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THE FLOWERS COLLLCIIOK I 1 50c PER YEAR—SINGLE COPY 5c. .. 9... 99.,. 9... 9— 9 9 :■ 9-r-9 — 9 — 9 — 9‘-9^9 — 9—9-.- 9 — 9 — 9 —— 9-.-9 — 9~9..9—9-.-9-*9..9~.9~ 99-~m0.-9—-9.'9+- 9••■9:-9:-9 99O North Carolina Den of BlacRheard, Last of the Pirates 9:‘9 — 9-.-9-.-9—9^9:-9:-9:-9:-9-*-9:-9-.-t By HILTON CASTLE. Written for CKe Sunny South FEW miles out of Eliza beth City, X. C., on the banks of the Pasquotank river, sits an old brick house, around which clings a talc of the eighteenth century. Of its beginning, no one can tell. Neither is there cognizance of tts early inhabitants. But the tradition runs, and it is a tradition well found ed, that the old house was a favorite retreat of “Blackboard.” the most picturesque sea- rover and scoundrel that ever traversed American waters. It is an historical fact that the water ways hereabouts, in piratical days, swarmed with cut-throat adventurers In the year 1717, says the historian, Fiske, fifteen hundred pirates made their headquarters at Xew Providence, in the Bahama islands, and in the Cape Fear river. PIRATE GOLD Tile beautiful harbor of Charleston was particularly attractive to the sea-rovers, and the same historian is authority for the statement that nearly all the gold and silver used in this colony in its infant days wa« brought in by the buc caneers. When rice-culture reached its zenith in South Carolina, somewhere around 1700. then did the people arise and drive out the pirates, as did Egypt of old, under Pompey, when her grain trade suffered. Xew Providence also engaged them in a tussle, witli the result that the corsairs departed for, the notched shores of North Carolina, w8ie’ t > offered them sweet shelter from their enemies. Albemarle and Pamlico sounds, and the waters around them, became infested witli the rogues. The visitor to the “Old Brick House,” as ’tis generally called, can scarcely im agine a more desirable spot for a ren dezvous of any kind. Even to this day. sequestered, mysterious looking and lonely, this interesting, substantial struc ture rears its head on one of the long, straight stretches of Pasquotank river, adown which many a time, no doubt, looked “Blackboard. the Pirate." A road, some quarter of a mile in length, off of the main road, which leads to the Dismal swamp, points the way to the entrance gate. What fiendish tales could the old place tell of bloody deeds out-Heroding Herod in nefariousness. I—9—9—9—9—9—9—9—9—9—9—9— «••••••#• Old Brick House Where Blackbeard, the Pirate, Lived. Today, how smiling seems the land scape! On one side lies the river, am ber-colored, juniper-tasting, gleaming in the sunlight; on the other, fields afal- low. Above, the sky, cerulian blue. A west wind rustles a carpet of au tumn leaves; some clothes flutter on a line; off in the river a rowboat sways gently, tethered near some evergreen reeds. On the rose-enwreathed porch stands a few hags of cotton. But we halt directly at the foot of the steps. ’Tis here we are to find confirmation strong that we are about to enter the favorite home of “Black- beard.’’ the last of the pirates. Here we have pointed out to us two smooth, large rocks, somewhat resembling mill stones, implanted and showing where the sand has been brushed away from them. It was Colonel R. B. Creecy. the venerable editor of The Elizabeth City Economist, who discovered the plainly- marked letters and date on one of these stones—“E. R. T., 1709.“—the initials of and date when thrived Edward R. Teach, alias “Blackbeard, the Pirate"— boldest, baddest and one of the bravest scoundrels that ever dwelt within the confines of North Carolina. Tills, to Colonel Creecy, confirmed the interest ing tradition that has for more than a century clustered about '.lie “Old Brick House ” Blackbeard was a Britan by birth. Like many another of the Corsairs, like his rival in fame. Captain Kidd, lie had sailed as a privateer, and was graduate of the Spanish main. Many are the ,.9...9.~9...9...9...9 — —:*9-'9-~9~9-—--9—9~»-9-—~9~9~9~9-~9~9~9~9-~9-+9-9~9~9-9"»9~9~9-» 9—• 9 — 9:■ 9-9*9*9- 9-. • He was fond of playing hideous pranks. One day, perhaps in anticipation, he said to some of his men; “Come, let us make a hell of our own. and try liotv long we ran heer it.’’ With which he and they descended Into the hold of tlie vessel, when his satanic majesty set tire to sev eral pots of sulphur. When they were wellnigh asphyxiated, they returned to daylight again, his majesty being the last to ascend. One night he cockl’d two pistols, and blowing out flic light, crossed liis dark deeded hands and discharged them, laming one of the company. Being asked to explain, he answered; “If I did not now and then kill one of you, you would forget who I am ” But all this while we are standing on the threshold of the “Old Brick House.” Li t us enter. A wide hall runs its entire length, showing on either side two good- sized rooms. An old-fashioned staircase leads fc. ;ui attic, which has gable ends. We turn studious eyes upon the odd, brown-stained paneling, which savors somewhat of secrecy. The large front room to the right, from an artistic point of view, is the masterpiece of the house; for her?. is a marvelous fireplace, which only an artist could describe. Over the huge, glowing logs, suspended from a trammel, is an iron pot in which some thing is cooking. All the rooms seem to have the paneling. We are shown here, on the well-scoured floor, blood stains, which our aicerone tells us was the work of the impious pirates. SECRET CLOSETS. The room to the rear of this one would b ethe chef 'd'acuvre from a corsair’s viewpoint. The bloodstains in this rear room are more distinctly visible, and here, besides a trap door, is a secret panel behind which shows up a secret closet. Very awesome 'tis. Unconscious- i, our eyes turn to the window whence we may view the beautiful shimmering river, flowing silently down to the sea. But the tough buccaneers have con quered us, and a mental picture of pi ratical craft, flying the black flag, em blent of skull and cross-bones, greets us there. The cellar is visited. Here are two more gigantic fireplaces. A darksome place, 'tis, with the trap door showing above. Very pleasing, is the outlook from tlie attic, which shows two more huge fireplaces—a forest of whispering pines, untilled acres, fruit trees, some fishing nets, smiling children playing with si. dbg—peace reigning, instead of the pirates. But the day of reckoning came for “Blackbeard. the Pirate.” Said Alexander Spotswond. Virginia's ... • dark deeds told of him. One that has in it the element of humor has to do with a sail that he took into South Carolina wa ters. BLUFFING THE GOVERNOR. Its impertinence is worthy an encore. One morning as “The Queen Ann’s Re venge," Blackbeard’s vessel, sailed into Charleston harbor, the pirates captured several outgoing vessels. It happened that they were very much in need of medicine. Blackbeard. not being troubled with scruples of conscience, bethought him that the easiest way to get. some was to take the governor into his con fidence. So he indited a letter to this dignitary telling him that if he did not at once send him a chest of medicine he would kill all the prisoners he had taken, forward their heeds to him and fire a.? tlie ships. His excellency, by return mailt so to speak, forwarded the medicine chest. Blackbeard must have had considerable personal magnetism, for he succeeded in getting on the right side not only of the governor of South Carolina, but of the governor of North Carolina, as well. The latter dignitary—the fact is record ed—took part in (lie fourteenth marriage of the famous pirate, to the extent of performing tlie ceremony. Blackbeard delighted in being pictur esque. His inky beard reached up to his eyes and down to a remarkable length. It was his way to twist it into tiny tails, some of which he would string over his eais. Sometimes lie would pul lighted matches under his holy hat; which, witli tlie demoniac expression of his eyes, made of him a fury incarnate. Pasquotank River, North Carolina, Resort of Blackbeard. knightly governor, in his proclamation of fering rewards for the killing of pi- i ales; “Whereas, by an act of assembly, made at a session of assembly, begun at the capitol in Williamsburg, the l ith day of November, in the fifth year of his maj esty's reign, entitled An act to encourage the apprehending and destroying of pi rates, it is, amongst other things, enact ed. Tha L all and cv ry pet ion or persons who from and after the fourteenth day of November, in the year of Our Lord, one thousand seven hundred and eighteen, and before the fourteenth day of Novem ber. which shall lie in. tlie year of Our I.ord one thousand seven hundred and nineteen, shall take, any pirate, or pi rates, on the sea or land, or, in ease of resistance, shall kill any s\cR jfirate, or pirates, between the degrees of 34 and 39 of northern latitude, and withon 100 leagues of the continent of Virginia, oi within the provinces of Virginia, or North Carolina, upon the conviction, or making due proof of tlie killing- of all and every such pirate, and pirates, before the gov ernor and council, shall be entitled to have and receive out of the public mon- ev in the hands of the treasurer of this colony, the several rewards following: That is to say. for Edward Teach, com monly called Captain Teach, or Black- heard, one hundred pounds; for every other commander of a pirate ship, .sloop or vessel, forty pounds; for every lieu tenant master or quartermaster, boat swain, or carpenter, twenty pounds; for every other inferior officer, fifteen pounds; and for every pirate man taken on board such ship, sloop or vessel, ten pounds; and that for evei t pile**’ which shall be taken by any ship, sloop 'or ves sel belonging to this colony, or North Carolina, -within the time aforesaid, in any place whatsoever, the like rewards shall be paid according to the quality and condition of such pirates. Wherefore. for the encouragement of all such persons as shall be willing to serve his majesty, and their country, in so just and honor able an undertaking as the suppressing, a sort of people who may be truly called enemies to mankind. I have thought lit, with the advice and consent of it is majesty’s council, to issue this proclam- aieon, hereby declaring tlie said rewards shall be punctually and justly paid, in CONTINUED ON LAST PAGE. • ~-9-.-9-.-9-~9-.-9.. i ~9—9-»9-.-9—9-> »... •... •... •... 9— 9-9 •... • .- • • ••• • -..ft... 9-.-9-.-9-.-9-~9~-9-*9—-9-~9 ... • •••! :• 9■•■9■•‘9—9-^9-‘9 9 •••■#•»• #•»■#.«• ® •••# •«• 9 9 t Story of the Dermograph Artist A. Series of Humorous Stories by Gelett Burgess and Will Irwin 9:-9-.-9-.-9-.-9 — 9-*-9-.-9-.-9-.-9-.-9:-9:-9-.- 9-~9~-9~9--9 — 9C 9-~9-.-0-.-9-.-9-~9-~9-~9-~9-~9'~9-.-9 -.-9-.-9~9~-9~9~-9-.-9~9*-9 I THE STORY OF THE DERMOGRAPH ARTIST. OT soc, this ain't my uiar job. I’m working here because my profes sion is played ou- L in Saa Francisco. I’m a dermo- grapb artist. What’s that? Oti. it’s what most people call a tattooer. But don't you think we’ve got as much right to be called artists as tlie fellows that slap paint on cloth with a w»er brush? It was the electric needle and the Jap tattooer that ran me out of business. With the electric needle a man could put on a design in about a quarter of the time that it takes to do a real artistic job by hand. The blamed little Jap would pretty near pay to get a customer, he worked that cheap. 1 quit, and 1 never get out my needles now ex cept for a design on some one in the bat its. My parlors were on the water front, because most of my customers were sailors. Of course, once in a while some swells from Nob Hill would eonte in for a design or two. 1 used to do my best work for them, because. I thought, you never can tell when these society people will get next to the fact that a picture on the skin has it a mile on a painting. Why. the other day I read in the papers that ii Frenchman got a hundred thou sand dollars for a little, dinky canvas painting. The highest pay 1 ever knew a dermograph artist to get was five hun dred for doing the Wells Bros.’ tattooed woman. Do you call that square? After the Jap and the electric needle chump came to town, business fell off. as 1 was telling you. They’d have made me close up my shop and get out if it htidn’t been for Spotty Crigg. Ever hear of him? Well, you sure haven’t been in San Francisco long. In those days he kept a sailor boarding house and saloon round the corner from my parlors, and lie was sort of boss of the water from — good any time to deliver 500 votes. I ain't saying that Spotty was a Sunday school kind of man, but he stuck to his friends. I was one of the gang, so lie sent me enough jobs to keep me going. Besides, I helped him once or twice on a shanghaiing deal. You see. like most sailor hoarding house keepers in tlio.-e days, he was a crimp—used, to deliver a sailor or two when foremast hands were scarce and the pay was good. Spotty Crigg is dead now, or I wouldn't be tell ing you about his last and biggest shang- haiiing scrape. 1 didn't understand it at the time, but 1 learned about it after- wards. part from Crigg and part front people on the other side of the little deal One of my society customers was young Tom Li tterhhiir. Maybe you don't know about him, either. He belonged to about the richest tribe of swells on Nob Hit!. That fellow was as wild as a fishhawk. a thoroughbred dead game sport. His being wild didn’t bother his people as much as the way lie went about it—al ways doing something crazy. His peo ple were strong on getting into the so ciety columns of tlie papers, Inti he was eternally getting the family name on the news page of the yellow journals, if not in the police reports. He wasn’t really what you would call bad. either; only wild and careless and brought up wrong, and stubborn about it when any one tried to call him down. He’d never seem sorry if lie got the family into trouble, but just laugh ;it his sisters win n they roasted him. And instead of trear ing him quiet and easy, and gentling him into being good, they'd jaw him. That’s a bad scheme with a gilded youth like Tom Lettorblair. They were a bunch of orphans. That was half the trouble. Finally, Tom Lettorblair took up with a chorus girl and refused to drop her. The family tried to buy her off. Now she wasn't a. nice sort of girl, but she was true to Tom. She told him about it. For once, although he was such a care less fellow, he got mad and wliaL does he do but come to me to have her name, “Dotty.” tattooed on his arm with the double snake border. Says lie to me con fidentially. “That’s the girl I'm going to marry when I come of age, which is only two months, and don’t you forget it.” Seems that lie told other people, the same, thing, so that it came back to his family. Now his sisters and the Eastern society swells that they were married to didn't hanker any to have Dotty for a sister in law. But they knew by experience that if Tom Letterblair said he'd do it. all blazes wouldn’t hold him. J. Thrasher Sunderland, one of Tom’s brothers in law, had what lie thought was a bright idea. It was to get the kid shanghaied on a sailing vessel for a six months’ voyage. That wasn't such a Sad scheme, either. They could keep him away from Dotty and drink for six months, have him work hard, and make a man out of him. It's been done before right in this port. That wild streak is a kind of disease that strikes young- fellows with too much blood in their necks and money in their pockets. J. Thrasher Sunderland made his first break when lie went to Captain W'ynch, of the bark Treasure Trove, instead of going straight to a crimp, as lie ought to.have done. Wynch promised to treat tlie kid well and try to brace him up. Never having seen Tom Tetterblair, lie got a description of hint, including the tattoo mark. Then the skipper went ><> Spotty Crigg and promised him $100 for doing the rough work of getting Torn on board tile vessel. Lettorblair was stieli a big. careless fellow, he never suspected anything, and a lure note fetched him to Crigg's saloon the night before the bark cleared. Torn had been drinking hard that day—showed up badly slewed. Twas a jolly dru.iK, and he was ready fo* a glass with any one. Now, Crigg hadn't given much thought to this little transaction, for lie was do ing that sort of work almost every day in the week. But when that young swell, all dressed up to tlie nine, came into .he Bowsprit saloon, the looks of him put a brand new idea into Spotty’s noddle, it struck him that SI00 was pretty small pay for catching a fish of that size and color; there was evidently a big deal on somewhere. Uke every one else that read the papers, he knew considerable about Tom Letterblair: knew him for a young sport, free as water with his mon ey. Putting two and two together, lie saw that if lie coy Id save the kid instead of stealing him. there might be a good many times SlOCXin the affair. Besides, there was a chance of finding out who was trying to get the shanghaiing done, and then eollceting blackmail. So he de cided to play both ends. He would steal th; wrong man, and hold on to the: right one. He ran his eye around tlie place and saw Harry Maidslow. a scene shifter in the old Baldwin theater, who used to drop in now and then, on his night of!. Man for man, Maidslow and Letterblair were modeled on the same lines—Maids low wore a mustache, hut that would come off easy enough—yellow hair, blue eyes, big and strong build. Maidslow hadn't a relative this side of the ifin k- ies; no one would miss hint. Crigg knew that. Spotty Crigg went so far in his mind before lie thought of tlie tattoo mark. Captain Wynch had mentioned it as the proof that there was no mistake. And men, Crigg thought of me. 1 suppose lots of people would have stopped there, but Spotty Crigg had nerve. I'll say that for him—nerve of a thousand. He worked Letterblair to urink him self to sleep, and then had him packed upstairs, and put to bed, dead to lie world. The next move was easy. Crigg took Harry Maidslow into his office, fed him knockout drops ajid carried him up into the same room with Letterblair. Side by side’he laid them both, and strip ped them to undershirts That the way I found them when a hurry cal! brought me to the boarding house. I thought at first they were botli dead. It gave me the horrors to hear Crigg tell me that I was to copy tiiat tatto mark. ’Twas like working on a dead man. One drunk, the other drug ged, Ijing on a little, cheap old bed and Spotty, who wasn’t tr nice, clean looking sort of person, anyway, leaning over them witli a candle. When he told what lie wanted I kicked until lie put on the screws. He could drive me off the water, front if he car: d. I knew that, and he reminded me of it, besides offering me S50. So at last I went at it, lie telling me all the time to hurry. I never worked so fast in my life. By two hours you couldn’t tell one mark from the other, except that Maidslow’s was new and Letterblair’s old. Next we shaved Maidslow’s mustache off. for Tom always wore a smooth face. Then we changed their clothes, putting the swell rig on Maidslow and the- old clothes on Letterblair. Next. Spotty Crigg took Maidslow, got him into a hack, drove him to a dory ne had in waiting, and rowed out to the Treasure Trove, which was in the stream waiting to sail the next morning. Cap tain Wynch wa_s cussing purple because Spotty had stayed so long. He went over tlie description, though, and looked at the right arm to make sure, just as Crigg expected him to do. It looked a.ll right, because a tatto mark don’t begin to swell until the day after; besides, Wynch was seeing it under a fo-castle lamp. It was all right so far. But Crigg, who wasn't so keen by a jugful as lip thought he was, hadn't, figured on one thing. Tlie Letterblairs had an aunt, Mrs. Burden, a widow, without chick or child of her own. She was an old, religious lady, with oodles of money and a whooping temper—a regular holy terror. She iid not cotton to the sisters at all; in fact, slip hated them, but she was soft over Tom Letterblair. Whenever she wasn t turning loose her money, stringing lios- pitals and churches all the way to Sac ramento, site was handing it over to lie kid. who had only an allowance until he got to be 21. He and tlie parsons were the only ones who got her to loosen iq.. She had no son. and 1 rather guess that on the quiet she had a sneaking liking for the way he was carrying on. Sort of thrilled her. You know how some of those pious old girls like a man that's real bad. She coddled him to death and fought the sisters for being hard on the bov. Spotty’s luck turned so that she picked the very next morning for a show down with the sisters over the way they were treating the kid. There must have been a regular hair pulling. Any way, before she got through. Mrs. Sunderland was so mad that she poured out tlie whole scheme in one mouthful. She said: “You won't have a chance to coddle him any more! He's on Ttie Treasutc Trove, bound for China to get the fool ishness taken out of him. He's passed the Farralones by this time.” The old lady was foxy. She would have made a pretty good sport herself. She shut up like a clam, ran home, rustl ed for the telephone and called up the wharfinger. She found that the Treas ure Trove was in the stream, being towed for tlie heads, and belonged to Burke & Coleman, this port. She knew Burk*. She got her carriage, made his office n two ji-mps. and wouldn't leave until -he had an order on Captain Wynch to de liver a sailor answering Letterblair’s de scription. tattooing and all. in a half hour more she had a tug started. chas- ing the Treasure Trove with that order. She offered the crew $200 over regular pay if they got their man back safe and sound. She herself was afraid of trie water and dViyed in the tug office t-. wait. While this was going on, Tom Letter- blair woke up. The man watching him tried to get him drunk again and the jag turned out loud and nasty. Crigg said he’d have to be doing something right off the bat. He knew a little liow the land lay be tween Toni and his people, but not enough. He was sure that some one of Tom’s relatives had done it. As far as that, iie was right. He struck the wrong lead when he picked Mrs. Burden as tlie one—she being a church member—that was most .likely to be ashamed of the kid. He looked up her number in the directors and made for the house hot-foot. Sne wasn't in, so he held up a ianip post, waiting. Tlie tug got back. They packed Harry Maidslow into the dock house. He was still sound asleep from the knockout drops. “My precious boy!” said the old lady, and fill on his neck. Then she screamed so you could hear her all over the water front and began tfi ju<hp on the captain. She said: “You’re a pack of thieves! You’ve murdered my Tom and dressed another man in iiis clothes. Where is my boy? Give me back my boy! she said, and a lot of other things. Said the tugboat captain: “You're trying to get out of paying the two hundred. He's on specifications, and a nice time we had making them pass him over. Look here.” He got tlie coat off Harry Maid- slow? There was the tattoo mark, just beginning to swell up. “It’s a new mark. You and those hus sies have fooled me,” said the old lady. “I'll have you all in jail for this,” she said. “I wish I could find him. I’d show them up. I’d take him right up to the big dance they’re going to have tonight. I'd shame them!'' she said. And she drove home, laughing and crying out loud. At the doorstep Spotty Crigg braced her. Ho began quiet and easy, working up her curiosity so that she would lot him know how tlie land lay. That’s just where he went wrong again. In about a minute she put two and two together and saw pretty clearly through the whole scheme. She was just one point smarter than Spotty, and she wormed it out of him finally. He thought she wanted Tom put out of the way. sure. She played her hand by letting him think so. It was move and your turn, like a game of checkers, with the old lady one jump ahead. Said Spotty: “Two thousand dollars, or I bring him back and give the- story of The Observer.” Which, of course, was exactly what she CONTINUED ON IAST PAGE.