The word conjures up visions of ferocious men with pistol in hand, knife in mouth, clothes stained with blood, planks run out of a ship’s side, and unfortunate, blindfolded men being driven to their death; treasure in galore; high jinks ashore till the call for action came again.

A pretty picture—perhaps; and only too well founded on fact.

When, in 1689, France and England joined hands in the determination to sweep the buccaneer from the seas, and to effect this closed all used harbours to him, the ruffian adopted new methods. As we have seen, the buccaneers were something of a community, recognised up to a point by different nations, and the French and English buccaneers waged private war against the Spaniard. The assumption of so much power, as shown by Morgan, made the nations anxious, and the result was that when they decided to put an end to the buccaneer, whether he only attacked Spaniards or not, that worthy, finding himself a general outcast, declared against everybody; he became a pirate to whom no ship was immune.

Previously the scourges of the sea had been able to use frequented harbours to dispose of their prisoners and treasure; now they found themselves compelled to find new ports, and these were generally desert islands. Here they marooned their prisoners, or hid their treasure against the time when they could come and dig it up.

To take Blackbeard first.

Blackbeard was his nickname, given him because of the long whiskers that he wore, tied up with ribbons on occasions, if you please! Altogether Captain Edward Teach, to give him his right name, was a somewhat picturesque ruffian, with a sling over his shoulders to carry three brace of pistols, lighted matches under his hat, his beribboned beard and his flamboyant costume made up of things he had purloined during his cruises. He began life as a seaman on a privateer, rising to the command of a sloop in 1716. The sloop, by the way, was a prize captured by his friend Captain Hornygold, with whom in 1717 Teach sailed on a voyage down the American mains. After a fairly prosperous cruise the pirates parted company, Teach having command of a new prize, a large French Guineaman, and Hornygold going to Providence, where he surrendered to the King’s mercy, probably having had enough of the life adventurous and realising that a recent proclamation gave him an opportunity to leave his profession without sacrificing his life.

Blackbeard, however, was but just beginning, as it were, and he turned his Guineaman into a formidable fighting ship, mounting forty guns in her, and giving her the new name of the Queen Anne’s Revenge. All being ready, he sailed, and almost immediately fell in with a large ship called the Great Allen, off the Isle of St. Vincent. He soon overcame any resistance made, took out of her all that he wanted, marooned the crew, set fire to the ship, and sent her drifting out to sea, a flaming testimony to the methods he was going to adopt in his profession.

A day or so afterwards he came up against a different kind of ship; she was an English man-o’-war, the Scarborough, thirty guns. There was a fine set-to for some hours, for Teach was nothing loath to accept a really good scrap when the opportunity arose, especially when, as in this case, he was stronger than his foe. The guns blared out their thunderous music, there were some near shaves for boarding; but in the end the Scarborough found that she had undertaken too big a task, and sheered off. Mighty pleased, Teach now got swelled head, and felt himself strong enough for anything, and felt stronger still when, sailing for the Spanish Main, he joined forces with another pirate, Major Bonnet, who, finding a planter’s life too monotonous, had taken to the sea as a gentleman adventurer. Teach soon found out that Bonnet was no sailorman, and likely to be more bother than he was worth in command of a ship; so he put one of his comrades named Richards in command of the sloop and took Bonnet on his own ship. It was no good Bonnet protesting; Teach spoke, and it was! He was an autocrat, this merry pirate!

The two vessels now put in at Turneffe, near the Gulf of Honduras, to take in water, and while doing this an unfortunate sloop, the Adventure, came along; whereupon Richards slipped out after her. All unsuspecting, the Adventure held on. Then came consternation—the pirate had hoisted the Jolly Roger!

And the Adventure struck and surrendered, which gave Teach another ship for his little Armada. Then away to Honduras, where they discovered a large ship, the Protestant Cæsar (Captain Wyar) and four sloops. Sailing boldly in, the pirates hoisted the black flag, banged away at the ships, and called upon them to surrender. Immediately Wyar and his crew took to a boat and raced ashore, leaving the Protestant Cæsar at the mercy of the pirates, who took possession, and after rifling her, burnt her, as they did one of the sloops. The other three they let go.