Read Fire on Dark Water Online
Authors: Wendy Perriman
Fire on Dark Water (26 page)
Meanwhile, the natives were sampling the rum and, not being accustomed to that manner of drink, the men fell silly and rowdy and the women had to relax their vigilance to attend to the ensuing dramas. Some kind of ruckus ended with two of the braves slumped in a death-grip on the blades of each other’s axes, and somewhere among the huts tiny voices started wailing. Slouchy said this was the worst of it—for the men were left to reflect on their impending horrible death. A thousand melancholy thoughts tortured the poor sailors’ minds and the remaining victims mumbled words of consolation while offering up snippets of prayer. The fighting eventually gave way to heaves of vomit, and then the sluggish snores of the bold young bucks as they succumbed to the weight of inebriation. The natives apparently forgot to light their fire so the five remaining captives shivered through the longest night imaginable until harsh streaks of dawn seared the sky.
The early light revealed the macabre scene to the watchers on the ship so the captain immediately readied the longboat to launch the moment the waters changed. He determined that the only chance of rescuing his comrades would be through negotiation. They’d have to pay some hefty ransom. The tribe soon awakened and despite their ill condition they demanded as much of the rum as the ship had stowed in return for their miserable hostages. The boatswain was able to make himself understood and once the deal had been agreed he and the most skilled rowers battled the tide back with the tribal demands. Now, as it happened, they’d only four barrels of rum left full so when the time came to trade, the natives would only release four of the men. The fifth had died from his throat injury. And the sixth man was poor Slouchy. He’d to watch as his crewmen struggled to safety, certain now of his own demise. Then some of the tetchy savages fell into a rage, either because they’d just lost their supper or because they felt there was too little of this wonderful new grog, and unanimously decided to tenderize the lone prisoner’s flesh. So one after the other they approached the stake armed with lengths of wood and pummeled the hapless victim until the skin hung in shreds from his naked torso. Slouchy claims they beat him to the last hourglass of his life. His mind sank under a blanket of blood.
But the sailors back on ship refused to abandon their mate and they urged the captain to try another tack. So a plot was hatched to pretend to sail away, when they really dropped anchor farther along out of sight. The crew found a good spot to invade, moved quickly to catch a suitable tide, and after giving the natives enough time to numb their senses with rum, nineteen armed men crept along the shoreline a few leagues downwind. Slouchy drifted in and out of sensibility until the chief had him cut down from the stake and dragged into the shade to prolong his nightmare. But just as twilight turned the sky to purple the sailors launched their attack. It was as swift as any military operation on board ship and before the tribe knew what was happening, two men had Slouchy slung between them while their comrades provided distraction and cover. A volley of muskets rang out, and the men later boasted several mangled bodies were left as recompense. The tars let the current sweep them back to safety and as soon as the boats were stowed, their ship hauled anchor and sailed away. Slouchy was weak from loss of blood, his limbs were numb, and his fingers shattered, and it took several weeks to restore him to some semblance of health. His hair had turned prematurely white and his skin grew back patchy as a mottled quilt. He wouldn’t never be the same man again of course—but what shocked me most was when he told me he was not yet thirty years old!
When both our sloops were declared ready we broke camp and turned the bowsprits toward Jamaica. Now, we must have been but a half day at sea when the cry of “Sail ahoy! Starboard bow—three points north!” fired every marauder into action. We’d spotted a likely prize.
Blackbeard studied the quarry, then lowered his spy-glass to petition his crew. “Ha! What say you, gentlemen? Fair game, I’d be thinking. . . .” The scoundrels shouted agreement so their captain commanded, “Give chase, Mr. Hands!” And a string of orders flew round the deck. We trimmed our sails and steered close to the wind as able, intent on approaching from the rear. The battle of seamanship was in play. Our prey was a buxom, heavily laden sloop and, at first sight of trouble, it broke out as much canvas as possible, hoping to outrun our smaller vessels but, unfortunately for them, the air was small and thin and we were able to level with their port. The
Adventure
positioned itself for a broadside attack, unfurled its new Jolly Roger, and fired a warning shot across the bow, while the
Revenge
stayed aft out of range. Seeing they were heavily outnumbered, the crew lowered their own flag in surrender and put their officers into a longboat on first command. The captives rowed over to Blackbeard’s deck and were greeted with, “Good day to you, gentlemen. Welcome aboard!” Their captain was first to be brusquely dragged up the ladder. I squatted on the steps of the roundhouse, poking my head out to watch the drama.
Adventure
positioned itself for a broadside attack, unfurled its new Jolly Roger, and fired a warning shot across the bow, while the
Revenge
stayed aft out of range. Seeing they were heavily outnumbered, the crew lowered their own flag in surrender and put their officers into a longboat on first command. The captives rowed over to Blackbeard’s deck and were greeted with, “Good day to you, gentlemen. Welcome aboard!” Their captain was first to be brusquely dragged up the ladder. I squatted on the steps of the roundhouse, poking my head out to watch the drama.
Teach held a cutlass to the victim’s throat and manhandled him by the scruff of his jacket as he began the inquisition. “ ’ Twere wise of you to have no truck with Satan, you chickenhearted dog!” he roared. I watched in fascination as Blackbeard hoisted the quivering man off his feet and peered grimly into the terrified face. Meanwhile, Lieutenant Richards had grappled the bulwarks of the prize from the starboard side and was encouraging his men to bring her close enough to board. As soon as she was tied alongside, a ferocious yell burst forth as the pirates scurried over to plunder her belly. The sloop was a merchant vessel from Charles Towne carrying flour, beans, and rice to the Virgin Islands, alongside bolts of cloth, a ton of tar, and some miscellaneous cordage and ironware. She’d been chartered by a consortium of plantation owners wanting to trade their sugar cane, and was named the
Mary Jane
. I realized—with growing concern—this was no enemy craft. She was British. The imprisoned captain had now been joined by his three officers, who all ceremoniously gave up their swords, and as soon as their longboat was raised up they were hauled out onto the deck. Teach’s men crowded in and beat the captives to their knees with the blunt sides of their weapons. Then they circled like feisty sharks savoring the stench of fear.
Mary Jane
. I realized—with growing concern—this was no enemy craft. She was British. The imprisoned captain had now been joined by his three officers, who all ceremoniously gave up their swords, and as soon as their longboat was raised up they were hauled out onto the deck. Teach’s men crowded in and beat the captives to their knees with the blunt sides of their weapons. Then they circled like feisty sharks savoring the stench of fear.
Blackbeard flipped the tip of his cutlass and sliced a slither of flesh from the captain’s ear, drawing enough blood to warrant his full attention. “Who be you?” he demanded. “Who and what?”
The petrified man tried to swallow his horror and replied, “Captain Elridge of the
Mary Jane
. . .” And perhaps hoping for clemency he added, “Out of London via Charles Towne.”
Mary Jane
. . .” And perhaps hoping for clemency he added, “Out of London via Charles Towne.”
“Where headed?” Garrat Gibbens demanded to know. He kneed one of the other officers hard in the jaw splitting his lower lip like an overripe pepper for emphasis.
The beaten face looked tentatively toward his attacker as the captain added, “Tortola . . . the plantations.”
“What goods aboard?” the one-eyed rogue yelled into his damaged ear.
“Er . . . general provisions,” he said. A dagger at the back of his neck caused him to further elucidate so he mumbled, “Flour . . . rice . . . scullery items . . . some tar and cordage . . . a few bales of cloth . . . a little whiskey.”
“Any women?” Bob Dilly asked hopefully.
The prisoner shook his head vigorously before proclaiming, “We ain’t no Guineaman.” Dilly spat a tarry gob onto the top of his hair in disgust.
“How many hands?” Teach quizzed.
“A dozen,” came the instant response. “Benson’s my second. . . .” and he indicated to the victim left of his back, “And Smith here’s my sailing master.” Smith was the man about to vomit at his rear. The remaining crew member turned out to be the boatswain—a mangy character with half his face sewn up—who went by the name of Kelly.
“All secure, Cap’n!” Howard cried from below mast of the prize, and when I peered over the side I could see the remaining members of the
Mary Jane
sprawled facedown on the planks. I was surprised how the vessel had been captured with so little resistance, but that was before I’d been briefed by my wry and cunning husband.
Mary Jane
sprawled facedown on the planks. I was surprised how the vessel had been captured with so little resistance, but that was before I’d been briefed by my wry and cunning husband.
Of course, if you ain’t never sailed with freebooters I’ll wager you don’t understand their natures any better than I did back then. You likely think pirates savor the brimstone and gunpowder—the guts and smoke—the power of wretched, wrenched screams? But what they really want is a quick surrender that don’t destroy any booty before they can loot it. And a peaceful fight where none of their own gets hurt. Clever men like Teach understood how the greater concern you instilled in your prey the easier it is to take them down. So he noted the ways his victims responded and learned to manipulate their most harrowing dread. Some folks still consider Blackbeard the most formidable sea villain ever—and as I’ve thought long and deep on this subject I can finally give you my insight.
A captain must be courageous and brave—unafraid of personal injury or death—and this came easy to Teach, who thrived on the aching excitement of testing his brawn to the limit. The commander must be a skilled tactician who instinctively knew how those on the prize would react to a given situation—and my husband could read in advance any seaman who ever set sail on these dark waters. Blackbeard was, without doubt, an excellent navigator who could maneuver his vessel exactly where it needed to be, always one league ahead with the trick and surprise. And he understood better than most the intoxication of fear—that if you sap the spirit of your opponents you also crush their defiance. My husband was master of intimidation, heavily armed as he roared into battle, a demon in flight to behold. Indeed, Blackbeard wanted folks to believe he was the devil incarnate. But most cleverly of all he let most of his victims live to tell their mortifying stories, thereby promoting his carefully constructed mythology. Dead men tell no tales—but Teach wanted tongues to brag of his deeds and spread afar the terror, so instead of butchering his victims he’d set them loose on some desolate spot where eventually someone would find them.
O
nce the crew of the
Mary Jane
was secured Blackbeard stood guard while his men pillaged, ransacked, and formed a human chain to move the food stock across to Slouchy’s storeroom, and any other valuables to the quartermaster’s hold for safekeeping. The prisoners on both decks were stripped to their breeches, then bound hand and foot in awkward sitting positions. They watched in dismay as their clothes were thrown in a heap to be auctioned at the mast to the highest bidder. Someone found the whiskey, and bottle after bottle was passed liberally between the outlaws. Blackbeard encouraged the liquor to take effect before boarding the captured sloop and performing a dramatic speech to his quaking audience.
nce the crew of the
Mary Jane
was secured Blackbeard stood guard while his men pillaged, ransacked, and formed a human chain to move the food stock across to Slouchy’s storeroom, and any other valuables to the quartermaster’s hold for safekeeping. The prisoners on both decks were stripped to their breeches, then bound hand and foot in awkward sitting positions. They watched in dismay as their clothes were thrown in a heap to be auctioned at the mast to the highest bidder. Someone found the whiskey, and bottle after bottle was passed liberally between the outlaws. Blackbeard encouraged the liquor to take effect before boarding the captured sloop and performing a dramatic speech to his quaking audience.
“I’m the one folks call Blackbeard,” he began, “cap’n of the
Adventure
and the
Revenge
.” He paused for his name to sink into their panic-pickled brains. “I’m sorry you won’t be having your vessel back—for I scorn to do anyone such a mischief—but as it be to our advantage we’ll be taking her with us.” He shouted to his sailing master, “Mr. Hands! Have you a mind to captain this craft?”
Adventure
and the
Revenge
.” He paused for his name to sink into their panic-pickled brains. “I’m sorry you won’t be having your vessel back—for I scorn to do anyone such a mischief—but as it be to our advantage we’ll be taking her with us.” He shouted to his sailing master, “Mr. Hands! Have you a mind to captain this craft?”
The surprised sailor beamed back, “Aye, Cap’n Teach. I’ve taken a fancy to her sure enough.”
“Does any man raise objection?” Teach asked. No one spoke out against the appointment so he grandly announced, “Let that be her new name then, Cap’n Hands. Hereafter—we’ll call her
Fancy
.”
Fancy
.”
Blackbeard’s dark eyes then turned on the shrinking victims scattered around his feet as he continued, “Though you’re a bunch of sneaking puppies who haven’t the courage otherwise to defend yourselves—as are all who submit to be governed by the laws which rich men have made for their own comfort and security—methinks you merely a misguided pack of cowardly whelps acting on the nod of a parcel of hen-hearted numbskulls. They vilify us, the scoundrels do, when there is only this difference—they rob the poor under cover of law, forsooth, and we plunder the rich under the protection of our own courage. Had you not better become one of us than to sneak after these villains for employment?” He paused to focus specifically on each individual victim. “What say you men?” And he hauled them to their feet one by one to answer his personal invitation to join their ranks.
The first sailor grabbed blubbered loudly, “Aye, Cap’n. I’ll go on the account with you. . . .” He was then passed back to Israel Hands, who sliced through his hemp bonds, slapped him on the back in welcome, allowed him to collect his old clothing, and ushered him onto the
Adventure
.
Adventure
.
The next three sailors also vowed to take the articles, but the fifth man answered a defiant, “Nay. Not I.”
“And what, pray, prevents you from following the wise course of your mates?” Blackbeard demanded to know.
“My conscience will not permit me to break the laws of God and man!” he shouted. “And neither should any of yours. . . .” he called to the other tars. Murmuring broke out among the huddled ranks, and two others rejected the path of piracy when it came to be their turn. The rebels now cowered separately from those who’d capitulated but at the end of the round there were only three brave dissenters clinging fiercely to their old faith.
Blackbeard stomped round and round these stubborn tars as he continued with his lecture. “You have devilish scruples and no doubt.” He raised himself to his impressive full length and cried, “But I’m a free prince, and I have as much authority to make war on the whole world as he who has a hundred sail of ships at sea and an army of a hundred-thousand men in the field. And this . . .
my
conscience tells me.” The men stared back with stoic faces, and realizing they wouldn’t be budged, Teach concluded, “Yet I see there is no arguing with suckling kittens who allow superiors to kick them about the place at their leisure.” The captain belched raucously and yelled, “Warm ’em up a bit, gentlemen! And we’ll see who still refuses to join after they’ve done a few laps round the deck.”
my
conscience tells me.” The men stared back with stoic faces, and realizing they wouldn’t be budged, Teach concluded, “Yet I see there is no arguing with suckling kittens who allow superiors to kick them about the place at their leisure.” The captain belched raucously and yelled, “Warm ’em up a bit, gentlemen! And we’ll see who still refuses to join after they’ve done a few laps round the deck.”
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