PIRACY IN THE BLOOD
BY
JULIAN FOSTER
CHAPTER ONE
July 5th 1717
Port of Liverpool
Having settled into my cabin on the Constant, I was awaiting the arrival of my traveling companion for the next six weeks or so. His name was Horatio Watson and he was a botanist by profession. Other than that, I knew nothing of him at all.
I had embarked the previous morning and had spent most of the day arranging my few affairs and observing the comings and goings of local merchants, busily loading freight destined for the colonies. As well as a multitude of chests, cases and trunks brought on board, keg upon keg of Madeira wine was also loaded. So it would seem that the puritan settlers of the New World were not averse to the occasional tipple.
I was journeying towards new horizons in more ways than one. My future in England had looked to be a bleak one, until the day my father received a letter from his elder brother. Edward had left England some twenty odd years before, intending to find fame and fortune in the colonies. And it was the first correspondence my father had received from him since his departure. It couldn't have arrived at a more propitious moment.
Edward had left home early one winter morning, leaving just a scribbled note of farewell to his younger brother, recounting a tale of unrequited love involving the daughter of a local dignitary, who also happened to be their employer.
The boys were the sons of an austere, widowed Scottish schoolteacher from Dumfries who, out of financial necessity, had emigrated south to Manchester to teach at a private boys school. Unable to afford to raise his sons, he had found employment for them as stable boys at a nearby manor house. And it was from there that Edward had set out to seek solace and fortune in the New World.
A few years later, Father met and married the daughter of a local farmer. But sadly, not long after the wedding, the farmer died and left his smallholding to his daughter. So Father left the stables and began to work the land instead.
But farming was a hard life offering little recompense and as the years passed, crop failures and bad harvests took their toll. By the time he received Edward's letter, Father was struggling to keep me and my two sisters out of the workhouse.
It was with considerable joy that he read of Edward's successful dealings in the tobacco-growing business in Richmond, Virginia. He had become a very wealthy man indeed. However, he was a man without a wife or children and with failing health to boot. Father saw this as opportunity to lighten his load and wrote back to his brother proposing to send one of his own children forthwith, to offer comfort and assistance in his brother's time of need. The child he proposed to send was me. I had just turned fifteen and I was about to have the adventure of a lifetime.
Father's dispatched his letter and, to save time, he dispatched me with it.
And that is how I found myself, one cold January morning, sitting in a cabin on the merchant ship Constant, waiting for Watson.
I confess that I was in a state of some excitement, as I looked forward to the adventure that surely awaited me. And yet, there was also a certain sadness in my heart, for it is never pleasant to be sacrificed, especially when one's own father is doing the sacrificing.
***
Finally, amid a great kerfuffle, Watson made his belated appearance. A puffing, short, red-faced young man of about twenty years of age stumbled into the cabin, bringing with him a very considerable amount of luggage. Luckily for him, my own baggage consisted of just one small case, so there was room enough for his many trunks of equipment, books and botanical impedimenta.
We became acquainted as he set about stowing his many possessions in the tiny cabin. He told me that he hailed from London and was traveling to Virginia on a scientific mission to study plant-life, sponsored by the Royal Society, no less.
We were to sail on the morrow and were invited to dine with the captain that evening. It was an invitation that would be repeated often throughout the voyage and an honor that had been bestowed on me thanks to Watson, who was a distant relative of the captain. It made a significant contribution to my otherwise paltry and unappetizing diet, and would not be the sole occasion that would give me cause to feel indebted to my traveling companion.
CHAPTER TWO
The crossing took just over six weeks and was quite uneventful except for the regular spells of bad weather, which provoked great suffering in my landlubbing cabinmate. Watson 'boked', (as we say in Scotland) more vomit than I thought a human body could possibly contain. I hoped that his stay in the colonies would be a long one, because the poor man was surely dreading the return trip.
When he wasn't taking a second look at the food he'd consumed earlier, Watson busied himself with the study of any marine or bird-life that he could lay his hands on. And in this respect, I was of great assistance to him, being something of an expert at both fishing and shooting, skills that I'd mastered growing up on the farm. I had little difficulty in hitting the occasional bird which had the misfortune to fly over the ship and within range of Watson's flintlock pistol. He had entrusted the pistol to me because handling it filled him with such anxiety that his hand would tremble violently and hitting a moving target was impossible. So I would do the killing and he would carry out experiments on my prey. Once he had finished dissecting and studying the innards of my kills, we would take the remains to the ship's galley to them cooked for that evening's meal.
By the time we had completed the crossing of the Atlantic and were making our way up the coast of the American colonies, Watson and I had become quite firm friends. Indeed, I felt a certain melancholy as I anticipated our arrival at Jamestown and thus our imminent separation. The captain had informed us that we would be there within two days and we had begun preparing our affairs for disembarkation. This was a very minor task for me, as all it required was the re-packing of my one small case, but it was a major undertaking for poor old Watson, whose possessions seemed to have expanded in volume since he'd boarded and now refused to be accommodated in the same number of cases and trunks in which they had arrived. After he'd finally locked and sealed the last case, there remained a black velvet coat and the flintlock pistol, both of which he kindly presented to me: the pistol because he was afraid of it, and the coat because it had been the victim of his seasickness and now bore such a pungent odor that it would contaminate his other clothes if packed with them. I accepted both gifts gladly, being the possessor of neither a means of self-protection nor a topcoat of my own. I gave the coat a quick brushing and put it on, slipping the flintlock into one of its deep inside pockets.
A short while after this one-sided exchange of gifts a cry went up from the crows-nest.
“Ship ahoy!”
It had been four weeks since we'd last seen another vessel, so we went out onto the main deck in a state of some excitement. The captain had been observing the approaching vessel through his telescope and turned to his second in command with a rather worried look.
“It's flying the skull and crossbones, Davies. Head for the coast, we'll try to outrun them!”
“What's does the skull and crossbones flag mean, Captain Marsh?” I asked.
“Pirates, lad, pirates. They usually operate down in the Caribbean, but from time to time they come up towards Virginia.”
Despite being fully rigged, we were no match for the lighter pirate ship and before the hour was up it had closed to within a mile of us. Suddenly there was a gigantic splash about a hundred yards from our starboard bow.
“They're shooting at us, sir!” exclaimed Davies.
“That was just a warning shot to get us to drop the sails. If we don't, the next one will go across the bow. The one after that will hit us.”
“What should we do, sir?”
“We have little choice. Drop all sails!”
CHAPTER THREE
As the pirate ship neared the captain watched it through his telescope. He read out its name:
“The Revenge. Good heavens, that's Blackbeard's ship!”
“Do you know him, Captain?” I asked.
“Everybody knows Blackbeard. Captain Edward Teach, the most feared and evil of all the pirates in the Caribbean!”
With the sails down we came to a halt and the Revenge was soon upon us. Standing on its prow was the most extraordinary and fearsome sight I had ever laid my eyes on. Over six feet tall, standing with his legs spread apart for balance, was Blackbeard himself. He wore a tricorn hat atop a straggly head of hair, with his face almost completely hidden under a long, bushy black beard, woven into two tails tied with red and blue ribbons. Across his chest were two wide straps, each holding three pistols. In his right hand he brandished a large cutlass and in his left he held yet another pistol. I glanced at Watson and he looked petrified. He was staring open-mouthed at Blackbeard and trembling all over and with tears watering his eyes.
“Avast ye all! Prepare to welcome Blackbeard or prepare to meet yer maker!” shouted the pirate, before firing his pistol into the air.
“We'll not be offering any resistance, Captain!” shouted Captain Marsh. “Tell your men to spare us, we have no mind to fight!”
The Revenge came alongside and ropes were thrown between the two ships. In no time at all our deck was swarming with dirty, unruly, savage-looking pirates. The officers and passengers of the Constant were pushed and shoved into one group at the front of the main deck by some very rough and tough pirates. The rest of the crew were herded to the stern and forced to sit with their hands on their heads. Once all had been secured, Blackbeard crossed over on a gangplank and made his way to the upper deck, along with several other unsavory types. He barked out his orders:
“Fender, take five men down to the hold and see what's in there. Captain, you and your men throw all your weapons to the floor in front of you! One-eyed Jack, search the prisoners! I don't want so much as a single knife left on 'em.”
So we were prisoners!
One-eyed Jack was an evil looking man with a patch over one eye and a deep, long scar on one side of his face. His mouth was in a permanent scowl and the few teeth in it were black and crooked. Along with a few other, equally unpleasant characters, he began searching us. And it was only then that I remembered Watson's pistol! I'd completely forgotten about it in all the excitement and stress, but it was too late to do anything about it now. All I could do was to stare straight ahead and hope to God that it wouldn't be discovered. But One-eyed Jack's hands felt it as he patted me down. With a snarl he thrust his hand into the inside pocket and pulled out the flintlock.
“Look what we've got here, Cap'n Teach!”
“Bring him to me!” roared Blackbeard.
One-eyed Jack grabbed me by the scruff of the neck and hauled me to the upper deck. I was panic-stricken, convinced that I was about to breathe my last breath. He shoved me in front of Blackbeard and handed the pistol to him.
“What have you got to say for yourself, boy. Speak up before I feed ye to the sharks?” he growled.
“I'm sorry sir, I forgot I had it. Honestly sir, as God is my witness!”
Blackbeard held the pistol up to show it to his men;
“He forgot he had it, boys.” he mocked, to jeers of derision from the other pirates.
“And where did a young whippersnapper like you get a pretty little flintlock like this then, eh?”
I could see past him to the group of prisoners on the main deck. Watson's face was ashen with fear, his eyes pleading with me not to denounce him.
“I...er, it was a gift from my father when I left home, sir.”
Blackbeard took a step towards me and thrust his face directly in front of mine.
“A gift from your father, was it? And what else did he give ye, eh? What other booty have you got tucked away in that nice soft velvet coat of yours? One-eyed Jack, undress him!”
I tried to struggle but two pirates held my arms as One-eyed Jack pulled off my coat, waistcoat, breeches and shirt, leaving me standing in nothing but my drawers. He rifled through my clothes and found Father's letter in the pocket of my waistcoat. He took a quick look at it, but he was almost certainly illiterate, so he just threw it on the floor.
”No!” I shouted before I could stop myself, and made a lunge to pick it up. But one of the other pirates struck me in the side of the head and knocked me to the floor.
“Give that paper to me!” said Blackbeard.
One-eyed Jack handed him the folded letter and he read it. He seemed perplexed at first, and then he looked up at me, pensively.
“Get the boy dressed and bring him to me in the captain's cabin!” he shouted angrily, adding: “And be warned, any man that harms him will walk the plank!”
He stormed off to the captain's cabin.
CHAPTER FOUR
I dressed myself and was then marched to the captain's cabin at the point of a cutlass by One-eyed Jack. I was terrified as he opened the door and shoved me inside. Blackbeard was sitting at the captain's desk.
“Leave him with me, One-eyed Jack. Get the men to start shifting the booty from the holds onto the Revenge. I don't want to stay here any longer than we have to.”
He was holding a knife and he pointed it at me and then at the chair on the other side of the desk:
“Sit!”
He pushed Father's letter across the desk.
“What's your name, boy?”
“James Drummond, sir.”
“How old are ye?”
“Fifteen, sir.”
“This letter, it was written by your father?”
“Aye, sir.”
“And you've come here to find your rich uncle in Virginia?”
“That's right, sir.”
He looked closely at me and then stared out of the cabin window at the sea for at least a full minute. Then he stood up and leaned over the desk.
“Shiver me timbers!” he shouted and stabbed the knife into Father's letter.
“Now you listen here boy, and listen good. I'm going to take you with me on the Revenge. I'm in need of a cabin boy and I figure you'll do as well as another. Do your job well and make no trouble, then you might get to meet that rich uncle of yours one day. But cause me any bother and I'll have you keelhauled! DO YOU UNDERSTAND ME!”
His voice boomed so loud and deep that it made the walls of the cabin tremble.
“A...a...aye, sir.”
“For now, stick close by me and do as I tell ye!” he snapped, folding Father's letter and putting it in his pocket. I followed him out onto the deck where the pirates were busy rolling kegs of wine across the gangplanks to the Revenge. One-eyed Jack came over to Blackbeard.
“We've loaded all the booty from the hold, Captain.” he said. “Now we're shifting the last few kegs of Madeira wine across. There's enough of it for us to make merry till doomsday. What do you want done with the prisoners?”
“Leave them be, just take anything that's of value. We'll sell it in Bath Town market on the way back to New Providence. But we won't be taking the Constant, she's too slow and cumbersome for us.”
“Shall we scuttle her?”
“No. Leave her with her crew and passengers. They can make their way back to dry land.”
“What about this little jackanapes?” he asked, nodding in my direction.
“He's of no concern to you, One-eyed Jack. Go and get the men busy, I want us to be away as soon as possible.”
One-eyed Jack gave me a look that chilled me to the very bones, then he strode off to carry out his captain's orders.
There was a commotion on the main deck and I looked down to see Watson, lying prostrate on top of his chests of equipment, tearfully pleading to be allowed to keep them. A pirate, pointing a cutlass at him, shouted:
“Stand aside, puff guts, or I'll cut ye to pieces!”
Terrified as I was, I couldn't bear to stand there and watch Watson get himself killed.
“Captain, please spare him. Those chests contain nothing but scientific equipment. There's no value in them for you.”
Blackbeard pulled one of the pistols from the sling across his chest. I feared he was about to shoot me and I wished that I'd kept my mouth shut. But to my relief, he fired it into the air. Everybody stopped still.
“Leave them chests where they be! Get the kegs of wine loaded and then we'll be on our way.” he turned to me and snapped:
“That's the last I want to hear from you today, boy!”
CHAPTER FIVE
We boarded the Revenge and the captain ordered for all sails to be hoisted. She was a much faster ship and before long I watched with apprehension as the Constant disappeared from view.
Blackbeard took me to his quarters, a large, well-furnished cabin, and showed me a place in the corner where I was to make my bed.
From out on the main deck came the sounds of pipes and drums and singing. The men had opened some kegs of wine and were celebrating.
“Stay in here and don't come out unless I tell you to!” said Blackbeard. Then he went out on deck to join in the festivities.
I felt very scared and very lost. I was a prisoner and a servant of the most feared pirate in the whole of the Caribbean. But did Blackbeard really mean to keep me as his cabin boy, or did he plan to sell me as a slave? I sat staring out of the window as day slowly turned to night, wondering what was to become of me.
It was late in the night when Blackbeard eventually staggered back into the cabin. He paid no attention to me, but just gave an enormous belch and then collapsed onto his bed, a good three sheets to the wind.
Late the next morning, Blackbeard stirred groggily, stretched, then gave another loud belch and went out on deck. After a few minutes, he returned in the company of the first Negro man that I'd ever met. Of course, I'd already seen black men before, but they were slaves and I'd only ever seen them from a distance. This was the first time I'd ever been close to one and this man was by far the darkest I'd ever seen. His skin was so black that it took on a dark blue sheen. He wore a billowing white shirt, open to the waist, and baggy, black pantaloons held up by a thick leather belt. He had a large gold earring, two gold teeth and a red bandanna on his head.
“This here's Mercy. He'll make sure no ill comes your way until I decide what I'm to do with you.” said Blackbeard.
I put out my hand to shake Mercy's, but he didn't take it. Instead he just nodded to me, then nodded to the captain and went out again.
“Can he not speak?” I asked.
“Mercy isn't one for conversation.”
“Where does he come from?”
“That I don't know. He was a slave on a French ship I captured and he's been with me ever since. That's why I call him mercy. It was the only word he knew and he kept saying it all the time: 'merci, merci, merci.' That's the way the Frenchies say thank you. He's loyalest man I've got on this ship and I'd trust him with my life. If you have any trouble with the likes of One-eyed Jack or the others, you just tell him and he'll take care of it. Now that's enough blathering. Go to the galley and fetch me some biscuits and fresh water.”
I stepped nervously out of the cabin. I had no idea where the galley was and I was certainly too afraid to ask anyone. But I'd only taken two paces towards the deck when Mercy appeared from out of nowhere. He stepped in front of me and just stared at me.
“I've got to get biscuits and water for the captain.” I said.
He turned and began to walk away, then looked back at me and made a sign for me to follow him.
And that was what happened every time I stepped out of the cabin: Mercy would appear from out of nowhere and accompany me. I was obviously of value to Blackbeard and I supposed it was Mercy's job to make sure that I didn't try to escape, although so far out to sea, there was very little chance of me doing that.
CHAPTER SIX
We were sailing down towards the Caribbean, but we stopped off at Bath Town to sell the booty captured from the Constant. Blackbeard's other ship, the Good Intent, captained by Lieutenant Richards, had come into the harbor and the two crews were intent on celebrating their reunion. Not that these pirates seemed to need an excuse to get drunk! I was confined to the ship and Blackbeard ordered me to wait in the cabin until he returned.
I sat around all morning with nothing to do, while Mercy kept watch outside the door. By mid-afternoon I could stand being shut up inside no longer, so I opened the cabin door and had a look outside. A couple of yards away, Mercy was lying fast asleep on a coil of rope. I tiptoed past him and made my way to the main deck and stood at the rail looking out at the land.
“So, you've come out to play have ye?” said a voice from behind me. I turned and saw One-eyed Jack and four other men. They were part of the skeleton crew that had been ordered to stay on board, chosen by picking colored buttons from a sack.
I wanted to go back to the cabin and looked towards it, hoping to see Mercy, but he was obviously still sleeping.
“We like to play as well, don't we boys.” said One-eyed Jack, “Especially if there's a wager on it?”
“Aye, that we do.” said the other men.
“I'll bet two pieces of eight that this here little bilge-sucker hasn't got the guts to climb up to the crow's nest.”
“I'll bet the same!” shouted another pirate.
“Go on then boy! There's four pieces of eight in for ye.”
I used to climb trees on the farm back in England, but I'd never climbed anywhere near that height before.
“I don't think I want to. I have to get back to my cabin.”
I made to walk away, but all five of the men stood in my path. One-eyed Jack took a dagger from his belt and held it under my chin.
“It don't do to refuse a wager, lad. Do that and you'll end up as shark bait!”
I looked up at the crow's nest; it seemed so small and so far away. I hesitated.
“Go on, get on with it!” shouted One-eyed Jack, turning me round and kicking me in the buttocks. “Don't worry, we'll catch ye if ye fall!” he added, to the laughter of the other men.
I had no choice. I took hold of the rope ladder leading from the side of the ship to the top of the main mast. I looked up. It was over a hundred feet to the top of the ladder, more than twice as high as anything I'd ever climbed before. I began to climb slowly, one shaky step at a time. I had only reached about a third of the way and my hands were already sore from clutching the hemp rope. I was trying my hardest not to look up or down, concentrating on placing my feet firmly on each rope step. Down below, One-eyed Jack and his friends were cheering and jeering.
“Hurry up, ye lily-livered wench. We ain't got all day!”
One of them threw a nail at me and it just missed. I carried on climbing, and the rope ladder began to wobble.
Then all of a sudden, the jeering stopped. I looked down and there was Mercy, striding towards the five men. The four others parted and Mercy stood face to face with One-eyed Jack.
“You want to play too, eh, Mercy?” asked One-eyed Jack, waving his dagger in his face.
In one lightning movement, Mercy swiveled on his heel and smashed the side of his hand into One-eyed Jack's neck, knocking him out cold. He turned to face the other men, who all held up their hands.
“We was only fooling, Mercy. There weren't no harm in it. It were just for fun, honest.”
Mercy waved angrily at me to climb down. When I reached the deck, One-eyed Jack was just coming round. Mercy stood above him, his fists clenched, his eyes wide and staring with fury. Then he turned to me, grabbed my elbow and led me back to the cabin. Late at night, Blackbeard and his men came back on board, singing and dancing, and falling down drunk. So it wasn't until midday that the two ships set sail for Havana, to buy provisions with what was left of the booty which hadn't been wasted on rum, women and wine.
CHAPTER SEVEN
After a very brief stop at Havana, we continued into the Caribbean, looking for prey.
Just off the coast of Saint Vincent the cry came from the crow's nest:
“Ship ahoy!”
Blackbeard looked through the telescope:
“Frenchies! A guineaman slaveship by the look of her. And a fine solid ship she looks too. Prepare to attack!”
The Revenge and the Good Intent overtook the French slave-ship, La Concorde and each, in turn, fired a broadside across its bow. The captain of La Concorde had little choice but to surrender.
Gangplanks were laid from both ships to La Concorde and over fifty men stormed across.
Mercy went over to act as an interpreter with the Negro slaves, so for the first time since I'd been captured, I was left on my own.
I watched from the poop deck as the pirates swarmed over the decks, led by Blackbeard, brandishing two pistols. He was met by the French captain and they began to parley. I saw Mercy disappear into the ship's hold with some of the other pirates.
A dozen or so members of the French crew had decided to make a fight of it and, taking advantage of the general mayhem, they burst out from the crews' quarter and crossed the gangplank onto the Revenge. Fighting broke out between them and some of the pirates who'd stayed on board to protect the ship, led by One-eyed Jack. The French were outnumbered and all but three of them were killed. They tried to retreat, but the way to the gangplank was cut off and they backed up the stairway leading to the poop deck. I stood watching, frozen with fear as they reached the top of the stairway. One of them grabbed me by the hair and pulled me in front of him, holding a knife to my throat. He shouted:
“Put down your arms or I kill him!”
The pirates stopped for a second, unsure of what to do. All of them that is, except One-eyed Jack. He raised his pistol slowly, with an evil smirk on his face. I closed my eyes, certain that he was about to shoot me. Then I heard the shot and the man holding me fell to the ground. As I opened my eyes, One-eyed Jack leaped forward, pushed me to the floor and slashed his cutlass across the second man's face, then spun round and plunged his cutlass into the body of the third man. He then turned back and finished off the second man. In three seconds he'd killed three men. I was left lying on the ground, speechless and shocked.
Mercy had come racing back from the other ship and took the stairs two at a time. He came up to One-eyed Jack and stood toe to toe with him, with fury in his eyes. One-eyed Jack stared back for a couple of seconds, then grinned, turned and walked away.
A pirate helped me to my feet.
“One-eyed Jack saved my life!” I exclaimed.
“He didn't do it for the love of you, lad.” said the pirate. “One-eyed Jack just likes to kill people!”
Blackbeard decided that he wanted to keep La Concorde. He ordered Lieutenant Richards to take the Revenge and to leave the Good Intent with the French captain and his crew so that they could continue on their way to Martinique.
“What will you do with all the Negroes?” asked Richards.
“Those who want to join us can join us. We'll put the rest of them ashore and they can fend for themselves.”
There were over four hundred slaves in the stinking hold, quite a few of them already dead. The majority decided to take their chances as free men, and we left them on the nearest land, Bequia Island. About a dozen of them chose to join us and were put on the Revenge.
We moored at Bequia Island and the ship was cleaned, refurbished and the cannons were transferred from the Good Intent before the French were allowed to go on their way. Blackbeard renamed the ship Queen Anne's Revenge.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Over the next couple of years I witnessed many an attack and out of boredom if nothing else, I would gladly have taken part. But Blackbeard refused to let me. I was convinced that he intended to sell me as a slave, so I did my best to make myself indispensable as his cabin boy. As the months passed, I got to know him better and I realized that he was far from being the bloodthirsty, murderous villain of his reputation. In fact, I never once saw him kill a man. As he told me:
“I don't agree with killing another man, unless he's out to kill me. Anyway, killing ain't necessary. All you need is for others to think you might kill 'em. That's why I style myself like this. With my straggly hair, long black beard and evil eye, everybody's afraid of me. Even One-eyed Jack. The only man I know who doesn't fear me is Mercy.”
Life on a pirate ship was tough and unhealthy. Most of the time we were at sea, because it was dangerous for us to spend too much time in port. For weeks on end we would suffer the intense heat of the Caribbean sun with poor food and a shortage of clean drinking water. Then I became ill. I had been feeling tired and weak for some time, and eventually I collapsed on the deck. Mercy carried me to the cabin and fetched the ship's doctor and the captain.
“Doctor says its scurvy.” said Blackbeard. “You need medicine, lad.”
There were about a dozen of us who were very sick and more than twice that number who were feeling unwell. So Blackbeard gave orders for the Revenge to escort the Queen Anne's Revenge to Charles Town, where medical supplies could be obtained. The journey took four days, during which my condition worsened. Mercy stayed at my bedside night and day, mopping my fevered brow and trying to get me to drink some broth, to keep my strength up.
As soon as we arrived, Blackbeard sent a message to the town authorities asking for medical supplies, but none came. So the two ships anchored in front of the harbor and organized a blockade of the town, attacking any ship that tried to enter or leave.
This went on for several days until a ship tried to force its way past. It was taking members of Charles Town council to London. Blackbeard attacked and captured the ship and took the council members prisoner. He threatened them with beheading if they didn't arrange for full supplies of medicine to be handed over to us. Not surprisingly, they agreed to help and One-eyed Jack was sent ashore with one of the council members, accompanied by a half a dozen pirates.
I was sitting on the main deck with Mercy, getting some fresh air, when we saw the longboat come back. We watched as it pulled up alongside and the pirates began climbing the Jacob's ladder with the boxes of supplies. The last two to leave the boat were One-eyed Jack and the prisoner. One-eyed Jack nodded to the council member to climb the ladder but, as he reached to grasp hold of it, One-eyed Jack grabbed him by the hair and pulled his head back. Then, to my horror, he slit his throat from ear to ear and then tipped him into the sea!
Blackbeard was waiting at the rail as One-eyed Jack climbed aboard. As soon as he stepped onto the deck he struck him violently across the face with the hilt of his cutlass. One-eyed Jack fell to the ground and Blackbeard stood over him, his cutlass pointed at his chest.
“I've a mind to skewer yer gizzard, ye scabby sea bass!” he snarled. Then he turned to Mercy:
“Clap him in irons and put 'im back in the longboat.”
Helped by a couple of other pirates, Mercy shackled One-eyed Jack, who was still half-dazed from Blackbeard's blow. Then he picked him up, threw him across his shoulder and climbed down the rope ladder. Then he let him fall into the bottom of the longboat.
The captain ordered for the remaining prisoners to be released unharmed and taken back to their ship and we set sail, trailing the longboat behind us.
About three miles offshore there was a tiny, deserted island and we came to a stop nearby. Blackbeard hand-picked several men and ordered them to row One-eyed Jack ashore and leave him there. They began rowing and almost straight away Mercy pointed out to that one of them was unlocking One-eyed Jack's shackles. When they were about twenty yards from the ship Blackbeard shouted:
“Set the mainsail and put us on a course for Ocracoke Inlet!”
The ship veered away as the men in the longboat, shouting and waving, tried to turn it around. But there was no way they could catch up with us.
Mercy led me back to the cabin and gave me large doses of a potion was made of plants and fruit juices. By the time Blackbeard came to see me a few hours later, I was already feeling much fitter.
“Looks like you're through the worst of it, lad, I'm pleased to see.” he said.
“Yes, I feel much better, thanks Captain.”
But something had been playing on my mind.
“Captain, why did we sail away and leave all those other men stranded with One-eyed Jack?” I asked.
“Because they were all old shipmates of his, part of Benjamin Hornigold's crew. They joined us when Hornigold retired. But I told you before, you can't trust a pirate. I suspected that they might try something sneaky.” he winked at me then added, “So I tried something sneaky first.”
CHAPTER NINE
Ocracoke Inlet was Blackbeard's favorite anchorage because it was well-placed for surveying ships traveling between the various settlements of North and South Carolina. It also allowed easy access south to the Caribbean.
The Queen Anne's Revenge had run aground on a sandbank and we had been forced to change ships. We were now aboard the smaller and lightly armed Adventure. We had been hiding there for a couple of months, heading out to sea whenever a passing merchant ship looked to be worth attacking. We'd just returned from an excursion close to Bath Town, where we'd captured and emptied the hold of the Mary Rose, on its way to Savannah with fifty kegs of rum.
The celebration was a riotous, drunken, singing, dancing and brawling party that went on for seven days. Many of the men had gone ashore to some of the tiny islets nearby, to sleep off the effects of their drinking on dry land and only a skeleton crew remained on board.
On the morning of the eighth day, Blackbeard sent Mercy and me to nearby Hatteras Island which had a high point of about fifty feet and offered a clear all round view of any approaching vessels. We were to remain there for three days, so we took supplies of water and food. We made a shelter out of some old sailcloth which was in the longboat and sat scanning the horizon, hour after hour, with nothing in sight but the vast blue ocean. To pass the time, Mercy taught me a game he used to play in Africa called Morabaraba (see appendix). It was a bit like checkers and we played it on a board he'd marked out in the sand, using stones and seashells as pieces. I never managed to fully understand the rules, but, somewhat improbably, I won every game! Mercy and I had become good friends and that was an example of just how good a friend he was.
CHAPTER TEN
During the afternoon on our second day on the islet, Mercy was feeling tired and dropped off to sleep. I took a look out to sea, but there was nothing but bright blue ocean, as usual, so I wandered down to the beach. I strolled along looking for anything interesting among the flotsam and jetsam washed up on the beach. I'd walked about a mile and was passing a clump of trees on a slight elevation at the point of the island and as I rounded the point I glanced out to sea. I could hardly believe my eyes! Not more than three miles away there were two ships, flying the Union Jack and heading straight for the inlet! They must have been screened by the trees when I'd looked out to sea earlier. I ran as fast as I could back along the beach, tripping over driftwood and stumbling through the soft sand. By the time I'd reached Mercy my chest was aching and my heart was pounding in my ears.
“Ships ahoy! Ships ahoy!” I screamed, grabbing him by the arm.
He woke up with a start and got to his feet.
“We have to get back to the ship, hurry!” I shouted.
But he clamped his hand on my shoulder and held me still, shaking his head. I sat down. Mercy was right, there was no way we could row the heavy boat back to the Adventure before the two ships reached the inlet. He made a small pile of twigs and mimed that we should light a fire, so we both ran down to the shore and collected as many dry branches as we could find. He put some gunpowder on a pile of dry grass and lit it, using the spark from his flintlock. The fire took and we piled the branches on top of it. Then he loaded his flintlock and fired a shot into the air, using up the last of his gunpowder.
We took turns watching through our telescope as the two Royal Navy ships neared and then sailed into the inlet. Fortunately, it seemed as though our warning shot had been heard because the Adventure had hoisted its sails and met the two ships with a volley of cannon fire. The effect was devastating. Men leaped overboard to escape the flames as countless others lay wounded or dead on the decks of both ships. One of them, HMS Ranger, had suffered tremendous damage and turned round. The other, HMS Jane, headed straight for the Adventure. With only a skeleton crew, re-arming the cannons and maneuvering the ship took much longer than usual and Blackbeard was soon caught trapped between HMS Jane and a long sandbank. The British warship pulled alongside and in no time, British sailors were on the deck of the Adventure. Despite fierce resistance from the outnumbered pirates, the British quickly had the upper hand. As I looked on, helpless, Blackbeard was surrounded by a group of British sailors and their captain, but Mercy snatched the telescope from me so that I would not witness Blackbeard's bloody final moments.
One of the surviving pirate later gave me an account of Blackbeard's death. The British captain had taken a shot at him but had missed and Blackbeard dashed towards him, brandishing his cutlass. He would have struck him but a British sailor leaped forwards and slashed his neck. Blackbeard collapsed to his knees and was cut to pieces by the other British sailors.
An hour after his death, Blackbeard's severed head was suspended from the bowsprit of HMS Jane. It was a sickening sight and a terrible fate for such a man. He may have been a pirate, but he was no murderous villain, and I have no hesitation in admitting that I had grown to love and admire him.
Mercy and I sat and stared at the gruesome sight for some minutes, tears streaming down our faces.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Longboats were sent from HMS Jane to capture the rest of the pirates who were recuperating from their drinking spree on several small islets close to the Adventure. It wasn't long before one of them began rowing towards us.
As we watched it approach, Mercy reached inside his shirt and took out a cloth purse that was tied around his neck. He opened it and handed me a letter.
It had been sealed and signed by Captain Edward Teach and was addressed to 'James Drummond Esq.' As I opened it I thought of what he had said to me when he sent Mercy to Hatteras Island:
“I want you both out of the way, so go to Hatteras Island and keep watch. If you see anything, light a fire and stay there. We'll take care of whatever turns up and if we can't, you'll be safer there. Now be off with you and don't come back before I send someone to fetch you.”
I unfolded the letter and began to read:
'My dearly beloved James Drummond,
If you are reading this letter, then things have taken a turn for the worse for me.
When I first arrived in these parts, I engaged as a privateer, but we had to share the pickings with the crown and the governor was a greedy man. So I took to piracy instead and became a wealthy man. But I always did my best to be fair to those who crossed my path, so do not judge me too harshly.
Then, blow me down, you came along! And you brought with you a letter from my dear brother.
Yes, James, for I am the uncle Edward that you came here to seek! Although I go under the name of Teach these days, I am, like you, a Drummond.
Perhaps I should have told you. But I didn't want it known, because it would have put your life in danger. So instead, I kept you by me and did my best to keep you from harm.
This was to be my last year as a pirate, before seeking a pardon and retiring to my plantation in Virginia. But I know that will not happen now. There is a price on my head and the Royal Navy is after me and I will not escape for long.
As for the future, trust nobody but Mercy. He will take care of you and there is a fortune to be made on his back! It is yours for the taking. Go to the Drummond Plantation in Richmond. It belongs to you now and there is a wife waiting for you there. Take good care of her.
Give my fondest love to my brother.
Your loving uncle,
Edward.'
CHAPTER TWELVE
The longboat sent from HMS Jane to collect us was almost at the shore and I asked Mercy if we should try to hide. He just shrugged his shoulders and swept his hand in a full circle. There was nowhere to hide on this small island.
We walked down to the beach and waited for the British with our hands in the air. They bundled us into the longboat and rowed us back to HMS Jane.
As we climbed aboard the ship I stopped dead in my tracks, thunderstruck: One-eyed Jack was coming down the steps from the upper deck, chatting with the British captain!
So that's how they'd found us at our secret anchorage! One-eyed Jack had betrayed us!
With our feet chained together and our hands bound with rope, we spent the night sitting in a circle with the rest of the surviving pirates.
I couldn't sleep, thinking about Blackbeard... my uncle! If only I had known before. But then what? The contents of his letter had left me melancholy and confused. So there was a Drummond Plantation in Virginia, but what good was that to me now? We would surely all be hanged in Williamsburg. And how could he have written that about making money off Mercy's back? How could he imagine that I would ever even think of selling Mercy into slavery?
Eventually, tiredness got the better of me and, like all the others, I fell into a fitful, uncomfortable asleep. In the middle of the night I was woken by a dig in the ribs from Mercy. He grasped my head between his bound hands and stared me straight in the eyes for a couple of seconds, then he gestured for me to help him raise his shirt. He pointed a finger at me, then at my eye, then at my forehead. I understood that he wanted me to remember something. He turned his back to me and I could just about make out some kind of drawing on it, a tattoo. But it was a cloudy night and on his dark black skin the tattoo was almost invisible. But all of a sudden, as if by miracle, the clouds parted and the moon shone directly on him. The tattoo pictured an island with a cross marked a little to the east of its center, next to what appeared to be a large rock. Mercy turned to face me, stood up and helped me to stand. With his bound hands he pointed to a small islet a little further away than the others. Then he whispered the first word of English that I'd ever heard him speak:
“Gold!”
A soldier noticed us and came over:
“Who told you two to get up? Sit back down and be quiet or it'll be the cat o'nine tails for both of you!”
So that was what my uncle had meant! It all seemed so obvious now: 'there's a fortune to be made on his back. It's yours for the taking.' The drawing on Mercy's back was a map, showing where Blackbeard had buried his treasure. I can hardly express my relief that my uncle hadn't intended for me to sell Mercy! But sadly, the map would be of little use to me now.
Just after sunrise, we were all made to stand in a line and the captain and two officers passed in front of us. Accompanying them was One-eyed Jack.
As they went along the line, One-eyed Jack gave the name of each of the prisoners to an officer, who took note of it. Out of the corner of my eye I could see Mercy, flexing his arms and struggling with the rope binding his hands. The captain came to a halt in front of him.
“Who is the Saracen?” he asked One-eyed Jack.
“The scourge of the seven seas, sir. A more evil man I've yet to meet. His heart's as black as his heathen face. He goes by the name of Mercy, but if I were you I'd show him none at all. I'd hang him from the yardarm this very day!”
Mercy stared fixedly at One-eyed Jack.
The captain took a step further and stood in front of me.
“This youngster was hiding out on an island with the Negro, wasn't he?”
“Aye sir. And this one's the biggest catch of them all. He's the captain's little favorite; treated him like he was kin, he did. If you ask me, he's...”
But before he could finish his phrase, Mercy had leaped behind him and passed his hands over his head. He'd loosened the rope enough to use it as a garrote and he was strangling him. Two of the officers tried to pull him off, but he was far too strong for them. Then another officer stepped forwards and shot Mercy straight between the eyes. He fell to the floor stone dead, still holding the rope around the broken neck of One-eyed Jack.
“Who did he say you were, young man?” asked the captain.
“James Drummond, sir.”
“Is this true that you are Blackbeard's kin?”
“No, sir. Captain Blackbeard's name was Teach and mine is Drummond. He took me prisoner when he attacked the Constant. and I've been held captive ever since. I didn't ask to be his cabin boy.”
The captain walked on to the next man and two sailors came and unceremoniously threw the bodies of Mercy and One-eyed Jack overboard.
I spent the rest of that day crying for Mercy.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
We were taken to Williamsburg and put in a large cell in the town gaol to await trial. On our second day there, I was escorted from the cell by two guards and led into a small room. Inside were a table and two chairs and the soldiers told me to sit and wait. They stood guard outside the door. After about five minutes the door opened and... Watson walked in!
“Wats...!” I exclaimed, but he cut me short, putting a finger to his mouth to quieten me. He sat opposite me and the two guards took position behind him.
“Mister Drummond. My name is Horatio Watson and I am a legal assistant to the Lieutenant Governor. I have been studying Captain Maynard's report of the attack on the Adventure at Ocracoke Inlet and it appears to me that you took no active part in the battle. From Captain Maynard's report I gather that you were, in fact, a prisoner on the Adventure and not part of her crew. And at the time of the battle, you were under guard on a remote island and not even on board the ship. Is that exact?”
“Er... Yes, sir. That's exact. Exactly exact!” I said, nodding enthusiastically.
“I therefore see no reason to detain you here any longer and I will be recommending to the Lieutenant Governor that you be set free forthwith. Guards! Accompany Mister Drummond back to the cells, but don't put him with the others. Give him something to eat and treat him kindly. He won't be with us for long.”
I was taken back, put in a single cell and given some stew and bread. A couple of hours later, the door was opened and a soldier informed me that I was free to go.
Outside the prison I was standing in the shade of a cottonwood tree, unsure of where I should go or what I should do next. A horse-drawn buggy with its top raised pulled up alongside me.
“James, get in quickly.” said Watson.
I climbed in and he set off at a trot, driving us towards the harbor.
On the way, he explained how he had come to be an assistant to the Lieutenant Governor.
“Our encounter with the pirates made me question the wisdom of setting off alone to explore the plant life of Virginia. So I wrote to the Royal Society explaining my plight and asking to be excused from my duties. They were very understanding. Of course, my godfather is on the board, so I daresay that helped things. Anyway, they provided me with a letter of introduction to the Lieutenant Governor himself and as it happened, he was in need of a clerical assistant. So he offered me employment and I have since risen to be a legal assistant to him. Nothing very spectacular, but then, unlike you, I don't think I'm quite suited for the spectacular.”
“Unlike me?”
“Yes, my dear James. Please take back this letter which was in your personal effects.” He handed me my uncle's letter. “It would have been enough to get you hanged, but luckily for you, the average soldier can neither read nor write. You have quite a tale to tell, it would seem, but now is not the right time for that. I think it would be in both of our interests for you to put some distance between us for now. And there is little that I can do for you here, anyway, without arousing suspicion.”
“You've already done more than enough for me, Horatio.”
We had stopped at a hill overlooking the harbor and said our goodbyes.
“Good luck James! Do what your uncle told you; find your fortune and take it to Richmond.”
***
Almost two years after setting sail from Liverpool, I finally reached my intended destination: Richmond, Virginia. I had a considerable fortune, that I had found buried on an islet in Ocracoke Inlet, thanks to the map on Mercy's back. And I also had a wife, Shirley Drummond, the fifteen-year-old widow of my uncle, Blackbeard, the most feared and beloved of all the pirates of the Caribbean.
THE END
APPENDIX
The Game of Morabaraba
The game of Morabaraba evolved in Africa hundreds of years ago as a way of teaching young boys strategic skills when herding cattle. It is still played today by children in Africa and the playing pieces are still known as 'cows'.
It is a game for two players, each of whom have a different colored set of twelve cows which they place on a 'board', which is usually marked out on the ground.
To begin, each player takes his turn to place one of his cows on one of the intersections of the board, with the aim of aligning three of his cows in a row, as in the game of noughts and crosses. These rows, called 'mills' can go in any direction. Once all the cows have been placed, the players move them by sliding them into an adjacent, empty intersection. When a player has successfully created a 'mill' he can 'shoot' one of his opponent's cows which is then out of the game and is removed from the Morabaraba board. A cow cannot be shot if it's in a mill itself, unless all the player's cows are in mills in which case they're all targets. When a cow has been shot it's the end of that turn.
The game is won if your opponent can't make a move or if he only has two cows left.