Ahoy again, mateys. If ye thought Black Bart’s velvet‑and‑diamonds swagger was the worst of him, let me show ye the shadow behind the shine.

In October of 1720, Roberts proved he wasn’t just a scourge — he was a cold, calculating devil who believed cruelty was a tool, not a temper.

He took a Dutch crew that month, and instead of sending them off with a warning like most pirates would, Roberts ordered something far darker.

Gnarly Alert: What follows is a wee bit gross and nasty. If’n ye don’t need that kind of detail, skip dthe next paragraph.

His men cut off the ears of several captives. Others were hanged without ceremony. And when the bodies swung silent, Roberts let his crew use them for target practice — a grisly sport played under the calm eye of a man who treated violence like bookkeeping.

No rum‑mad frenzy. No wild shouting. Just quiet, disciplined brutality.

Aye, mateys… Black Bart didn’t lose his temper. He administered it.

Ports whispered of this deed for months. Captains swore the sea itself seemed to recoil from him. And every sailor who heard the tale learned the same hard truth: Roberts wasn’t feared because he was cruel — he was feared because he was methodical.

He plundered with velvet on his shoulders and death at his fingertips. A gentleman’s coat… and a monster’s heart.

Well, ye probably need a grog or two after that! I do! Next time, another scourge: Ned Low.

Til next time, Fair Winds!

To the ghosts that guide us, the storms that test us, and the gold that waits for those who dare — may our ink never run dry and our courage never fade. Raise your tankards, mates… for the sea still remembers our names.