Tag Archives: history

Getting rid of a pirate captain in the Golden Age of Piracy

The pirate crew thinks their captain has screwed up. So how do they get rid of him?

The "Pirates of the Caribbean" movies departed even further from the truth by making the black spot a supernatural thing

The “Pirates of the Caribbean” movies departed even further from the truth by making the black spot a supernatural thing

Well, if you read Robert Louis Stevenson’s Treasure Island, they slip him the black spot, a piece of paper marked black on one side, and the crew’s decision on the other. Late in the novel, the pirates want to depose Long John Silver as captain, but they’re a little short of paper. So they cut out a round spot from the last page of a Bible one of the pirates carries!

It’s a great story, but there’s no truth to it. Stevenson probably made it up himself.

Which raises the question of just how did a pirate crew in the Golden Age of Piracy deal with an unsatisfactory captain. Oh, Stevenson has the right of it in one respect. There really was a commonly understood procedure to deal with complaints about the captain. Which is not to say it was always followed.

Vane in a period engraving, probably by an artist who never saw the man

Vane in a period engraving, probably by an artist who never saw the man

Let’s follow one instance where it was done right. Charles Vane was one of the red hots among the pirates who wouldn’t accept the King’s Pardon in August, 1718. He recruited a crew of other red hots who didn’t want to give up piracy, gathered them in his ship, the Ranger, and sailed out of New Providence harbor. Oh, and he used a fireship to try to burn up the Royal Navy ships in the harbor as he left. He failed, but what brass! Clearly Vane was a daring pirate captain.

Vane knew that the best way to keep his crew happy was to take as many prizes as possible. That way they’d have enough food and drink. And if they got lucky, they might capture a ship with a lot of gold and silver on board. They did well enough for a while. But then Vane lost a prize when the pirates crewing it went off on their own, and spent a month heading south without taking a single ship. The crew grumbled.

Someone really ought to do a movie about Roberts' last fight

Someone really ought to do a movie about Roberts’ last fight

On November 23, Vane saw a ship, pursued it, and ran up the pirate colors. Instead of surrendering, the other vessel raised the French colors and let loose a broadside. It was a French Navy ship! Vane decided the best course was to get away, as fast as he possibly could. It was probably the right decision. It was suicidal for pirates to engage a navy ship most of the time. The navy’s professionalism and strict discipline usually gave them an edge, even against pirate ships mounting more guns. This was so well understood that when “Black Bart” Roberts, one of the most successful pirates of that era, found himself trapped and forced to fight a Royal Navy ship, he tried his best to run past it in a storm. And even then, he thought it so likely he’d be defeated that he gave orders to try to run the ship aground to let the crew escape should they not evade the warship.

The Navy ship Vane confronted actually outgunned his ship. So Vane was very wise to turn heels and run rather than engage the ship. But for some reason the crew didn’t see it that way. Maybe they’d seized so little loot they were desperate. Maybe they were drunk and foolhardy. But they wanted to fight that Navy ship, and they loudly told Vane as much. However, it was a rule that in times of combat or chase, a pirate captain’s authority was absolute. Vane invoked that rule, and the pirates had no choice but to comply, then.

A pirate captain’s authority counted for nothing once the ship was not in a combat situation. Instead, the quartermaster became the most powerful officer. Originally the officer responsible for keeping track of supplies and sharing out the loot, the quartermaster had become a sort of crew’s tribune, responsible for presenting the crew’s concerns to the captain. On board the Ranger, the quartermaster was “Calico Jack” Rackam. Rackam called the crew and captain together the very next day, explained that the crew was dissatisfied with Vane’s performance, and called for a vote to label Vane a coward and depose him. The majority so voted, and Vane was deposed. And that was that.

Well, except for the question of who would be the next captain. The most obvious choice was the other major officer, the quartermaster. And that’s how Calico Jack Rackam became captain of the Ranger.

And there was the little problem of what to do with Vane. Pirates might often be drunk and illiterate, but they weren’t incredibly stupid. They realized that a man might not enjoy losing his position as captain, and might intrigue with his loyal followers to retake command. So the usual procedure was to get rid of the captain somehow. In Vane’s case, they had a prize, a small sloop, accompanying the Ranger. They gave the sloop to Vane and the handful of crewmen who were loyal to him, and the two pirate ships went their separate ways.

Weird fact: One of the "forced" men who overthrew Phillips was President Millard Fillmore's great-grandfather!

Weird fact: One of the “forced” men who overthrew Phillips was President Millard Fillmore’s great-grandfather!

That was the right way to do things. Even so, Vane was relatively lucky. Sometimes ex-captains were put off in a small boat, as Henry Every did to the legitimate captain of the vessel he seized to turn pirate back in 1694. Or he might be marooned on a small island, as Edward England was after he was deposed for being too kind to a merchant captain in 1720. Or, worse yet, he could be killed, as John Phillips was in 1724. Although perhaps the last example is unfair: Phillips was killed when the “forced” men (men who had been forced to join the pirates from legitimate ships) rose up and took over the vessel to end their piratical career. Hardly a voting situation!

Vane’s fate points to another way pirates broke with their captain, or sometimes vice versa. Pirates would sometimes keep ships they had taken, and split their numbers across two or more ships. Usually each ship would have its own captain, but the senior captain would have authority over all of them. Black Bart Roberts styled himself as “Admiral” and had as many as four ships under his command at one time. In practice, this was a recipe for dissension. It was natural for the overall commander to favor his own ship, and the captains of the other ships were often tempted to sneak away during the night or during a storm to strike out on their own. It happened at least twice to Roberts. Indeed, it was after Walter Kennedy made off with a ship in 1719 that Roberts drew up his articles which expressly forbade desertion.

There were many variations of the Jolly Roger; here is Walter Kennedy's

There were many variations of the Jolly Roger; here is Walter Kennedy’s

At least once, the trick was turned the other way. Blackbeard commanded a fleet of four ships in 1718, and they had accumulated a nice amount of loot. Blackbeard decided to cut most of his pirates out of their share. So he ran his two largest ships aground as if by accident. He sent off one of the other captains, Stede Bonnet, on pretext of securing a pardon, transferred all the loot into the smaller of his two remaining vessels, stripped the other one of its ship stores, and then sailed off with his favorite crew, leaving over 200 pirates stranded behind. So much for pirate honor!

They left Kidd's body to hang as a warning to sailors not to turn pirate

They left Kidd’s body to hang as a warning to sailors not to turn pirate

Then of course there were the other ways to end a captain’s rule. He could drown in a shipwreck, as Samuel Bellamy did off Cape Cod in 1717. Or he could die in combat when his ship was attacked, as happened to Blackbeard in 1718 or Roberts in 1722. Or he could be hanged after he has been captured and brought to trial, as happened with Captain Kidd in 1700, and both Vane and Rackam in 1720.

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Pirates, states, and international law

WorldMapLongLat-eq-circles-tropics-nonToday, if you look at a map of the world, its land mass is likely to be divided up into about 200 nations, each marked in a distinctive color, which collectively take up the entire land surface of the earth.[i] The idea that the world should be divided up into nations, each of which occupies its exclusive territory, seems so natural that it’s hard to realize that in its fullest form this idea is only about a century and a half old.

For European rulers at the dawn of the modern era, sovereignty wasn’t primarily about uniform control of territory under one set of laws, nor about a nation of people. It was about rights held by the rulers over people, communities, institutions, and lands, rights which were not necessarily territorial in nature. For example, the rulers of a city might have the right to use the water from a spring that was several miles away on land ruled by someone else. Or a king might be able to regulate market days in his kingdom, except for certain cities which had purchased the right to regulate their own market days from the king’s predecessors. Or some individual might be ruler of several lands, and yet he might have different rights in each land, each land might have different laws, and their union under that individual might not survive his death. England and Scotland were ruled by the same people from 1603 onward, but they didn’t have a common government until 1707, and still have some different laws. That combination has endured for a long time, while the union of Sweden and Poland under the same king didn’t even last seven years (1592-99).

The Austro-Hungarian Empire was another example of two states under one monarch. Note how it consisted of many peoples, several of which have their own nations today.

The Austro-Hungarian Empire was another example of two states under one monarch. Note how it consisted of many peoples, several of which have their own nations today.

“But what does this have to do with piracy?” you ask. Well, the rise of piracy in the Caribbean between 1630 and 1730 has to do with how European rulers tried to extend their sovereignty over the New World.

It helped the Spanish that Pope Alexander VI (r. 1492-1503) was himself Spanish

It helped the Spanish that Pope Alexander VI (r. 1492-1503) was himself Spanish

Christopher Columbus’s “discovery” of the New World in 1492 led the Pope in 1493 to give the Spanish monarchs the right to conquer the heathen lands of the New World and bring Christianity to the natives there.[ii] This set up two important principles for staking a claim to lands in the New World: discover it, and get the Pope to ratify your claim.

Alas for the Spanish, the Protestant Reformation turned England and the Netherlands into Protestant countries, which didn’t care one bit what the Pope said. So along with the first two principles came a third: a European ruler could lay claim to territory in the New World simply by occupying it in force with settlers and soldiers.

Hence from 1600 onward, the Caribbean became the scene of a conflict between the Spanish, who thought they had an exclusive right to the region[iii], while the English, Dutch, and French, along with some minor powers, simply tried to seize and hold islands and coastal settlements in the region, sometimes successfully, sometimes not. And, as we’ll discuss in class, they found the buccaneers useful auxiliaries in supporting their wars against the Spanish as late as the 1690s.

Supposedly cannons in the early modern era could throw their shot three miles, hence the three-mile territorial waters limit. (Credit: Wikipedia/GrahamColm)

Supposedly cannons in the early modern era could throw their shot three miles, hence the three-mile territorial waters limit.
(Credit: Wikipedia/GrahamColm)

Meanwhile, powerful rulers were beginning to transforms their domains into states more closely resembling the ones we have today, with uniform laws and exclusive territorial control. Curiously, that development raised a problem in prosecuting pirates. For states only controlled their territorial waters. No state controlled the high seas, the waters more than 3 miles offshore. So if pirates operated on the high seas, who had the right to prosecute them?

Legal theorists had developed the idea of international law, law that applied to relations between states (not necessarily what we would call nations these days, but close enough). The idea was that there should be laws that apply universally to all humans, laws that could even constrain the actions of states. Who would enforce these laws was a good question, but the concept was there.

Since piracy on the high seas could not be prosecuted under the laws of any state, it seemed a good candidate for treatment by the international law. And so European legal theorists borrowed the idea from ancient Rome that that piracy was a crime against all humanity, because the pirates robbed and harmed people without regard to law or decency. While that resolved the status of piracy as a crime, it still left unclear who had the authority to prosecute piracy on the high seas. But the legal theorists had an answer for that as well. While no country could, on its own authority, prosecute piracy on the high seas, they could, as stewards for humanity and international law, take it upon themselves to prosecute piracy on the high seas for the offense against all humanity it was.

And so the laws of European states were extended over the oceans to which they had no proper claim, even in their own eyes, for the sake of ridding the world of piracy.

Barbary (Muslim North African) pirates attacking a Frech ship in the Mediterranean

Barbary (Muslim North African) pirates attacking a Frech ship in the Mediterranean

NOTES

[i] There are a few exceptions, including colonial possessions, disputed territories, and officially unclaimed territories.

[ii] Brazil was the exception, granted to the Portuguese because of their prior voyages of exploration, and due to the geographical accident of being east of the line drawn in the Treaty of Tordesillas (1494) between Spain and Portugal modifying the Pope’s ruling.

[iii] Officially conditional on converting the natives to Christianity, which, it must be said, the Spanish often did, never mind how or that they then proceeded to exploit the natives. The English policy of effectively driving the Native Americans off their lands wasn’t any better.

Summer “Pirates!” class postings

Now that summer’s here, and the Cambridge Center for Adult Education’s “Pirates!” course is in session, I expect I’ll be posting every week while the class is running.

However, due to a singular misadventure, the post I planned to put up for Sunday will not go up until Monday noon. My apologies to my students. In the meantime, I suggest they look at the previous posts on how Henry “Long Ben” Avery was linked to the fictional realm of Libertalia and the women pirates of the Caribbean.

Has the Adventure Galley of Captain Kidd been found?

Barry Clifford, famous for discovering the wreck of pirate captain Samuel Bellamy’s ship Whydah off of Cape Cod, has surfaced in the news with the claim that he has recovered a silver bar from the wreck of Captain William Kidd’s “pirate ship,” the Adventure Galley, off the coast of Madagascar in the Indian Ocean. If so, it would be one of the very few pirate ships ever salvaged, along with the Whydah and another pirate ship, the Quedah Merchant, also one of Kidd’s ships.

I’ve summarized Kidd’s career as a pirate-hunter turned pirate here. (For more details, Robert Ritchie’s Captain Kidd and the War Against the Pirates (1986) does an excellent job of combining scholarship with a lively narrative.) The Adventure Galley was the original pirate-hunting ship Kidd sailed to the Indian Ocean. Kidd abandoned it in 1698 on the island of Sainte Marie, a popular pirate haven just off the east coast of Madagascar, because the vessel was unseaworthy. The Quedah Merchant had been Kidd’s most lucrative prize as a pirate; he sailed that vessel from Madagascar to Hispaniola, before abandoning it in 1699 as too obvious an indication that he had indeed become a pirate.

Is Clifford’s find the Adventure Galley? As I’ve mentioned, many other pirates used Sainte Marie. In fact, a whole series of legendary tales developed around the pirates of Madagascar. (I’ll be offering a transcription of one of the oldest such stories sometime before July.) So while Clifford has the Whydah to his credit, Ritchie is right: there are other possibilities, and the silver bar in itself doesn’t tell us which ship it came from. It’s not like the Whydah, where Clifford found the ship’s bell inscribed with the ship’s name on it. I have to wonder if Clifford has seized on Kidd because his name is better known than that of the other Indian Ocean pirates. Nevertheless, I’m rooting for him to at least have found a pirate ship.

There are no surviving pictures of the Adventure Galley, but this is of a very similar ship, the Charles Galley

There are no surviving pictures of the Adventure Galley, but this is of a very similar ship, the Charles Galley

And now a change of topic: the Shakers go west

There is a blog called We’re History that offers historical insights written by historians for the general public. I occasionally contribute. Today’s post was mine, about the Shaker missionaries to Kentucky in the winter of 1805. It’s quite a little adventure that helped make the Shakers among the most successful communal groups in American history. You can get to it by following this hyperlink.

Shakers performing one of their famous dances during worship

Shakers performing one of their famous dances during worship

As low as one can go: the pirate captain Ned Low

Gentlemen pirates like Drake are knighted by the Queen

Gentlemen pirates like Drake are knighted by the Queen

Thanks to Rafael Sabatini and Hollywood, we have the popular image of the pirate captain as a heroic, and sometimes even noble figure. There’s something to be said about this when one talks about people such as Sir Francis Drake. But the Golden Age pirate captains were a common lot, and not known for their virtues. Oh, occasionally you run into the likes of Major Stede Bonnet, who was definitely a gentleman and not very good as a pirate captain. Or Edward England, who could so admire the fighting spirit of a merchant captain who fought against him that England set him free and let him go his way unharmed, instead of killing him as his pirate crew desired.

But those characters were exceptional. By and large, the only virtue pirate captains had was bravery in battle. They were thieves, plain and simple, leaders of thieving crews, capable of unreasoning violence.

And sometimes they were much, much worse. How bad? Consider the case of Ned Low.

Keep in mind that by the 1713-1730 “Golden Age of Piracy,” there were a lot of pirates who had served on merchantmen. They had not enjoyed the low pay or harsh discipline imposed by many captains. And they sometimes took vengeance on captains of ships they seized as prizes. They’d ask the seamen on that ship if the captain was a good man or bad, and treat him accordingly. Good captains often got their ships back, and even much of their cargo. Bad captains might be killed.

Nope, no oil portraits of Ned Low for some reason. Instead we have this engraving, which you would think is symbolic of what Ned did to commerce, but is really about an actual incident when a  storm almost sank his ship

Nope, no oil portraits of Ned Low for some reason. Instead we have this engraving, which you would think is symbolic of what Ned did to commerce, but is really about an actual incident when a storm almost sank his ship

But this does not explain Ned Low. Ned seems to have combined innate viciousness with a lust for vengeance, and, to make matters worse, easily took offense. His career as a pirate captain began on May 28, 1722, when pirate captain George Lowther decided he would better be rid of a trouble causer like Ned, and turned over a new prize to him. That tells you something about Ned right there, that a pirate captain considered him too wild.

Many pirates would ransack the cargoes of the ships they captured, taking what they wanted, and sometimes casually destroying the rest. But that wasn’t enough for Ned Low. No, during much of his career as a pirate Ned preferred to set fire to the ships and destroy them and their remaining cargo. New England and Portuguese ships in particular got this treatment due to grudges Ned held.

Still, that was better than his treatment of the people on board of the ships he captured. He’d captured a French ship of 34 guns in July, but decided to scrap her after taking a pink (a square-rigged narrow-stern cargo ship) that sailed better. Apparently the French ship’s cook had been unsatisfactory, his cooking too greasy, because Ned had him bound to the mainmast before he burned the ship. The joke was watching the cook burn, to see if he was also too greasy.

Ned's crew thought that stringing up people was entertaining

Ned’s crew thought that stringing up people was entertaining

At least the poor cook wasn’t Portuguese. Low seems to have disliked them even more than the French. He captured a ship in August with Portuguese passengers. His crew delighted in stringing up two Portuguese friars to the foreyard mast by their arms until they were almost dead, bringing them down to recover, and then repeating this feat. One of the other Portuguese passengers on deck was disemboweled with a cutlass for looking sorrowfully upon the treatment of the friars.

On yet another occasion, Low took a Portuguese ship and tortured several of the men to find out whether there was money on board. There indeed had been, but the captain had tossed the money overboard, rather than let the pirates have it. For his pains, Low had the captain’s lips cut off and broiled them up as a delicacy right before the poor captain’s eyes. Only then did Low order the murder of the entire 32-man crew of the Portuguese ship. After all, one can only torture them before they’re dead.

Back in his early days, Ned had been a logwood man, cutting logs in the Bay of Honduras. Logwood men hated the Spanish, for the Spanish considered the Bay their territory, and often attacked the logwood men. So when Ned Low decided to pay a visit to the Bay in May of 1723 and captured a Spanish ship that had taken some logwood cutters prisoner, it is no wonder he decided to kill the entire Spanish crew. Some of the Spanish escaped by jumping overboard, but Ned ordered a boat out to hunt those men down and kill them.

Ned on one of his "off" days: he actually gave the captain a choice between taking a drink or being shot. The captain drank.

Ned on one of his “off” days: he actually gave the captain a choice between taking a drink or being shot. The captain drank.

About a month later, Low took a New England ship sailing from Jamaica. As I’ve said, Low had an animosity toward New Englanders because they had sent out ships to hunt him. So he took the captain and cut off his ears, slit his nose, and “cut him in several places of his body.” The next ship Ned took wasn’t from New England, but Ned decided to torture the crew anyway, Besides the usual slashes with a cutlass, he had burning matches tied between their fingers to burn away the flesh.

After barely getting away from an encounter with a Royal Navy ship, Ned became even more vicious. He had the captain of the next ship he took whipped naked around his deck before cutting off his ears. Only then did he kill the captain and sink his boat. (The crew survived.) He was a bit more lenient with the next boat he took, only cutting off the captain’s head. But then he returned to his usual habits. One particularly unfortunate captain had his ears cut off and then was forced to eat them. At least he got to season them with salt and pepper.

In short, Edward Low was no gentleman. Did he have any redeeming features? Well, yes, one. He’d apparently been happily married to a woman who died in childbirth. Supposedly that was one reason why, when he needed more crew members, he preferred to force single men and not married ones. And that’s the whole of Ned Low’s virtues.

Curiously, we don’t know what happened to Ned. One account has him hanged by the French, another that he was deposed by his crew and marooned on an island where he died. Frankly, I think a fitting end would have been for him to end up the victim of cannibals.

Fighting Jacobean pirates: Sir Henry Mainwaring’s treatise

One of the charms of being a historian is tracking down and reading primary sources. I’ve been meaning for some time to track down Sir Henry Mainwaring’s advice on how to wage war against pirates. I finally got hold of it online the other day. It’s not quite what I expected, but that, too, is valuable information.

Brasenose later in the 17th century

Brasenose later in the 17th century

I don’t have a picture of Henry Mainwaring, as there doesn’t seem to be one, but I can tell you a bit about him. Mainwaring[i] was born in 1587, the second son of a gentleman. He attended Brasenose College, Oxford, getting his B.A. in 1602. He was admitted as a student to the Inner Temple (a law college) in 1604.

What Mainwaring did over the next half-dozen years or so is unclear. He’d had an uncle who’d been Vice-Admiral of Sussex, and given his subsequent career, it is reasonable to suppose he served on ships at some point. He also developed the art of cultivating patrons. And since in 1611 he was made the captain of a castle near Southampton, he possibly had some military experience overseas.

However, if he ever served as the castle captain, it was not for long, for in the same year he received a commission to hunt pirates in the Bristol Channel. As often has happened, piracy flourished after the end of a war, in this case the war between England and Spain, which had concluded in 1603. But it was not just the coasts of England and Ireland that were infested with pirates. Many English sailors, still willing to wage war against the Spanish after the conclusion of peace, took service with the Barbary pirates and their Christian opponents in the war of corsairs that was perpetually waged across the Mediterranean.

Spanish Men-of-War Engaging Barbary Corsairs (1615) by Cornelis Vroom (1591 -1661)

Spanish Men-of-War Engaging Barbary Corsairs (1615) by Cornelis Vroom (1591 -1661)

And this, not fighting pirates, is where Mainwaring ended up. By 1613, he was the head of a pirate fleet based in Mamora, a port on the Atlantic coast of Morocco. He avoided taking English ships, but was especially pleased when he captured a Spanish one. He voyaged to Newfoundland in 1614, and supplied his vessels from the French and Portuguese fishing fleets there with men and ship stores. The Spanish took advantage of his absence to seize Mamora, which caused him to shift his operations to the Italian port of Villefranca instead.[ii] There he proved so formidable that a squadron of Spanish warships was sent after him, only to be badly battered despite outnumbering Mainwaring’s ships five to four.

King James trying to look dashing and royal (1620), by Paul van Somer (1577 - 1621)

King James trying to look dashing and royal (1620), by Paul van Somer (1577 – 1621)

While in the days of Drake or Morgan, attacking the Spanish had been all fine and well, King James I of England[iii] wanted peace with Spain, and Mainwaring’s activities jeopardized that peace. So James sent a message to Mainwaring, offering him a pardon if he gave up piracy, but threatening to send a fleet to destroy him if he refused. Mainwaring, as his later life would prove, was quite loyal to the Crown, and surrendered himself and was pardoned in 1616.

He promptly proved his usefulness by seizing a “Turkish” pirate ship in the Thames, and then building a pinnace for the Lord Warden of the Cinque Ports, who became his patron. James had kept his eye on Mainwaring, and in recognition of his efforts both knighted him and appointed him a gentleman of the royal bedchamber in 1618.

And here is where Mainwaring shows his talent at cultivating patrons. He had written up a short treatise entitled Of the Beginnings, Practices, and Suppression of Piracy, summing up his own experience and offering advice.  He had a handsome copy of this made, in a slim volume with gold lettering at the beginning of each chapter, and presented it to the king as a thank-offering, quite possibly on the same day he was knighted.

It’s a fascinating little piece.[iv] It was customary in those days for authors to dedicate their works to some illustrious person, and to praise them in the highest degree, and who is more illustrious than a king? Yet even in the dedication, Mainwaring’s personality shows through. He can’t help but super-praise his own career, and mention all the other sovereigns who offered him a pardon and protection!

Mainwaring breaks up his discussion of piracy into five sections: 1) how pirates begin, 2) why people turn pirate, 3) how pirates operate, 4) the geography of piracy, and 5) how to suppress pirates. He’s well aware of our three requirements for piracy,[v] and they inform his treatment. For example, he says that Ireland produces more pirates as a percentage of her population than England does because the natives support and trade with pirates readily.

One can tell Mainwaring writes from extensive experience. He knows well the harbors Barbary pirates frequent, and where and when they take up station to hunt for prey. He makes no bones about how hard a sailor’s life is, and why piracy is an attractive option. For all that, he has no low opinion of such men, but thinks the state could put them to good use, preferably in the navy.

Some of the practices Mainwaring describes will sound quite familiar to anyone who has read about the “Golden Age” pirates. Mainwaring reports that pirate ships will pretend to be slow of sail or in distress to keep merchant ships from suspecting them and fleeing from them. They’ll use false colors[vi] to the same effect. Because merchant ship crews are often outnumbered and see no reason to fight for a ship and cargo they don’t own, it is possible for pirates to capture larger and better-armed ships than they possess, allowing them to “trade up.”

Some practices he describes are quaint. The Irish country people trusted the pirates, but would not trade openly with them for fear of the law. Instead, they would tell the pirate captain where the desired goods might be found, and it was up to the pirates to come get them while leaving adequate remuneration behind.

Mainwaring believes one reason piracy flourishes is because the state only hangs the pirate leaders. The crew are generally punished with nothing more than prison sentences, which Mainwaring observes isn’t that much different from being on a ship! In his view, many pirates only engage in “the trade” long enough to make some money and hope to escape detection, while others hardened to the life expect another war with Spain will come soon enough to legitimize them.

To prevent piracy, Mainwaring makes several recommendations. He thinks people who have been pirates should be barred from living near the coast unless known to have reformed. He believes it would be even more effective to supply suitable employment for such people to take advantage of their skills, as King James did in Mainwaring’s particular case. Mainwaring does not believe the Navy as then constituted would serve that purpose, as the conditions are miserable and the pay so bad.

Curiously, Mainwaring cautions against granting pardons, on the grounds that it encourages people to turn pirate. In this, he belies his own experience. What matters is more how frequently pardons were granted, and whether they were followed up with force to bring in the more recalcitrant criminals. Woodes Rogers’ experience in the Bahamas from 1718 onward shows that, when done right, a general pardon can be very effective.

Mainwaring saw more promise in using force, provided the right ships were used. He recommends using “floaty” ships, ships with a shallow draft, such as can pursue pirates to their hideaways. And of course they must carry enough guns to be of superior force. He goes into detail on how to deploy such a force against Irish pirates, but cautions that official corruption will bedevil such efforts.

Overall, I get the impression Mainwaring was setting himself up as the man for the job. But it was a job he never got. Not that King James, or his successor King Charles I neglected Mainwaring. He was frequently employed in naval affairs, and rose to be a vice admiral. Perhaps in gratitude, he made his greatest miscalculation and sided with the Royalists in the Civil War. He was forced into exile with Prince Charles (the future Charles II) by 1647. Old and tired, his property lost, and thinking that the royal cause was also lost, Mainwaring returned to England and made his peace with Parliament in 1651. He died in 1655, and was buried beside his wife.[vii]

Those who compiled his biography and papers in 1922 thought Mainwaring’s significance was as one of the contributors to the evolution of the Royal Navy from a sea militia to a professional force. From that perspective, his treatise on piracy was a promising step in developing a strategy for one of the problems facing the Royal Navy. It is a pity that it would be often neglected over the next century.

[i] The surname is variously spelled.

[ii] Villefranca was then a port in the Duchy of Savoy, who opened his harbors to pirates as a way of fighting his Spanish enemies . . . and making a profit off the pirate trade.

[iii] He was originally King James VI of Scotland, a member of the Stewart dynasty, and came to the throne in 1567 at the age of one year! His mother, the famous Mary, Queen of Scots, had been forced to abdicate by the Scottish nobility. She fled to England, where she was imprisoned and later executed by her cousin, Queen Elizabeth I of England. Ironically, when Elizabeth died childless in 1603, the nearest heir was her victim’s son James! He became king of both countries and reigned until 1625.

[iv] If you’re interested in reading it, it is included in G.E. Manwaring and W.G. Perrin, eds., The Life and Works of Sir Henry Mainwaring, Vol. II (1922), which can be found online.

[v] Commerce worth seizing, lack of naval opposition, support from a home base.

[vi] Flags and pennants.

[vii] Having tried and failed to marry a rich widow, Mainwaring had apparently gone to the other extreme and in 1630 eloped with the fourth daughter of a country gentleman without his permission. She was born in 1603, and hence about sixteen years Mainwaring’s junior. It was not a lengthy marriage, for she died in 1633. Mainwaring never married again.