. I am a
most respectable person, and, now that I am willing to resign my
piratical career, having won in it all the glory that can come to one
man, that respectability must be considered."
"Weel, weel," said the Scotchman; "an' when it comes that
respectabeelity is better for a man's soul an' body than righteousness,
then I am no fit counsellor for ye, Master Bonnet," and he took his
leave.
The next morning, when Ben Greenway left his lodging he found the town
in an uproar. The pirate Bonnet had bribed his sentinels and, with some
others, had escaped. Ben stood still and stamped his foot. Such infamy,
such perfidy to the authorities who had treated him so well, the
Scotchman could not at first imagine, but when the truth became plain to
him, his face glowed, his eye burned; this vile conduct of his old
master was a triumph to Ben's principles. Wickedness was wickedness, and
could not be washed away by respectability.
The days passed on; Bonnet was recaptured, more securely imprisoned, put
upon trial, found guilty, and, in spite of the efforts of the advocates
of respectability, was condemned to be hung on the same spot where
nearly all the members of his pirate crew had been executed.
During all this time Ben Greenway kept away from his old master; he had
borne ill-treatment of every kind, but the deception practised upon him
when, at his latest interview, Bonnet talked to him of his
respectability, having already planned an escape and return to his evil
ways, was too much for the honest Scotchman. He had done with this man,
faithless to friend and foe, to his own blood, and even to his own bad
reputation.
But not quite done. It was but half an hour before the time fixed for
the pirate's execution that Ben Greenway gained access to him.
"What!" cried Bonnet, raising his head from his hands. "You here? I
thought I had done with you!"
"Ay, I am here," said Ben Greenway. "I hae stood by ye in good fortune
an' in bad fortune, an' I hae never left ye, no matter what happened;
an' I told ye I would follow ye to the gates o' hell, but I could go no
farther. I hae kept my word an' here I stop. Fareweel!"
"The only comfortable thing about this business," said Bonnet, "is to
know that at last I am rid of that fellow!"