A pirate's life for me! But why?
A couple of weeks ago, my five-year-old niece asked me, "Why do you like pirates so much?" At the time, I couldn't really think of a good answer, so I've been pondering it ever since . . .
I mean, how do you explain to a five-year-old why you're fascinated with people who are, essentially, thieves and even often heartless murderers? Besides which, as Samuel Johnson famously said, "no man will be a sailor who has contrivance enough to get himself into a jail; for being in a ship is being in jail with the chance of being drowned."
I suppose it all started back when I was 12 years old, when I saw Robert Newton's quintessential portrayal of Long John Silver in 1950's Treasure Island. I was totally captivated--by Robert Newton, the character, the settings, as well as the story. Shortly afterward, I read the book (and then started my research into real-life piracy that continues today). Even as a girl, I could imagine myself as Jim Hawkins (who narrates the book) embarking on this exciting adventure and being simultaneously frightened and charmed by the beguiling villain. For me, Robert Newton's Long John Silver was the very definition of a pirate, and I was intrigued by all the accoutrements that went with that. I loved the 18th-century clothes, the buildings, the ships. And, a pacifist at heart, I nevertheless found myself intrigued even by the weapons--their primitiveness requiring that much more skill from the wielder. The sleek, decorative designs of many of the old firearms, daggers, and sword handles are almost works of art, valuable belongings people cared for meticulously and wore openly as part of their everyday wardrobe back in the days before organized law enforcement made them obsolete for the average citizen. I'm also a sucker for a rolicking swordfight between two skilled fencers (like Errol Flynn and Basil Rathbone!)--as long as no one really gets hurt.
But that's part of it too--my interest in pirates is limited strictly to those of the 17th and 18th centuries (especially British ones), a time period that is far enough removed from our own to be romanticized. Yet in that simpler time, for the average person, life was short and frought with hardships. In those days, if he survived childhood, the average healthy peasant worked himself to death by the time he was in his 30s. People could be hanged for the most minor offenses, and attending executions was their idea of entertainment. Torture was common and openly practiced in the name of the law. In the Navy and on merchant vessels, common seamen were treated harshly, often having been kidnapped for the job by press gangs, subject to flogging and forced to eat rotting, maggot-infested food, and Samuel Johnson's statement about their work environment was fairly accurate.
By comparison, many historical studies have concluded that the pirates of that period were relatively humane. Most had experienced the harsh life of a common sailor and, in forming pirate companies, they sought to rectify the wrongs done to them. Captains were elected democratically and could be deposed at any time by a vote of the crew. In fact, most everything the crew did was decided by vote. Their society was probably the first-ever practical democracy in history. While life was freer aboard a pirate ship than any other kind of vessel and in the general society as well, rules were drawn up at the beginning of each voyage to which the whole crew agreed to be bound; they usually even included a kind of "workers' compensation" clause whereby injuries were compensated from the ship's treasury. There was no class system aboard the pirate ship, multiple nationalities and races lived side by side, and the captain ate the same food and his vote counted the same as everyone else's.
Not only that, but pirates much preferred to intimidate their prey than to fight them, hence the invention of the jolly roger at the turn of the 18th century as a kind of warning--simultaneously offering mercy if their prey surrendered without a fight. (Most merchant-ship crews had no vested interest in their cargo and little loyalty to their harsh employers, so they often did so gladly; in fact, it was common for them to be invited to join the pirates.)
Some pirates were indeed cruel, especially in the 17th century (Sir Henry Morgan was accused of the most horrid atrocities by his biographer, a member of his own crew, while Francois L'Ollonois, a.k.a. Jean-David Nau, devised some truly barbaric tortures and was summed up by author David Mitchell as a "riproaring psychopath"). However, while he took almost two dozen prizes in his two-year career as captain, there is no evidence at all to show that the most notorious and colorful pirate of them all, Blackbeard, ever engaged in battle until he was hunted down by the Navy. (He bravely fought to the death, fending off multiple attackers even after receiving 5 gunshot wounds and 20 deep stab wounds.) In fact, there is evidence that he often showed mercy to his prisoners at risk to himself. His primary weapons were his terrifying appearance and his reputation.
Another pirate, Edward England, was deposed by his crew for showing what they considered to be excessive mercy to a prisoner. And my favorite real-life buccaneer, William Dampier, while a terrible leader, was fascinated by nature and foreign cultures and kept meticulous journals of everything he encountered on his lengthy circumnavigations, along with charts of winds and currents, which he published to much acclaim (but little financial gain) on his return to England. His books were praised and used as references by the likes of Captain Cook, Admiral Nelson, and Charles Darwin, and he is credited with introducing over 1000 words into the English language. (He was also aboard the vessel from which Alexander Selkirk, the real-life sailor upon whom Daniel Defoe based Robinson Crusoe, was marooned and was instrumental in his rescue four years later.)
Pirates of that time period also provided goods to the American colonists that were overpriced or even forbidden to be imported to them by the oppressive government restrictions on trade (the "Navigation Acts") that led directly to the American Revolution.
And then, even though in that time a wooden ship really could be a kind of floating prison--with the danger of storms and dead calms and shipwrecks and fires and starvation and deadly falls from the rigging ever-present--I've always been drawn to the sea, finding the old sailing ships objects of great beauty. I often daydream about what it would be like to live aboard one on the open ocean.
So how do I explain all that to a five-year-old who's into fairy princesses and My Little Pony? (Suggestions welcome! Though I might well ask her why she always asks to play with my Fisher-Price pirate ship whenever she comes to visit!) I mean, it's not really piracy per se that attracts me--seagoing robbers have been around as long as there has been trade at sea, and they're still around today--it's only the pirates of the so-called "Golden Age" that captivate me, with their tall wooden ships and their colorful nautical talk, their rebel democracies and baroque mix-and-match fashions (even the types of clothes you could wear were regulated by the government, and the pirates enjoyed flouting these "sumptuary laws"!), along with their skill, sheer bravery, and adventurous spirits. "A merry life and a short one," summed up their attitude, which sounds like a good one to me.
But I guess it really all comes down to Robert Newton in Treasure Island; I might never have become interested in pirates if not for his groundbreaking interpretation of Long John Silver. (For one thing, it was he who added that ubiquitous "arrr" to our perception of pirate jargon! Not to mention the growl and the Cornish accent and the trademark eyeroll.)
So happy birthday, Robert Newton! (Sadly he died at the age of 50, but he'd have been 102 today!)
I mean, how do you explain to a five-year-old why you're fascinated with people who are, essentially, thieves and even often heartless murderers? Besides which, as Samuel Johnson famously said, "no man will be a sailor who has contrivance enough to get himself into a jail; for being in a ship is being in jail with the chance of being drowned."
I suppose it all started back when I was 12 years old, when I saw Robert Newton's quintessential portrayal of Long John Silver in 1950's Treasure Island. I was totally captivated--by Robert Newton, the character, the settings, as well as the story. Shortly afterward, I read the book (and then started my research into real-life piracy that continues today). Even as a girl, I could imagine myself as Jim Hawkins (who narrates the book) embarking on this exciting adventure and being simultaneously frightened and charmed by the beguiling villain. For me, Robert Newton's Long John Silver was the very definition of a pirate, and I was intrigued by all the accoutrements that went with that. I loved the 18th-century clothes, the buildings, the ships. And, a pacifist at heart, I nevertheless found myself intrigued even by the weapons--their primitiveness requiring that much more skill from the wielder. The sleek, decorative designs of many of the old firearms, daggers, and sword handles are almost works of art, valuable belongings people cared for meticulously and wore openly as part of their everyday wardrobe back in the days before organized law enforcement made them obsolete for the average citizen. I'm also a sucker for a rolicking swordfight between two skilled fencers (like Errol Flynn and Basil Rathbone!)--as long as no one really gets hurt.
But that's part of it too--my interest in pirates is limited strictly to those of the 17th and 18th centuries (especially British ones), a time period that is far enough removed from our own to be romanticized. Yet in that simpler time, for the average person, life was short and frought with hardships. In those days, if he survived childhood, the average healthy peasant worked himself to death by the time he was in his 30s. People could be hanged for the most minor offenses, and attending executions was their idea of entertainment. Torture was common and openly practiced in the name of the law. In the Navy and on merchant vessels, common seamen were treated harshly, often having been kidnapped for the job by press gangs, subject to flogging and forced to eat rotting, maggot-infested food, and Samuel Johnson's statement about their work environment was fairly accurate.
By comparison, many historical studies have concluded that the pirates of that period were relatively humane. Most had experienced the harsh life of a common sailor and, in forming pirate companies, they sought to rectify the wrongs done to them. Captains were elected democratically and could be deposed at any time by a vote of the crew. In fact, most everything the crew did was decided by vote. Their society was probably the first-ever practical democracy in history. While life was freer aboard a pirate ship than any other kind of vessel and in the general society as well, rules were drawn up at the beginning of each voyage to which the whole crew agreed to be bound; they usually even included a kind of "workers' compensation" clause whereby injuries were compensated from the ship's treasury. There was no class system aboard the pirate ship, multiple nationalities and races lived side by side, and the captain ate the same food and his vote counted the same as everyone else's.
Not only that, but pirates much preferred to intimidate their prey than to fight them, hence the invention of the jolly roger at the turn of the 18th century as a kind of warning--simultaneously offering mercy if their prey surrendered without a fight. (Most merchant-ship crews had no vested interest in their cargo and little loyalty to their harsh employers, so they often did so gladly; in fact, it was common for them to be invited to join the pirates.)
Some pirates were indeed cruel, especially in the 17th century (Sir Henry Morgan was accused of the most horrid atrocities by his biographer, a member of his own crew, while Francois L'Ollonois, a.k.a. Jean-David Nau, devised some truly barbaric tortures and was summed up by author David Mitchell as a "riproaring psychopath"). However, while he took almost two dozen prizes in his two-year career as captain, there is no evidence at all to show that the most notorious and colorful pirate of them all, Blackbeard, ever engaged in battle until he was hunted down by the Navy. (He bravely fought to the death, fending off multiple attackers even after receiving 5 gunshot wounds and 20 deep stab wounds.) In fact, there is evidence that he often showed mercy to his prisoners at risk to himself. His primary weapons were his terrifying appearance and his reputation.
Another pirate, Edward England, was deposed by his crew for showing what they considered to be excessive mercy to a prisoner. And my favorite real-life buccaneer, William Dampier, while a terrible leader, was fascinated by nature and foreign cultures and kept meticulous journals of everything he encountered on his lengthy circumnavigations, along with charts of winds and currents, which he published to much acclaim (but little financial gain) on his return to England. His books were praised and used as references by the likes of Captain Cook, Admiral Nelson, and Charles Darwin, and he is credited with introducing over 1000 words into the English language. (He was also aboard the vessel from which Alexander Selkirk, the real-life sailor upon whom Daniel Defoe based Robinson Crusoe, was marooned and was instrumental in his rescue four years later.)
Pirates of that time period also provided goods to the American colonists that were overpriced or even forbidden to be imported to them by the oppressive government restrictions on trade (the "Navigation Acts") that led directly to the American Revolution.
And then, even though in that time a wooden ship really could be a kind of floating prison--with the danger of storms and dead calms and shipwrecks and fires and starvation and deadly falls from the rigging ever-present--I've always been drawn to the sea, finding the old sailing ships objects of great beauty. I often daydream about what it would be like to live aboard one on the open ocean.
So how do I explain all that to a five-year-old who's into fairy princesses and My Little Pony? (Suggestions welcome! Though I might well ask her why she always asks to play with my Fisher-Price pirate ship whenever she comes to visit!) I mean, it's not really piracy per se that attracts me--seagoing robbers have been around as long as there has been trade at sea, and they're still around today--it's only the pirates of the so-called "Golden Age" that captivate me, with their tall wooden ships and their colorful nautical talk, their rebel democracies and baroque mix-and-match fashions (even the types of clothes you could wear were regulated by the government, and the pirates enjoyed flouting these "sumptuary laws"!), along with their skill, sheer bravery, and adventurous spirits. "A merry life and a short one," summed up their attitude, which sounds like a good one to me.
But I guess it really all comes down to Robert Newton in Treasure Island; I might never have become interested in pirates if not for his groundbreaking interpretation of Long John Silver. (For one thing, it was he who added that ubiquitous "arrr" to our perception of pirate jargon! Not to mention the growl and the Cornish accent and the trademark eyeroll.)
So happy birthday, Robert Newton! (Sadly he died at the age of 50, but he'd have been 102 today!)