University of Virginia Library

1. I.

“The narrative,” said our raconteur, “which I am about to
give you, was related to me by one of our oldest inhabitants, a
planter who is still living at the advanced period of eighty years,

and who ranks not less venerably from worth than age. He
heard it from those who claimed to have known personally some
of the parties to the history, and who fully believed the truth
of the story which they told. The period of the narrative was,
perhaps, a quarter of a century before the Revolution.

“You are all aware that from 1670 to 1750, using round numbers,
the buccaneers, leagued of all nations, no longer confining
themselves to the Spanish galleons, which were always held to
be fair prey to the British cruisers, made the commerce of Britain
herself finally their prey, and literally haunted with daily terrors
the coasts of Virginia and the two Carolinas, as well as
the West Indies, making spoil of their rich and but little protected
productions. Their crews, composed of the scum of all
nations — British, French, Dutch, Portuguese, and Spaniards —
discriminated in behalf of none; and so loose were British and
American morals at that period — (have they very much improved
since?) — that the people of the provinces themselves — their
very governors — were greatly inclined to countenance the flibustiers
(French corruption of freebooters) in all those cases of
piracy where they themselves were not the immediate sufferers.
They drove a profitable trade with the marauders, who were
sometimes to be seen walking the streets of the Atlantic cities
with the most perfect impunity. Captain Kidd, for a long time,
was the great master-spirit of these wretches. His successor in
audacity, insolence, and crime, was the infamous Blackbeard,
the nom du guerre by which he preferred that the world should
read his character. His proper name, Edward Teach, was, in
itself, innocent enough.

“Blackbeard particularly affected the coasts of Carolina.
The waters over which we now go were the favorite fields of
his performance. Harbored among these islands — Bull's, Dewee's,
Caper's, Sullivan, Seewee, and others — he lay in close
watch for the white sails of commerce. He explored all these
bays and harbors, and knew their currents and bearings well,
from the cape of Hatteras to that of Florida reef. He had
command of a complete squadron, including vessels of nearly
all sizes. His flag was hoisted upon a forty-gun ship, the crew
of which consisted of more than a hundred men. His captains
were Vane, Bonnet, Warley, and others, inferior to himself only

in hardihood and skill. Somewhere about 1713, a proclamation
had been issued by the king in council, promising a pardon
to all the pirates who should surrender themselves in twelve
months. Blackbeard was one of those who, either through a
cunning policy, meant to delude the powers which he feared he
should not so readily escape, or under a sudden uneasiness of
conscience, presented himself before Governor Eden, of North
Carolina, pleaded the king's pardon, and received the governor's
certificate. Eden, by the way, was one of those governors of
whom history speaks, as having received the bribes of the
pirates, and kept up a criminal but profitable connection with
Blackbeard in particular.

“Blackbeard, the better to prove his resolve to demean himself
for the future with Christian propriety, married his thirteenth
wife, a young girl of Pamplico. But he could not long forbear
his riotous habits, or forego his passion for adventures upon the
sea. He was soon again on board a smart cruiser, and reaping
the fields of ocean with the sword. He sailed upon a cruise,
carrying his new wife with him, and shortly returned with a
valuable prize, a French ship laden with sugar and cocoa, which
he had no difficulty in persuading the court of admiralty he
had found at sea, abandoned by her crew. She was adjudged
as a lawful prize to her unlawful captors. Here our narrative
begins. Thus far, our facts are strictly historical — except, perhaps,
in regard to the fact stated, that his new wife, the girl of
Pamplico, accompanied him on this cruise. But the fact, omitted
by history, is supplied by tradition, which asserts that the
girl herself figured somewhat in the incidents connected with
the capture of the French prize.

“Blackbeard steered south when he left the river of Cape
Fear. The season was mild, late spring — the seas smooth —
the winds fresh and favorable. Soon they espied the French
brigantine laying her course, due east from the tropical islands.

“As he beheld his new prey, the savage chief — who, in
taking the oath and receiving the king's pardon from the royal
governor, had not denuded himself of a single hair of that
enormous forest of beard which literally covered his face, head,
and breast, and from which he took his name — chucked his new
wife under the chin, and swore a terrible oath that the girl should

see sights, should drink of the wine of the Indies, and enjoy
their fruits, and be clad in the beautiful silks of the Frenchman.

“All sail was clapped on for pursuit. The Frenchman knew
his danger, at a glance. Not more certainly does the flying-fish
know his enemy the dolphin, or the tunny the swordfish, or the
sailor the shark, than the simple trader the deadly danger of that
pirate foe, who combined all the terrible characteristics of these
several marauders of the sea. Fleet was the Frenchman in flight,
but, unhappily, fleeter far was the outlaw in pursuit. Very precious
was the Frenchman's cargo; one more precious still,
among his passengers, was the fair creole wife of the young
merchant, Louis Chastaign, now, for the first time, preparing to
visit the birthplace of her husband. They, too, were soon made
aware of the danger, and, while the wife watched, and prayed,
and trembled, the young husband got his cutlass and his carabine
in readiness, and prepared to do battle to the last in defence
of the precious treasure of his heart.

“But his resolution was not to be indulged. The captain of
the merchantman had no adequate force for resistance, and he
prepared for none. He shook his head when Louis Chastaign
spoke of it, and appeared on deck with his weapons.

“`It will not do, Monsieur Louis.'

“`And shall we yield tamely to these wretches? They are
pirates!'

“`I fear so. But they are two to one. We have no arms.
What can a dozen swords and pistols do against a hundred
men?'

“`Better die bravely fighting than basely to offer our throats
to the knife.'

“`Nay, our hope is that they will content themselves with
robbing us of our treasures.'

“The young merchant turned with a look of agony on his
beautiful creole. He knew what the appetites of the pirates
were. He feared for the one treasure, over all, and thought
nothing of the rest, though the better portion of the ship's cargo
was his own. The chase was nearing fast. The Frenchman
continued to try his heels, but in vain.

“`He gains rapidly, Monsieur Louis. Put away your weapons,

my friend; the very show of them may provoke him to
cruelty.'

“The poor young man was compelled to submit, yet, in putting
his weapons out of sight, he felt as if his treasure was
already gone.

“`Is there really so much danger, Louis?' asked the trembling
woman of her husband. He could only shake his head
mournfully in reply. Then she kissed the cross which she had
in her hand, and hid it away in her bosom, and followed her
young lord upon the deck of the vessel.

“At that moment, the cannon belched forth its fires from the
pursuing pirate; the iron missiles shot through the rigging of the
Frenchman, and with a groan he ordered sail to be taken in;
and prepared for submission to the enemy from whom there was
no escape.