Teach cut his cable and tried to stand out to sea, but ran aground. Maynard anchored within half gunshot and set to work to lighten his sloops, while Teach roared out curses and threats, to which Maynard replied that he expected no quarter and would give none. Just as Maynard was ready to attack, Teach got afloat and bore down on the sloops, giving them a broadside that partially disabled one sloop, and killed or wounded twenty men in Maynard’s. Nothing discouraged, Maynard kept his men under cover and ran the pirate aboard, and was at once attacked by Teach with fourteen men. Teach and Maynard met hand to hand, and there was a desperate encounter, Teach fighting like a ferocious animal at bay. Maynard’s sword broke, but he was saved by one of his men coming to his assistance, and Teach at last fell dead on the deck of the sloop with twenty-five wounds. The second sloop, meanwhile, had boarded and captured the pirate ship, and Maynard sailed back to the James river with Teach’s head at his bowsprit. Fifteen of the pirates were taken alive, of whom thirteen were hung.
A year after Teach’s death there appeared on the American coast Bartholomew Roberts, a Welshman from Haverfordwest, who, for over two years, was the scourge of the American and African traders. It was said of him that he was a sober man who drank tea constantly, which made him an object of suspicion to his crew. His temperance did not prevent him from being the most wantonly wicked pirate who sailed the seas. In a Newfoundland harbour, on one occasion, he burned and sank twenty-one vessels, destroyed the fisheries and stages, and wrought all the havoc he could, out of pure wantonness. On another occasion, he captured a slaver with eighty slaves on board, and burned it, slaves and all, because it would cost too much time and trouble to unshackle the unfortunate wretches. At the same time, he was a man of order and method. He drew up a set of rules, to which his crew subscribed, in which, among other things, it was laid down that no women should be allowed on board; dice and gambling were prohibited; lights were put out at 8 o’clock; and musicians were exempt from playing on Sundays. The chaplain of Cape Coast Castle having been captured, he was pressed to join the pirates, being promised that nothing would be required of him except to make punch and say prayers. On his declining the office, all church property was restored to him “except three prayer books and a bottle-screw.”