how many angry captains appealed to the governor for redress and
protection, nothing was done; and Teach held sway. Things assumed
such a pass that a deputation of captains was sent to the Governor
of Virginia, to request that steps should be taken against Teach. In
the James River were two men-o’-war, the _Lima_ and the _Pearl_, and
two sloops were manned by sailors from the warships under command of
Lieutenant Maynard, of the _Pearl_. Then, after a proclamation offering
rewards for the apprehension, dead or alive, of the pirates, the sloops
set out for where the pirates were at anchor in the Okercok inlet, in
the James River. Maynard had taken the precaution to stop all vessels
from going up the river, lest news of his coming should be given the
pirates. Governor Eden, aware of the expedition, sent four pirates from
Bath Town to warn Teach what was afoot. The pirate, however, had had
several other warnings, which he refused to believe, and he took the
news the governor sent him with a grain of salt. The result was that
Maynard was able to get within sight of the pirate vessels without
hindrance. And then Teach believed!
Roaring out orders to the twenty-five men on board, he quickly cleared
for action, determined to show fight. Then, when all was ready, he
calmly sat down to supper and a carousal, knowing that the shoals were
too dangerous for Maynard to attempt cutting him out till daylight came.
Hardly waiting for the sun to rise, Maynard next morning sent a boat
ahead to take soundings in the intricate channel, and drew near to the
pirate ship. Within gunshot, he was subjected to a heavy fire by Teach,
who, when the sloops hoisted the King’s colours and raced at him with
sail and oar, cut cable and tried to make a running fight of it. He
brought all his big guns to bear upon the sloops, but these pushed on
through the hail of shot, and, having no guns mounted, kept up a rain
of small-arm fire. They hung on like leeches, dodged the pirate, and
made him dodge to such an extent that Teach was at his wit’s end what
to do, and at last ran ashore. Maynard’s sloop was of deeper draught
than the pirate, and could not get near until the ballast was flung
overboard and the water-casks staved in. Then, lightened considerably,
she was able to get close enough to Teach to make him uncomfortable.
“Who are you?” yelled Blackbeard. “Where are you from?”
“We’re no pirates,” retorted Maynard, “as you can see by our colours.”
“Send a boat, then, so that I can see who you are,” said Teach.
“Sorry,” answered Maynard, “but I can’t spare a boat. I’ll come aboard
with the sloop, however, as soon as I can!”
“Seize my soul,” cried Teach, quaffing wine, “if I give you quarter, or
take any from you!”
A sentiment with which Maynard told him he heartily agreed.
The pirate ship was now afloat again, and the battle started once
more. As the sloops were no more than a foot high in the waist the
crews were exposed to fire as they tugged at the oars; and Teach took
advantage of this. He discharged a whole broadside of small shot, which
killed twenty men on Maynard’s ship and nine on the other, which was
disabled, and fell astern as the pirate vessel went broadside to the
shore in order to present but one flank to attack. Maynard, fearing
another broadside, ordered his men below, and he and the helmsman alone
remained on deck as the sloop ran alongside the pirate.
Down below Maynard’s men were ready for the word of command that should
send them scrambling up the pirate’s side. Up on Teach’s deck men lined
the side with hand grenades made of case-bottles filled with powder,
slugs, small shot, and fired with a quick-match; and as the sloop came
alongside these were hurled down into her.
Teach, looking over, saw only Maynard and the helmsman alive, with many
dead men lying about the deck, and, thinking that he had effectively
put them out of the fight, cried to his men:
“They’re all knocked on the head except three or four. Let’s jump in
and cut the rest to pieces!”
Down into the sloop, therefore, went Teach and fourteen of his
cut-throats, expecting an easy triumph. The smoke from the grenades
obscured things so that Maynard could not see what had happened; but
as it cleared away, and he realised that he had been boarded, he called
upon his men, who swarmed up on deck and fell like an avalanche upon
the pirates.
Maynard tackled Blackbeard himself. The two fired simultaneously, and
Teach was wounded slightly, but not badly enough to prevent him from
engaging in some sword play with Maynard. In the midst of that fighting
crowd the two men fought hard and long, neither gaining much advantage,
until at last Maynard’s sword snapped in two, and he seemed at the
mercy of the pirate. He stepped back quickly, cocked his pistol; but
ere he could fire Blackbeard had swung down upon him with his cutlass.
For a moment it seemed that Maynard was done, but, with a yell, one of
his men hurled himself at Teach, slashed at him with a cutlass that
gashed his throat and neck and put him off his stroke, so that Maynard
received only a slight wound on his finger.
Still the fight went on, thirteen men against fifteen, the odds in
favour of the pirates. The deck was slippery with blood; men whom the
firing had laid low were trampled upon as the yelling, cursing, hacking
crowd swayed this way and that. Now the fight seemed to be going in
favour of the pirates, now of the royal crew; and Teach cheered on his
men savagely, cursing them, exhorting them.
Blackbeard, although wounded in several places, was a game scoundrel,
and kept on with the fight; he was literally covered with pistols,
which he kept drawing and firing; and when the fight ended he was
smothered with wounds--twenty-five of them! And one wound was mortal,
for he dropped dead to the deck, to keep eight of his fourteen company
in death. The other six flung themselves overboard, but were captured.
Then, the second royal sloop coming up, the remainder of the pirates on
the big sloop were attacked, and after a stiff fight they surrendered.
When the vessel was captured, it was found that Teach had arranged for
it to be blown up, with its living freight, as soon as Maynard boarded
her; and the negro who had had the task allotted to him was with
difficulty dissuaded from carrying it out when he found out that Teach
had been killed.
Blackbeard’s head was cut off and hung at the bowsprit end of the royal
sloop, which sailed with it to Bath Town, where Maynard, having found
papers incriminating Governor Eden, forced that gentleman to return the
spoils that Teach had given him; and in due course sailed back to the
men-o’-war with fifteen prisoners, who were brought to justice.
* * * * *
Captain Howell Davis, who adopted much the same tactics as the old
buccaneers, mutinied against his captain and assumed command of the
ship, which he turned into a pirate craft. After several little
affairs, in which he gained much treasure and many reinforcements
of men, till he had seventy under him, he aimed at something higher
than merely holding up ships on the seas. He thought he would like to
capture Gambia Castle, on the coast of Guinea, a place where there was
always a good store of money. Sailing in, he sent all his men below,
except a few who were needed to work the ship, and, coming to anchor
under the fort, hoisted out a boat, manned it with six men dressed like
any ordinary sailormen, and sent the doctor and the master with them as
merchants.
The governor, named Foyle, had seen the ship come in, and sent a
company of soldiers down to the shore to welcome the new-comers, who
were taken into the castle, where the governor greeted them kindly.
The pirates lied glibly, telling the governor that they were from
Liverpool, bound for Senegal, but, having been chased by a couple
of French men-o’-war, had put in at Gambia for safety. Would the
governor trade with them for slaves? Gathering that the merchants had
a large cargo of plate and iron, the governor agreed to barter, asking
incidentally whether they had any liquor aboard. Davis said they had,
and promised him a hamper for his own use, if he would care to accept
it.
Overwhelmed at the generosity, the governor invited Davis and his
comrades to dinner with him; Davis accepted, but said that he must go
on board first to see that everything was all right. He would return in
time for dinner, bringing the liquor with him.
Davis had been taking notes of everything in the fort, and when he got
back to his ship was able to assure his rascally crew that before night
the fort would be in their possession--if they didn’t get drunk. They
promised to be good, and to send twenty men on shore directly they saw
the flag of the fort struck--the signal that Davis had captured it.
Davis took the precaution, in the evening, of securing the crew of a
little sloop that lay in the harbour, lest they should hear anything
and give warning to the governor.
Then, taking the hamper of liquor, Davis entered his boat, which had a
number of men in it, each armed with two pairs of pistols, carefully
hidden, and with instructions to mingle with the soldiers in the
guard-room while Davis was engaged with the governor. When Davis fired
a pistol through the governor’s window they were to set about the
soldiers at once, and seize all the arms in the guard-room.
In due course the pirate was with the governor, waiting dinner,
and making a bowl of punch to while the time away. Never was man
more surprised than that luckless governor when, in the midst of the
convivialities, Davis poked a pistol in his face, and told him that
unless he surrendered the castle and all the money it contained, he
would shoot him like a dog!
What could a man do? the governor evidently asked himself. Foyle gave
in. Davis and the coxswain, the master and the doctor, having closed
the door, took possession of all the weapons in the governor’s room,
and loaded all the pistols. Then Davis fired through the window,
as arranged. Instantly his men in the guard-room got to work; they
placed themselves between the soldiers and their piled-up arms, and,
with cocked pistols at the heads of the soldiers, called upon them to
surrender. They did so; it was no use trying to resist ruffians who
were so well armed! The soldiers were locked in the room, the flag
was struck, reinforcements came from the ship, and during the day the
pirates enjoyed themselves to the full, plundering everything, and
reaping a fairly rich harvest. Davis, who felt he wanted more men,
prevailed upon certain of the soldiers to join him; the others he
placed on board the sloop, having taken the precaution of removing all
sails, etc., from her, so that they could not escape.
Then, having got all that was to be obtained, Davis ordered the
fortification to be destroyed and the guns dismounted, and, considering
it time to be gone, weighed anchor. Just as the ship was setting sail
the pirates saw a vessel bearing down upon them. Not knowing what
kind of a ship she might be, whether friend or foe--they had very few
friends, and far too many foes!--Davis had all his men to arms to
receive the new-comer, who, when near enough, let fly a shot across
the pirate’s bows and hoisted the black flag! Davis, overjoyed at the
turn of events, returned the compliment both with shot and flag, and in
a few minutes the two captains were hobnobbing together. Davis found
that the new-comer was a pirate under the command of a Frenchman named
La Bouse; and, joining forces, the precious pair sailed down the coast
to Sierra Leone.
Here they saw a tall ship riding at anchor, and decided that she would
make a good prize. The thing that worried them was that she did not
attempt to escape, which made them wonder whether she might not be a
heavily armed vessel, who felt sure of herself and didn’t mind a fight.
However, Davis sailed in boldly, and his ship literally staggered back
as she received a full and heavy broadside; and up went the stranger’s
flag--a black one! Truly Davis was meeting some queer adventures! It
did not take long to explain matters, and Davis and La Bouse found
themselves in company with another band of pirates, under a rogue named
Cocklyn. They fraternised together for three days, the first two being
spent in true pirate fashion--feasting and debauching; on the third
a council of war was held, at which it was agreed to join forces,
Davis being appointed to supreme command. However, the friends soon
quarrelled amongst themselves, and the three captains nearly came to
blows one day while they were engaged in a debauch.
Davis decided that the affair must end at once, before worse happened.
“Hark ye, Cocklyn and La Bouse!” he cried. “I find that, by
strengthening you, I have put a rod into your hands to whip myself.
However, I am still able to deal with you both; but since we met in
love, let us part in love, for it’s very plain that three of a trade
can never agree.”
The other pirates saw the wisdom of Davis’s opinion, and the result was
that they parted company. We will leave the others, and follow Davis to
his tragic end. Ambitious as ever, he captured a big Dutch ship with
thirty guns in her, and, mounting twenty-seven more, sailed to the Isle
of Princes, which he thought to raid. To the governor he passed himself
off as the captain of an English man-o’-war searching for pirates. The
governor welcomed him and feasted him, and, to return the compliment,
Davis, presenting him with a dozen slaves, invited him on board to a
feast, asking him to bring some of the chief men and friars from the
island. The governor agreed, and Davis was highly pleased, for he had
fashioned a little plot whereby, as soon as the governor boarded the
ship, he and his friends were to be taken prisoner, and held to ransom
for £40,000.
Poor Pirate Davis! He was doomed to disappointment on this occasion. A
negro, watching his opportunity, that night slipped overboard, swam to
the shore, burst like a tornado upon the governor, and warned him of
the plot.
Next morning, when Davis went ashore, the governor met him with smiling
face, invited him to join him at the house in a little refreshment,
and, chatting affably, the party walked up. Presently the governor
shifted somewhat, and at a given signal a withering volley was poured
in at the pirates, who, with one exception, fell to the ground. The
plot had failed!
Davis, wounded in the bowels though he was, rose to his feet and
endeavoured to get away; he dropped in his tracks, and in the moment
of death pulled out his pistols, and fired them point-blank at his
pursuers.
When those on board the ship saw what had happened, they hurried away
post-haste, and, once clear of the island, elected a new captain.
The choice fell upon Bartholomew Roberts, and a really fine pirate
chief he made. He was a born fighter and leader of men; he stood no
nonsense from anyone, and the man who disputed his authority knew it
to his cost. He cared for nobody, and, although we need not follow his
whole career, he did so much damage amongst shipping, both off Africa
and America, that his name became a byword amongst mariners. He was a
terror of the seas.
He cut a picturesque figure when he went fighting. He would overhaul
a ship, pound at her for all he was worth, and then, entering his
longboat, row over and tackle her. All his men were extravagant in
their tastes regarding dress, but Roberts was worse than all; he
dressed in a rich crimson damask waistcoat and breeches, wore a
large black hat with a crimson feather, a gold chain round his neck,
with a diamond pendant, a silk band hanging from his shoulders to
carry his pistols. Thus, sword in hand, he led his men to the fight,
dashing, very often, through a very hail of shot, and, with shouts and
curses, urging his men on as they tried to board. A stiff fight very
often ensued, and then the pirates, having run the gauntlet of fire,
scrambled up the side of the ship and, after a fierce hand-to-hand
fight, had her beaten.
[Illustration: “Sword in hand, Roberts led his men to the fight,
dashing through a very hail of shot”]
But, though he played this game many a time with much success, Nemesis
was at hand. The _Royal Fortune_, as he called his last ship, had as
consort the _Ranger_, and the two ships caused such depredation that
the British cruiser _Swallow_ scoured the seas to find them, eventually
running them to earth in the River Gaboon. The _Royal Fortune_ lay
well up the river, but the _Ranger_ was at the mouth, and, seeing the
_Swallow_ approach with portholes closed, her crew hugged themselves
with delight in anticipation of another prize. They thought she was a
sugar ship, and they badly wanted sugar. They therefore hoisted sail
and gave chase, which was just what the _Swallow_ wanted. Lieutenant
Sun, in command, had realised that the _Ranger_ had made a mistake, and
he led her on till she was well away from the river and out of gunshot
of the _Royal Fortune_, which he meant to tackle later on.
The pirates, lured on by the thought of the sugar cargo sped after the
_Swallow_, drew near enough to fire their bow chasers, and then opened
on the quarry. Up went the black flag at the same time--as though the
_Swallow_ wanted to be told who they were!--and then, after a little
further chase, drew alongside and prepared to board. The ruffianly
looking crew lined the side of the _Ranger_. That moment the lower
ports of the _Swallow_ opened, and a terrific broadside crashed into
the side of the astonished pirate. They had been bitten, deceived.
They cursed their foes and drew off, though not before the black flag
came fluttering down to the deck. Then, having hoisted another Jolly
Roger, they tried to get away; but the _Swallow_ was swifter than their
own ship, and her guns better handled, with the result that, after a
running fight of two hours, the black flag came down again, this time
struck by the pirates; and the _Ranger_ was captured.
They were a cheerful lot of pirates which the _Swallow_ took aboard;
they did not seem to mind the prospect of the gallows, but joked and
laughed, and treated the whole affair as a huge joke. They even tried
to blow the _Ranger_ up before they were taken off, with the pirates
and the Navy men on board. Lieutenant Sun sent the _Ranger_ into port
with a prize crew, and then made off for the Gaboon River again, to
tackle Roberts, in the _Royal Fortune_. While the fight had been going
on, Roberts had been busy; he had captured a ship, and was sailing
away with her when the _Swallow_ sighted him on February 9, 1722. Sun
kept as far away as possible, so that Roberts should not suspect he
was being followed, and allowed him to anchor in a bay near Cape Lopez
for the night. Roberts, who, if he had known, might have given the
_Swallow_ the slip, remained there, all unconscious of the fate coming
to him. He was at breakfast next morning when news was brought him of
a tall ship being near at hand. Roberts said it must be the _Ranger_
returning, or a slave ship; anyway, it was nothing to get into a
turmoil about. He soon found his mistake, for the stranger hoisted her
colour, opened her ports, and showed Roberts that he was in for a scrap.
“It’s only a bite!” he cried. “Get ready!”
While his men rushed to arms, Roberts stood on his deck in all the
glory of his pilfered attire. There came to him one of his men who, a
deserter from the Navy, had once sailed aboard the _Swallow_, and knew
her powers.
“She sails best before the wind,” he said; “and we can escape, if we
want to, by running for it.”
Roberts thought a while. He knew that he was in a tight corner, for the
_Swallow’s_ men were brilliant fighters, and she was a sturdy ship. He
decided, after all, he would run for it, making up his mind that, if
everything else failed, he would either run the ship ashore, and let
his men shift for themselves, or else dash down upon the _Swallow_,
board her, and blow up both ships!
So the orders were given, and the _Royal Fortune_ swooped down upon
the _Swallow_, intending to give her a broadside as she passed. The
_Swallow_ opened fire as the black flag fluttered aloft; Roberts
returned it, and then swung away. But, just as he thought he was safe,
the _Royal Fortune_ failed them. Something went wrong; she did not
answer to the helm, and failed to catch the wind. The _Swallow_ drew
near!
What Roberts would have done it is impossible to say; what he did,
however, was to die at that moment. A grapeshot hurtled across the
deck, struck him in the throat, and killed him outright. He dropped to
the deck in a sitting posture. The helmsman, thinking he was fooling,
cursed him roundly, and tried to get him on his feet, but, finding the
pirate chief dead, began to cry, and prayed that the next shot might
kill him off too. The remainder of the ruffians seized the captain and
pitched him overboard, as he had instructed them to do in case of death.
Then, leaderless, they scarcely knew what to do; they were half drunk
most of them, and though they put up a little resistance, and some of
them sought to blow up the magazine, they at last struck their flag;
and the _Swallow_ had cleared Roberts and his herd off the sea.
So much for some of the pirates of long ago.
BLOCKADE RUNNING
Tales of Adventure in Eluding Watchful Blockaders
The Great War of 1914-15 showed what the command of the sea really
meant. It showed that even although the greatest navy in the world had
little opportunity in the early stages to meet its foes in a decisive
battle--through the latter lurking in their harbours--yet there was
much work to be done: the guarding of the ocean routes, the exertion
of silent pressure upon the enemy, who found his shipping held up
in harbour, and was unable to import food by the coast even before
a blockade had been declared. On the other hand, in another chapter
we have shown how German raiding cruisers also played havoc with the
Allies’ shipping, and pounced upon outlying places--only at last to be
brought to book. Here we are concerned only with ships that have run
blockades, slipping through the cordon drawn around coasts, running the
risk of being sunk or captured.
[Illustration: “There was a whoosh! whoosh! of a rocket
heavenwards--the warning to the blockading fleet”]
To go back to an earlier date, and a war which was as nothing compared
with the world war, we find that during the American Civil War the
Federals imposed a strict blockade of the southern ports whence the
much-needed cotton was shipped. As a result cotton soared in price, and
men found a means to make fortunes by slipping into blockaded ports
with cargoes of stuff wanted by the Confederates and taking cargoes
of cotton in their place, and then running the gauntlet of the
watchful ships. Blockade running attracted hardy adventurers of all
nationalities--men to whom adventure was the spice of life, and who,
incidentally, found the spice pretty hot!
One of the most daring of these runners was Captain Hobart, an
Englishman who joined the Royal Navy in 1836, worked hard and well in
the suppression of the slave trade in South America, served later in
the Crimean War, retiring in 1860. When the Civil War broke out he
took service as a blockade-runner, and many were the daring trips he
made. Wilmington was his favourite port, although at the mouth of the
river the Federal fleet were in strong force, bombarding Fort Fisher
and keeping up the blockade, holding up ships that were not fortunate
enough to slip by in the night, and chasing those which did not stop on
command.
Hobart didn’t stop, although on one occasion he was chased for many
miles by a Federal cruiser. In his cotton-laden ship he had slipped
out of the river and passed Fort Fisher at eleven o’clock one
night, knowing full well that lying off the mouth of the river were
twenty-five ships waiting to catch such as he.