The Story of Captain Black Bart

“Yes, boy,” he answered me, “I am from Wales, Little Newcastle to be precise.”

I didn’t say anything I could tell he was just getting started.
“I went to sea when I was 13, about your age. It was either join the navy or go hungry, so off I went. We worked on ships bringing sugar and cotton back from the Indies. It was awful – the things I saw… I felt so bad for those men working on the plantations, the merchants and plantation owners treated ‘em so bad and it wasn’t even their goddamned land to start with!”

Wow, imagine having to work at 13 years old.
“Do you mean slaves?” I asked, just figuring out what he was talking about.
He nodded. “Our ship, the Barbados Sloop, got destroyed. We waited on the island they call ‘Jamaica’ until another British ship came by.”

Being stranded in Jamaica didn’t seem like a bad thing to me, but I guess it was different in this time.

“The next ship to come was the Abraham Plumb, they took us on a deck hands and it wasn’t until we were on our way to Africa I realized it was a slave ship. I’d been sent below deck for supplies and seen the chains all lined up ready for the next cargo load of men to take from Africa to the West Indies. The smell was so pungent I had to run out as fast as I could. I felt so sorry for those men, being kidnapped from their villages and shipped halfway across the world to work on fields for us, the people who’d stolen the islands from the Native Americans anyway. That’s why I was so happy when our ship was attacked off the coast of Ghana. The pirates who captured our ship hated slavery and as punishment forced us to be slaves for them. The pirate captain was another Welshman, Howell Davis, and he soon realized I could navigate these oceans better than any other navy officer he’d met.”

I found a diagram of how slaves were crammed into ships that took them from West Africa to the Indies ad American Colonies

‘Wow this man has lived,’ I thought.

A real photo of a slave ship from the 1800s

“Howell died pretty soon after he promoted me from slave to navigator and then the crew voted me in as captain. At that time we’d been going round Guinea, stealing from merchant ships while they were busy trying to force Jesus on the natives. But they’d caught onto our tricks, so we dumped our ‘slaves’ (the original British navy slave ship crew) in Guinea and set sail for Brazil.”

“I grew tired of being like other pirates, this tit for tat, attacking each other and fighting between us. And then drinking in the same taverns when we reached the shores. We all had the same enemies – the merchant navy – and we’d all been mistreated by them. Lots of pirates were slaves who’d escaped the ships and plantations, or people like me who’s been forced to work on a trade that exploited the slaves. Our crew was the best, we’d plunder and disable navy ships releasing slaves, either inviting them to join us, or helping them find a route back to West Africa. Just before our ship was captured, we’d taken over 400 ships and so much loot we didn’t know what to do with it! No wonder the navy put all their efforts into capturing us!”

“Wow!” I said, genuinely impressed, there’s no way anyone could get away with that today.

“Yeah and you know how I was so successful?”

“No, sir?”
“Unlike the other pirates, we didn’t drink alcohol till we couldn’t stand, we traded loot for tea and fine foods so we could keep our strength up and not suffer the painful effects of intoxication. We dressed well and respected each other – no one lived in fear and we shared our riches – not like working for the navy where you were always hungry and tired and the commanders took all the loot for themselves. You know, if the navy had just treated their sailors better, they wouldn’t have so many of ’em running off to be pirates.”

“So how did you end up here?” I asked. Looking around at the prison surroundings and dank woolen clothes we were both wearing.

“Well, even though I was the most successful pirate ever…”

“And modest,” I mumbled, thankfully he didn’t hear.
“…Even I couldn’t escape the entire navy – I’d ripped through the Caribbean, taking over 100 British ships and ruining all their fun. This whole slave business really bothered me and I let it cloud my judgment. I targeted the Royal Africa Company’s biggest ship – we released hundreds of slaves and tipped all the sugar and cotton into the sea. But I didn’t realize the navy had been tracking me and had us surrounded. We tried to fight back, but the slave ship we’d captured was made for transporting cargo and slaves, not for battle. Our cannon balls and arrows ran out too fast and we were boarded after only half a day’s fighting. I was sure we’d be killed, but we were too important to just throw into the sea – they were going to make an example of us.”

“So this is how you got to Edinburgh then?”
“Yes, boy, and for sure I’m, well, we’re all, to be hanged. I’m sorry. I know I promised you a better life, riches, music and fair treatment. It’s my fault we were captured, those damn slave traders just get me so mad, you know?”

 

He stood up and carried on scratching waves underneath the ship carving he’d made on the wall. I watched with interest remembering that there was definitely a sail that I’m sure I’d seen on the one from the 21^st century, but it wasn’t there. Should I tell him? If I didn’t and he didn’t draw it, how did that extra sail get on there in the present day? If I did, then maybe it was there because I’d told him 300 years ago? Woah! This was messing with my head.

“Oh! He turned to me digging me in the ribs with my elbow, I forgot the main sail, boy!”

Then he started scratching the main sail on – phew!

When he’d dozed off, i quickly took a photo of his carving with my phone, it didn’t come out that great, but i couldn’t risk anyone seeing me taking another one.

And it was then that I realised I was stuck in a dungeon waiting to be hanged for treason – I needed to get out!

The Real Pirates of the Caribbean

I pressed the green button. The familiar whirring sound came closer and closer until…nothing.

I landed in a dark corner of a damp and smelly room. It was so dark it took a while for my eyes to adjust. The clothes SHARP had left for me this time were more modern than the medieval stuff I’d gotten used to. I had some black woolly trousers, and a white shirt that was so grubby it was practically brown – the armpits and neck were stiff, which was presumably from someone else’s sweat – gross!

Once I’d got dressed, I followed the walls round towards some voices. The further I went into the darkness the creepier it got. I had to step over a few men chained to the wall by their wrists, some let out this awful groan whilst others were totally silent – I’m not sure which was worse.

I walked into a large circular opening. Some men were sat on the floor playing some kind of game, which involved moving pieces of cloth around grids scratched into the floor. Other guys were sat around talking. I couldn’t make out what they were saying – they had really strong Welsh accents, which was kind of strange.

I wandered over to a group sat against a wall, just talking; I avoided the game in case I got dragged in and they realized I had no idea how to play.

“Hey, Thomas,” some guy called out to me. “Why you up? Stop wasting your energy, we’ll not get fed for another day at least!”

I sat down with my back against the damp wall, feeling pretty guilty about the massive burger and chips I’d just eaten back in my time. Opposite me a man was concentrating hard on a spot on the wall, scraping at it with his fingernails. Just the thought of it set my teeth on edge, like fingernails down a blackboard, or the squeaky noise you get when you rub two pieces of polystyrene together – blurgh!

Suddenly he had turned around and whilst I was thinking about polystyrene he’d noticed I was staring at him. Then he beckoned me over. I got up slowly and shuffled over to him, copying the movements of some of the other guys.

Behind me, the man who’d told me to save my energy was whispering to the person next to him, “Black Bart’s talking today then.”

So that was Black Bart.

I stood and watched as he scraped away layers of sandstone with his fingernails; the sound made me feel really icky to start with then it kind of slipped into my subconscious as I began to recognize what he was carving – it was the ship I’d seen on this same wall back in the 21^st century.

And then I realized he’d missed a sail with an intricate skull and cross bone off the front end. I wondered how it was there in the future if he hadn’t done it in the past? Or maybe he did it later. The ship was complete apart from that and it spanned nearly half a metre across the wall. It must’ve taken him ages!

All that was left now, from what I could remember, was the waves and he was slowly etching away at them now.

“You’re new, boy?” he asked me eventually.
“Yeah,” I said.
“I’m sorry about all this,” he said and slid down the wall and then motioned for me to sit down next to him. “I promised all these men a better life, better than working for those corrupt snakes in the merchant navy.”

He sighed. And as his shoulders fell, you could see his clothes that looked like they stretched over his frame, now sagged off his skinny body.

“Is that why you joined me boy?”
“Errr…” I had no idea what to say. His accent was so strong I could hardly understand him. “Are you Welsh?” I asked and then immediately felt stupid.
“You don’t know much about me, do you boy?” He said.

Usually I hated being called ‘boy’, like by teachers and that, but he had an air of authority, it kind of commanded my respect.

“No, sir,” I admitted. If only I’d paid more attention to the tour guide the other day.
“Well, we’ve got plenty of time now,” he laughed, “I’ll let you in my story…”

 

Edinburgh Castle

Griff’s Aunt took us to Edinburgh castle today, she said it was, like, the most famous landmark in Scotland and she couldn’t bear for us to come all this way and not bother seeing it.

We caught the bus from her house and then had to walk for ages to get the castle. It was huge and on top of this massive hill, which used to be a volcano apparently. We all thought that was pretty cool.  There were loads of people queueing to get in, but luckily Griff’s Aunt had booked ahead and we walked right past everyone.

We went on a guided tour with a load of tourists who kept taking pictures of literally everything. The tour seemed to go on for ages; we went in loads of different rooms and museum-type areas. The tour guide went on about the whole history of the castle, and I knew I should be more interested in historical stuff, especially now I was travelling back in time, but it was just so boring and even though I tried really hard to pay attention, my thoughts kept drifting away.

Jacobites, old kings, the English, the Scottish, the Anglo Saxons, Unions, French Revolution – how was one castle involved in all of this stuff? I totally lost track until they took us to a courtyard, which had the biggest cannon you have ever seen in your life!

It was huge! Apparently the biggest cannon ever used in actually warfare and was destroyed on purpose by the English when they were firing it to celebrate the coronation of some King of other. They said some of the cannonballs actually weigh as much as a car – can you believe that?

We spent ages climbing on the cannons and taking stupid pictures…

…and then the guide took us to the coolest bit of the whole castle – the dungeons.

The whole place was pretty dark and smelly and the ceilings were really low. Mark and Griff almost had to duck to get round some parts.

“Why is it so low?” they asked.

“People weren’t as tall as they are now, hundreds of years ago,” I said without thinking.

“Hmm,” said Mark.

‘How dya know that?” said Griff.

“History lessons,” I lied.

They room smelt like that the ghost train queue at Alton Towers. They said the dungeons were used right up to the 1900s and held French prisoners, but get this, they were also for Pirates. All the walls had these awesome carvings in them where people had written where they were from, their names and family members they missed. They weren’t given any tools, the guide said, so they must have used their fingers to carve away at the stone. One person had carved a whole ship into the wall; sails, ropes and everything!

When we came out of the castle, the sunlight was blinding. Griff’s Aunt led us back down the hill and bought us all an ice cream. We sat in the park below looking back up the hill and it was all great until Griff’s Aunt mentioned that all those roads we could see leading down to us used to be sewers and we were basically sitting on top of a massive cesspit. Nice!

And if it couldn’t get any worse, it reached for my phone to take a picture and it wasn’t in my pocket (so I had to ge this one from the internet). We searched all our bags and pockets but it had totally gone. What a disaster, how would SHARP contact me now?