“Even with the lightened sloop, Maynard found, however, that he could not come to grips with Teach’s vessel, and so, piling his men into small boats, the lieutenant headed for the stranded pirate, intending to board her. But long before they could gain the vessel’s sides they were met with such a galling musketry fire that they were compelled to retreat with twenty-nine men killed and wounded.
“This was, indeed, a wretched beginning, but Maynard was a resourceful man and, ordering his men below decks, so that only himself and the helmsman remained in sight, he allowed his sails to flap and swing as though he had no men able to handle the sloop and with the slowly rising tide crept constantly closer to the pirates.
“Thinking they had won the day and that Maynard’s men were utterly done for, Teach and his crew roared out boisterous songs and taunts and prepared to leap onto the sloop’s decks and butcher the two remaining men and any wounded who might be lying about. A moment later the two vessels touched. With a terrible oath and a [[228]]savage yell, Blackbeard sprang through the smoke to the sloop’s decks with his shouting crew at his heels, and with swirling, gleaming cutlasses they rushed towards Maynard and his helmsman. Then, up from their hiding place in the hold, poured the sloop’s crew, and instantly the battle raged fast and furiously. The pirates, surprised, gave back a bit, the lieutenant’s men fought like furies, and back and forth across the bloody decks the battle surged. Teach had singled out Maynard and, whipping out pistols, both fired at the same instant. Blackbeard’s shot missed, but the bullet from the lieutenant’s pistol found its mark in the pirate’s face. With blood streaming from the wound and dripping from the braided ends of his long beard, eyes blazing with fury, and yelling with anger and pain, the pirate threw aside his useless pistol and leaped at the lieutenant with swinging cutlass. But Maynard was a splendid swordsman. As Blackbeard, cursing and shouting that he would hack the other’s heart from his body, leaped forward, the officer’s sword met his, steel clanged on steel, and the pirate found himself balked, held off, driven back.
“It was a terrible duel,—the struggle of enormous brute strength against skill,—and with terrific [[229]]slashing blows and savage lunges Blackbeard strove to break down the other’s guard, to disarm him or to snap his blade. Here and there across the decks they fought and swayed and panted, stumbling over dead and wounded men, slipping in pools of blood, bumping into fighting knots of pirates and seamen. Both were bleeding from a dozen wounds, both were near exhaustion, both were spent, and both knew that it was but a question of moments ere one would fall. And then, with a tremendous blow, Blackbeard brought his heavy cutlass swinging down, the lighter blade of the officer’s snapped at the hilt, and with a blood-curdling, triumphant yell the pirate swung his cutlass up, whirled it about his head and aimed a death-dealing blow at Maynard’s head. Quick as a flash the lieutenant leaped aside, the stroke fell short, and Maynard escaped with the loss of three fingers lopped off by that terrible blow.
“Before the pirate could raise his weapon again one of Maynard’s men had leaped forward, his cutlass fell upon the back of Blackbeard’s neck, almost severing the head from the body, and with a crimson fountain spouting from the awful gash the pirate turned and cut his assailant to the chin with a single blow. But despite his ghastly [[230]]wound the pirate chieftain was still standing, still defiant, still fighting. All about, the decks were a shambles, his men were lying dead and wounded, half a dozen of Maynard’s men were attacking him. Kicking off his shoes to get a better foot-hold on the bloody deck, bellowing like a maddened bull, blood streaming from over twenty-five wounds, with his half-severed head lolling hideously upon his chest, but still defiant, Blackbeard backed against the bulwarks and slashed and lunged, keeping his enemies at bay until, as his life blood poured over his chest and beard and trickled to the decks, his muscles weakened and his blows grew less. Then, suddenly whipping a pistol from his belt, he made one last desperate effort to shoot down the lieutenant. But before he could press the trigger, before a man could strike the weapon up, his knees sagged, his eyelids closed, and with a gurgling, awful moan he sank lifeless to the deck.
“Few of the pirates remained alive, none were unwounded. Those who had the strength leaped overboard, attempting to escape, but all were captured; Blackbeard and his men were wiped out and the only member of the pirates who had escaped was the sailing master, Israel Hands. [[231]]Nursing the bullet wound in his knee, which had been so playfully inflicted by Blackbeard, he was safe ashore. Doubtless he most heartily gave thanks for his dead captain’s form of humor and blessed the wound that gave him a stiff leg for life.
“Maynard’s losses, too, were tremendous; many of his men had been killed, scarcely one had escaped without serious wounds, but they forgot their hurts, for they were triumphant. Thirteen pirate prisoners were safe in irons in the sloop’s hold, the grewsome, awful head of the redoubtable Blackbeard was lashed to the tip of the bowsprit, and, hoisting sail, Maynard set forth for Bath Town, North Carolina, to claim his well-earned reward and exhibit his bloody trophy. There the thirteen prisoners were promptly hanged, Teach’s black-whiskered, blood-clotted head, with the burnt-out fuses still in the tangled hair, was placed in the market square, and the promised rewards were duly paid to the courageous lieutenant and his daring men.”
“Jiminy!” exclaimed Fred. “That must have been some fight! Was that the end of the pirates?”
“Practically,” replied Mr. Bickford. “Teach [[232]]was the last pirate of note. There were a few who still lurked in the Caribbean, but the Atlantic coasts and the West Indies were getting too hot for them. Such rascals, as Low, England, Roberts and Avery, transferred their activities to more out-of-the-way spots, to Africa, Madagascar and the Indian Ocean, and the last of the West Indian pirates were dispersed and destroyed by Lieutenant, afterwards Commodore, Porter, who also wiped out the Tripolitan pirates.”
“But how about Lafitte and his pirates?” asked Jack. “I thought they lived until the time of the war of 1812 and helped General Jackson at the battle of New Orleans.”