Black Bart's
Personal Pirate Pictures

Here ye be finding pictures of old Black Bart, his exploits and miscellaneous pictures
of his fellow Brethren of the Coast! What ye be waitin' fer, scroll down to read about me adventures and to see more pictures of me fellow pirates - Savvy?

Enjoy Scallywags!

Black Bart
sacks the port city of Bristol,
and lives to Tell the Tale!

Arrgghhh! This bein' me account of a recent adventure to the port city of Bristol. Feelin' a bit restless at sea and tired of eating slop, I headed for the nearest city port for some fine victuals and mayhap a bit of thievery. The closest port of call was that of the town of Bristol. I landed there, left me ship The Bewildered Barnacle in the harbor and made me way into the town proper. I only had 1 piece of eight, 1 French Ecu and 5 shillings in me old purse. Not enough for a proper meal, so I searched the town for any unsuspectin' gentlemen who might be “persuaded “ to hand over his monies to an old sea dog.

I waited outside of a trade good store waitin' fer me victim, uh, I mean gentleman. I guess it was a slow day at the old shop, fer no one seemed to be comin’ or goin’. So, to whittle the time away, I played me bones for some musical releavement of me boredom and to cover up the grumblins from me gut. About half past the noon day hour, to me amazement, a rich gentleman passed me on the street and before I could cut his purse, Blow me down!, this knot-brained landlubber dropped his money purse to the ground. What an Jackanapes! So, being the kind soul that I am, and a freebooter, I reached down, grabbed the purse and kept it fer meself. Thank ye kindly, good sir…HA! Now I had enough monies fer a proper meal, so I headed to the town tavern for some good victuals to partake of.

I first stopped outside the tavern to mock at their sign (ah …nice noose...HA, I don’t plan on dancin' the hempen jig any time soon). I then made me way inside this fine establishment. I sat down and waited fer a while before the bar wench could take me order. All this waitin' put me in a foul mood. Then, to top it off, this saucy wench informs me that they be out of me favorite food, meat pasties! So, I counted 10 ticks of the clock, then I told her to get me what the govner eats when he stops in fer a bite. I thought to meself, that should be some right fine grub.

Lo and behold, when the food finally arrives, blast it all, it be soup and peanut soup to boot! I should've known. Polite society. The soup was presented with a roll ( or should I call it hardtack?) and some apple cider. Gentleman and their refined ways…HA! Them victuals was not throatsome at all.

The soup bein' salty and not likin cider, I went to search fer some real drink, aye….RUM! Least to say, I kept me monies with me and made me way down to the cellar. Then I beholded a sight greater than old Morgan’s treasure, barrels and barrels of rum! I dove right in to get me share. After but a short time, I spied a figure out the cellar window starin' at me. It were the bilge suckin' tavern owner! He shouted fer the militia and bein' a bit “in me cups”, I were captured too easy and put in the stocks.

After two days in the stocks, I were released. Now I be worse off than when I came to this blasted town, fer the tavern owner took all me monies. And they call me a pirate! All I had on me person now was the clothes on me back and me pet rats, which I guess the tavern owner did not want…HA! I’ve had me pet rats fer as long as I can remember. They be me family. I like to converse with them. Their names be Hornswaggle, Scurvy and Bob. Well, Hornswaggle, bein' the smartest of the bunch, told me we should be gettin' some loot and headin' fast out of town. Sounded good to me, mates. So, with the help of me fellow rats, we found a great house to rob just on the edge of town.

I broke through a window in the back of said house and made me way up the staircase to a fine, fancy room. This here family must be very well off indeed, so I’m sure they would not miss these fine gold candelabras and grand bone china bowl, just right fer the takin'. I looked at me handsome self in the mirrored glass. I could see meself bein' surrounded by such lovely things (which I guess I did by lookin' in the glass…HA). So, I took these said items and made a run for it.

As soon as I made me escape from the house, Shiver me timbers!...the militia were waitin' fer me! I saw at the front of the line, that blasted, no good, scallywag of a tavern owner. Looks like he followed me, along with his militia mates, that dabberlack son of a sea witch! I made a run fer the forest, but the militia fired upon me and I were taken.

Then this chowder head of a tavern keeper set out to tar and feather me! They had it all ready, the bucket of tar and a bag of feathers, but the sheriff came and belayed the order before they could do thar filthy deed to me. The sheriff told the tavern keeper and militia that they wanted to save me fer the hangman’s noose. So, they put me back in the stocks. They kept me there for two more long hot days before I be taken to the courthouse fer trial on charges of thievery and piracy.

A pair of militiamen and the fool of a sheriff dragged me to the courthouse. In front of the courthouse, I pulled meself upright, stuck out me chest to show them knaves that I be not afraid of the law and their judgment. They laughed and hurried me inside. There I received me supposed fate from this gossoon of a judge. They sentenced old Black Bart to death, just fer some carousin' and takin' of a fine bone china bowl. Government..HA! I were to be hanged outside of the local goal in a fortnight.

They threw a heavy chain around me neck and chained me to the inside of a dark cell in the goal. I had only a fortnight to plan me escape before they put out old Black Bart’s eyes. The jailor seemed to me to be a forgetful and timid sort of gowk. This could be used to me advantage I reckon! Me days was spent exercisin' in the yard and sittin' in my cell whilst countin' the days til my escape. Blimey! Time were runnin' out fer me. Only two days be left before me hangin' day! Then, by the grace of old Davy Jones himself, a terrible blusterous blunk hit the town. The storm so frightened the jailor that he fled the goal to save his worthless hide. Well, in all the confusion, the clodhopper jailor left the door wide open! I knew the knave was a dullard. The blunk was soon over as quickly as it came on. The sun shone bright again and I now had a way out of this dank goal.

I crept up to the open door, back against the wall. I turned me noggin to peek out the door. As far as me eyes could see, the coast was clear. So, I made a run fer it. I ran as fast as the winds could heave me. I flew down the stairs and headed for the shady lane and to freedom! I raced down the lane like a prize winnin' daisy kicker, mindful of keepin' out of sight of the militia, whence I came to the house of, let us say, a female acquaintance named Mary McKracken. I reckon she be able to help this old pirate escape this blasted city port unseen. I knocked on the door but no answer. So, frustrated and not bein' able to yell, I used me noggin to pound on the door. Nothin'…except now me head hurt bad and I were bone weary. I'm guessin' the strumpet were out fer the day engagin' in a bit of entertainin’. Wenches…HA!

I laid on the stairs and caught me breath. Looks like I had to escape on me own. I heaved-ho and made me way stealthily back to the harbor and to me ship, The Bewildered Barnacle. The town were deathly quiet except fer the milita who were chasin' an escaped pirate...HA! I easily clambered aboard and set sail. By Thunder, I were glad to be leaving that accursed town. With a smile on me face, I thanked the powers that be fer me blessed life. Now, show me that horizon, fer it be time old Black Bart scours the seas fer yet another adventure to plunder...

Yo- Ho, Yo-Ho A pirate’s life fer me! Arrgghhh!












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