It was June 21st, 1720 and the sun was just rising over Trepassey, Newfoundland. The fishermen listened to the songbirds and gentle surf on the rocks as they readied their boats. Everything indicated a beautiful day ahead.

Then the birds stopped singing.

In the distance, there was a rumble of canon fire. On the breeze came the sound of trumpets and drums. Under an ominous black flag emblazoned with a skull and cutlass The sloop Fortune swept into the harbour.

Black Bart, the dreaded pirate, had come to town.

Who Was Black Bart?

Black Bart wasn’t just a pirate, he may have been THE pirate.

He was born as John Roberts in Wales in 1682. He went to sea as a young man and became a skilled navigator. In 1719, he was second mate on a slave ship anchored off Ghana. The ship was captured by pirates. Legend has it that Roberts was reluctantly ‘forced’ into piracy but, however hesitant his initiation, he was soon won over to the lifestyle and quickly gained power.

It was somewhere around this time he assumed the name Bartholomew. Nobody really knows why. It may have been that he thought an alias would be useful in a life of piracy.

Regardless of the origin of his name, he soon set about making sure it would live in infamy. The charismatic Roberts reigned in terror on both sides of the Atlantic Ocean. From west Africa to the Caribbean and up the North American coast, Roberts captured more ships than anyone else (400 or more), murdered governors, and brought trade in the West Indies to a standstill.

And did it all with style.

Roberts favourite battle outfit consisted of a crimson damask waistcoat and breeches, a red feather in his hat, a gold chain with diamond cross around his neck. He carried a sword in his hand, and two pairs of pistols hanging at the end of a silk sling over his shoulders.

Like many pirates, Bartholomew Robert’s career was short. He was killed by the Royal Navy near Africa in 1722 — 3 years after becoming a pirate. His cruel exploits during those years have kept his name alive for 300 years and earned him the posthumous nickname “Black Bart.”

Black Bart’s Newfoundland Story

In the spring of 1720 Bartholomew Roberts had been making his way north from the Caribbean. He hoped to avoid the hurricane season and was well aware that poorly-defended Newfoundland coastline offered a unique opportunity to enrich his fleet.

As the story goes, Roberts first port of call in Newfoundland was Ferryland. During a brief stop over, perhaps just to let Newfoundland know who they were dealing with, he set fire to the largest ship in the harbour.

From Ferryland he went to Trepassey.

300 years ago, Trepassey was an important port in the Newfoundland migratory cod fishery and, compared to a lot of other stations on the coast, it was well-provisioned. It was also relatively close to the trade routes used by wealthy North American/European merchants. It was an appealing destination for a pirate and Roberts found it to his liking.

On June 21, 1720, Bartholomew Roberts’ ship descended on Trepassey with black flag flying and canons firing. Music from the on board ‘orchestra’ hailed his arrival. It was an auspicious start to what would become, a 2-week occupation.

With little resistance in the port, Roberts was able to loot and pillage at leisure. He sank some vessels and burned others. He sent the unarmed crews to shore. According to some reports, when all was said and done, Roberts had destroyed as many as 26 vessels.

Without doubt, Roberts biggest coup in Trepassey was finding himself a new ship. A large merchant galley was in port and he quickly decided it was better than his own boat the Fortune. He seized it, had the best of his armament moved aboard and christened it with a name befitting it’s higher status — the Royal Fortune.

When the time came to leave, he sent his men ashore for one last raid. The people of Trepassey fled and the pirates landed unopposed. They ransacked the fishing station, taking anything of value and setting fire to the stages. With Trepassey in flames, the Royal Fortune swept out to sea, attacking vessels and, occasionally, convincing a local sailor to join his crew (including the famed John Walden/Miss Nanny).

That’s the most popular tale of Black Bart’s time in Newfoundland but it’s not the only story that’s been told.

For instance, for all that he supposedly stole, Roberts may have left something behind.

Something Left Behind

According to a not-incredibly-well-sourced article by Alex A. Parsons in the Newfoundland Quarterly (1922), Roberts had a romance while in Trepassey.

He fell in love with the daughter of a planter and fathered a child. Supposedly, the child stayed with its mother in Newfoundland, grew up and passed the Roberts DNA on to generations of islanders.

It’s quite a claim.

Is Any Of It True?

Well, I’m not remotely convinced he had a child.

But yes, it’s well-documented that 300 years ago Roberts wound up in Trepassey and spent a period of time there. He obtained a new ship and it seems likely he destroyed some vessels.

There isn’t a lot of evidence to back-up the claims of mass destruction and burning. In a Newfoundland Quarterly (2015), Olaf U. Janzen points out that official reports made about the fishing business in 1720 failed to mention any losses due to Roberts. That doesn’t mean there weren’t any but, if he really did destroy 20-plus vessels and burned a community’s fishing infrastructure, it seems odd it wasn't worth a mention.

But who knows?

That’s The Problem with Pirates

With pirates, it’s hard to know where the fact ends and the fiction begins. Swords and pistols weren’t a pirate’s only weapons — a fearsome reputation served them well. They encouraged legends of terrible exploits because, if their prey was afraid, it made their work that much easier.

Murder, marauding and mis-information — it’s the pirate way.