Fire on Dark Water (35 page)

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Authors: Wendy Perriman

BOOK: Fire on Dark Water
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“Aye, Your Excellency. His thirteenth, far as I know.” The room dissolved in outrage as the men began mumbling to each other. I caught snippets of
Thirteen?
and
She’s barely more than a child!
before the governor brought them all to order. After the room hushed he continued, “He forced himself upon you, I take it? Pressed you into a bigamous wedlock?”
I nodded and looked shamefully down at the floor. Spotswood’s voice softened a notch and he suggested, “We would like you to tell us everything. In your own good time . . .”
And so I span the grandest tale you’ve ever ever heard, liberally peppered with almost half-truths. I told them I’d been captured by an East End gang who forced me to steal, then got caught red-handed and transported for seven years’ labor. That I ended up nursing in Charles Towne but fled from William Cormac’s house when his daughter tried to kill me with a knife (I showed them the wiggly scar wound as proof). I stowed away to Nassau and worked for a dressmaker called Pierre, who one day told me to take a flag he’d made to the docks and there I met a terrifying pirate called Captain Teach. I didn’t know much about buccaneers so I failed to recognize the infamous Blackbeard. He was about to eat and told me to join him and I obediently sat down because he hadn’t paid me yet. The captain ordered me to drink a tankard of rumfustian, and not being used to hard liquor I quickly grew giddy and woozy. Next thing I knew we’d set to sea and I’d been kidnapped to become the next Mrs. Teach—I even thought we’d had a proper ceremony—but later discovered such marriages were illegal. When I found out that Blackbeard’s wives didn’t last very long I started doctoring to the crew members hurt in battle, intentionally making myself indispensable. But once Teach decided to make his base in Bath Towne I knew my usefulness was at an end and so I took the first chance to escape. I got far as I could up the barrier islands and in desperation jumped into the sea to try to swim the inlet, but I fainted during the crossing and was fished out by a pilot boat and taken to Norfolk to heal with the Quakers. But soon as I heard His Excellency was trying to capture those sea villains I begged to be brought here to tell where he’s hiding so the mangy dog might pay for his crimes.
My monologue met with utter silence as the wigs absorbed my colorful plight. Then, as the sighs and exclamations faded, the governor began another series of questions that were carefully recorded by the clerk. “How long since you left Nassau?”
“A good six months, sirs.”
“Hmmm! And in all that time you saw no earlier opportunity to escape?”
I raised panicked eyes to the table and blubbered, “We hid from a storm at an ordinary in Beaufort . . . but he’d already buried one of his wives there! And when we stopped in Jamaica it was at a pirate camp . . . so I wouldn’t have found any safety.” My eyes started drumming up tears that delivered the appropriate effect.
Spotswood changed tack with the general consent of the room. He asked, “What can you tell us of Blackbeard’s navy?”
“Well—up to Christmas he’d three ships and several hundred men but they disbanded when Governor Eden pardoned them. They’ll not sail again until Easter. . . .”
“Where will they rally?”
“Ocracoke. There’ll be a bonfire signal at midnight Good Friday.”
Eager glances shot between the faces at the table before someone said, “It’s over eighty miles of island. We’d need a precise location. . . .”
“Fetch me a chart and I’ll show you,” I promised, knowing exactly where the monster hid his lair.
Then they asked me to name as many buccaneers as I could recall and their roles onboard ship. I was quizzed about weapons—especially the cannons—but I couldn’t tell much about poundage or shot. So I described the swords and pistols and axes and gave a rough estimation of how many. One of the men sought specifics about the layout of the
Queen Anne’s Revenge
and another wanted to know the daily routine, both on ship and on land. I was pumped about Bath Towne—where Teach might lodge and with whom he acquainted. Much time was spent discussing the captain’s relationship with Governor Eden, and the men were particularly pleased when I confirmed the smuggling tunnel that led to his cellars. I was grilled for hours and hours, given some water, and then questioned further. At the end of the morning I’d to confirm the information as mine and write my name at the bottom of a curly paper.
Spotswood added in afterthought, “Did you ever sign the pirate’s articles?” I shook my head. There was, fortunately, no official record of my compliance. So he spoke quietly round the back of his hand with his companions and then announced, “I have commissioned your pardon and a letter ensuring safe passage out of the Colonies. . . .
All
past crimes are hereby absolved.” I curtsied gratefully and moved forward to take the documents. But Spotswood raised a hand in the air that stayed me and added, “I shall sign both
when
Edward Teach is apprehended.”
Oh no!
“In the meantime, you will return to the public gaol and await our further instruction.” The clerk steered me from the room as sticky tears of frustration spilled from under my lashes.
I resided in that stinking place for a good ten months, and if it hadn’t been for my special relationship with the keeper I’d have likely been deranged as that other poor soul incarcerated alongside. By day I sat in the filthy straw and listened to her mindless babble—she’d apparently refused to marry the old man her father selected and was therefore being punished for her disobedience—but at night I accompanied John Redwood, who liked to play chess and dominoes as much as to romp on his comfortable cot. He ensured I was able to wash and keep warm, that I ate proper food, and earned extra treats. Of course I could have bought a much better deal with my hidden gold but I realized if I wanted to escape with my loot it was vital to keep it a secret. So I relied on charitable women for castoffs and bread, and on the lusty desires of my keeper for everything else. And I actually grew to quite like the mournful John Redwood.
Then one sweltering night in May we were awoken by urgent rapping at the gaol door. Redwood came back with a messenger from the governor bidding me ride to Palace immediately. Now, as it turned out, Blackbeard had done the unthinkable—he’d reformed his navy—blockaded the harbor at Charles Towne—and was holding the folks there to ransom. Spotswood wanted my input on how to stop him and urgently filled me in on recent events. He explained, “My spies watched the Ocracoke Inlet at Easter and your information was sound—there was a signal to rally there, answered by all the outlaws who had lewdly squandered their ill-gotten riches.” My expression must have questioned why they’d not been apprehended then and there because the governor quickly added, “We had no jurisdiction until they entered Virginian waters—unfortunately they sailed south toward Cuba.” And he didn’t need to add . . . there was no one who’d readily volunteered to take on the mighty Blackbeard.
“How many?” I inquired.
“A good two hundred. The flagship accompanied by two smaller vessels.”
“That’ll be the
Revenge
and
Adventure
. . . .”
“Commanded by . . . ?”
“Major Bonnet—if he’s recovered enough to take the
Revenge
back from Israel Hands—and probably Owen Richards.” Spotswood was scribbling scratchy notes as I talked.
“They anchored off the bar at Charles Towne three nights ago,” the governor continued, “and speedily captured a ship bound for England, a tobacco barge, two pinks, and a brigantine—while the remaining eight vessels at harbor dare not leave for fear of being likewise accosted.” I nodded sympathetically. “Trade has been completely disrupted and the inhabitants are understandably terrified. They have just endured a long and desperate war with the local savages and now find themselves infested by sea-robbers.” He looked me sharply in the face and added, “The Carolinians have appealed to us for any assistance we can provide.”
“Couldn’t the Royal Navy take them?” I ventured.
The governor moved uncomfortably and replied, “We have sent a request for His Majesty’s assistance, but I fear it will arrive too late.”
My mind was whirling—I didn’t know what was going on in Teach’s tertiary head. “What are his demands?” I asked.
A puzzled look waved Spotswood’s pudgy lips as he confided, “Apparently he wants a medicine chest filled with all the laudanum and mercury the town has available.”
Now I understood. I said in a quiet tone, “Many of the crew suffer the Great Pox. If the buccaneers intend to put to sea they’ll need a good supply. . . .” It went without saying that Blackbeard himself was infected. And all other assumptions fell likewise silent beneath the governor’s hastily donned wig.
“What would you advise the good folks at Charles Towne?” he asked.
“Give him the medicine. . . .”
“He will not make further demands for gold or some-such?” I didn’t think so if he’d already taken that many wealthy prizes off the bar. “And he’ll not later plunder the town once his demands are met?” Not if he wanted the colonists to accept him as a gentleman. Spotswood considered my own responses and then indicated to leave. As the messenger led me out, the governor asked, “Have you been kept fairly at the gaol?” I shrugged and looked at the floor. “I will send you some extra comfort,” he promised. And thereafter I received a flagon of flat ale each day.
My cunning husband did as anticipated and left the folks of Charles Towne unmolested once they’d conceded to his demands. From there the pirates sailed north up the coast, with their holds stuffed full of valuables the commodore had no intention of sharing with that many others. So having previously given each outlaw a chance to leave amicably, he now resorted to wilier tactics. Six days later we heard the
Queen Anne’s Revenge
had run aground and been lost. Now some said this was an act of the Lord—and others that fate had intervened—but Teach knew this coast like the curves of my body and wouldn’t never get carelessly stranded. Far as I could tell he’d switched all of the goods from the sinking ship to Hands’s sloop, took on board his favorite crew of forty, tricked Bonnet to go ashore on some fool’s errand, then marooned the rest of the men on one of the sandbanks. He straight thereafter brazenly surrendered to the governor of Carolina and obtained all legal rights to the spoils on the
Queen Anne’s Revenge
(claiming the ship was a lawful prize acquired from the Spaniards). The now-wealthy citizen publicly married Mary Ormond with all due pomp and ceremony, trying to ingratiate himself with the fine folk of Bath Towne, quite unaware that Spotswood was closing in.
But the restless demon inside Edward Teach couldn’t settle and soon he was once again pillaging the easy local trade routes. Now, so long as Eden received his share he turned a deaf ear to complaint, so the desperate planters appealed to the authorities in Virginia for some much-needed assistance, and in August two men-of-wars finally arrived from England, and Spotswood was able to formally issue a warrant for Blackbeard’s arrest.
But everything came to a head that fateful September. First off, the buccaneers held a weeklong debauch on Ocracoke to entertain other notable villains, including the brutal Charles Vane and his quartermaster, John Rackham. The fishermen listened to the raucous carousing that drifted into the sweetness of night—watched oars and sailcloth come and go ferrying women across to the bacchanal—heard boasts of gambling, drinking, and fighting alongside the clink of silver—and sweated the moment they’d be apprehended and have to surrender their catches. The townsfolk gazed in dismay at the crackling bonfires, growing increasingly worried the pirates might strike a permanent base here. Spotswood received so many pleas to dispatch the King’s Navy he set about hiring two sloops able to navigate the shallow inlets and creeks. Command would be given to brave Lieutenant Maynard, an experienced and determined officer who was well-respected by his marines, while an expedition of soldiers under Captain Ellis Brand were dispatched on horseback to trap the sea villain if he headed back to land. Meanwhile, Stede Bonnet had resumed his former piratical career and was captured during a fierce battle on the Cape Fear River by Colonel William Rhett. Spotswood immediately rode to Charles Towne to interrogate the prisoner to make sure his men had the most current information available. The trap was tensing to be sprung.
On the seventeenth of November Blackbeard gave a blasé glance at Maynard’s sloops approaching the
Adventure
on the evening tide, and promptly set to drinking with the local turtle-fishermen. He must have known the navy had come for him, but was also aware they’d not risk engagement until morning. Now I’m sure you’ve all heard stories of who did what on that infamous day but this is how it was told to me by them that ought to best know. See, Maynard announced himself at first light by hoisting the royal colors, and as soon as he came within hailing distance, Teach toasted him back with a glass of liquor swearing, “I’ll give no quarter nor take any from you!” Now Maynard had to draw up real close because his sloops had no cannon, and soon as they came into range the pirates fired a broadside, seriously disabling the
Jane
and wounding many of her company. Maynard’s own sloop,
Ranger
, was slightly battered, but the cunning lieutenant ordered all his men below so the deck would seem deserted. The buccaneers fired stinkpots that splayed out belching smog, but because the crew was in the hold the fumes had little effect. Then Blackbeard led the charge to board, and when dozens of marines wielding swords and firing pistols surprised them, the commodore finally realized he’d fallen into ambush. A furious battle ensued with casualties falling like deadweights, and when eventually the two leaders met face-to-face each fired off his pistol. Teach missed the naval officer’s chest but took a hit in the shoulder from Maynard’s gun—which merely enraged the burly swashbuckler, who promptly drew his cutlass and sliced the officer’s sword in twain. Blackbeard moved in for the kill slash but before his blade could touch the lieutenant’s neck a Scottish marine crept up behind and sliced the buccaneer’s throat. The king’s men set upon the falling rogue, piercing and stabbing until the demon lay still in a puddle of gore. And they tell me Teach took five bullets—had over twenty gashes—when they viciously sawed his skull from his torso. They then threw his carcass into the bloody water (where the headless corpse swam round and round the boat before sinking into legend) and suspended his dripping head from the bowsprit as proof that the monster was dead. The nine surviving pirates were immediately arrested and set in shackles. Maynard sailed straight to Bath Towne so his wounded men could seek medical attention, then he rounded up those unfortunates of Teach’s crew who happened to be ashore at the time of battle. These villains would immediately be sent to trial in the high hopes they’d all meet the hangman. The victorious
Ranger
then took Blackbeard’s rotting face—now tied to the mast of his own captured vessel—back to Virginia to a riotous hero’s welcome. And I was summoned to Hampton to give my final witness. I have to confess, though, I don’t recall seeing you among the rabble, mister—and I’m surprised that you remember seeing me.

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