The Jolly Roger


Traveling the high seas has never been the epitome of comfort and safety, but in the 17th and 18th centuries, when the likes of Captains Morgan, Kidd, and Blackbeard roamed the Spanish Main and the coasts of the Americas, was there a sight more dreaded that of a pirate ship flying the infamous skull-and-crossbones? In a word, yes—running afoul of a pirate ship NOT flying the Jolly Roger.

     Just as the Geneva Convention is observed today by many nations, so then was there a certain code of warfare laid down by the "Brethren of the Coast." Many pirates took to using a symbol of mortality (a skull with crossed bones or swords, skeleton, even an hourglass) to announce their intentions. Ironically, the Jolly Roger was typically a signal that quarter (i.e.— mercy) would be given if no resistance were offered. So effective it was that most ships simply gave up without a fight. Despite his reputation, there is no official record that Blackbeard ever harmed a captive in his keep. The lion's share of his legend (along with the misadventures of many other buccaneers) was drawn from a book published in 1724, entitled "A General History of the Robberies and Murders of the Most Notorious Pyrates." The "General History of the Pirates," as it is more commonly known was authored by Captain Charles Johnson, whom some believe was a nom de plume for novelist Daniel Defoe (of Robinson Crusoe fame). The book's sensational accounts were gleaned largely from trial transcripts and contemporary newspaper stories. Published within only a few years of the deaths of Blackbeard (1718), "Calico Jack" Rackham (1720) and "Black Bart" Bartholomew Roberts (1724), the histories are still considered to be generally accurate, but have a definite tabloid flavor to them. Had Elvis or Bigfoot been part of eighteenth century vernacular, they might well have found their way into the stories as well. Intentional or not, it turned brigands into the stuff of legends and has colored our view of the Golden Age of Piracy for almost three centuries.

     The brutality and bloodshed wreaked by pirates and privateers (legal pirates) alike is well documented. A hostage might be roasted on a spit just for being French...or English...or Spanish, depending on the prejudice of the captor. On the other hand, some pirates seemed to go out of their way not to harm the vanquished. Sir Francis Drake was noted for gifting the captain and crew of the captured Spanish treasure ship Cacafuego (yes, I know how it translates) before releasing them.  In fact, buccaneers could be a strangely honorable lot. Some did not choose their profession, but rather had infamy thrust upon them by bad turns of luck and shifting political winds. Captain Kidd, for instance, was a privateer ostensibly in the service of England, who suddenly found himself on the wrong side of the crown when his activities proved politically embarrassing. James Kidd fancied himself a pious man who owned a pew at Trinity Church, New York. He reportedly allowed no swearing on his ship, held on-board services every Sunday. (Dread pirate?) Bartholomew Roberts was, in fact, a teetotaler, whose crew signed onto a rather extensive list of articles, according to Captain Johnson's history:

I.      Every man has a vote in the affairs of moment; has equal title to the fresh provisions, or strong liquors, at any time seized, and may use them at pleasure, unless a scarcity makes it necessary, for the good of all, to vote a retrenchment.

II.      Every man to be called fairly in turn, by list, on board of prizes because, (over and above their proper share) they were on these occasions allowed a shift of clothes: but if they defrauded the company to the value of a dollar in plate, jewels, or money, marooning was their punishment. If the robbery was only betwixt one another, they contented themselves with slitting the ears and nose of him that was guilty, and set him on shore, not in an uninhabited place, but somewhere, where he was sure to encounter hardships.

III.      No person to game at cards or dice for money.

IV.      The lights and candles to be put out at eight o'clock at night: if any of the crew, after that hour still remained inclined for drinking, there were to do it on the open deck.

V.      To keep their piece, pistols, and cutlass clean and fit for service.

VI.      No boy or woman to be allowed amongst them. If any man was to be found seducing any of the latter sex, and carried her to sea, disguised, he was to suffer death.

VII.      To desert the ship or their quarters in battle, was punished with death or marooning.

VIII.      No striking one another on board, but every man's quarrels to be ended on shore, at sword and pistol. (Not necessarily to the death. According to Captain Johnson, if both opponents missed at pistols, they drew cutlasses. He was declared the victor who drew first blood.)

IX.      No man to talk of breaking up their way of living, till each had shared £1,000. If in order to this, any man should lose a limb, or become a cripple in their service, he was to have 800 dollars, out of the public stock, and for lesser hurts proportionally.

X.      The captain and quartermaster to receive two shares of a prize: the master, boatswain, and gunner, one share and a half, and the other officers one and a quarter.

XI.      The musicians to have rest on the Sabbath Day, but the other six days and nights, none without special favour.

        Articles were an invaluable part of maintaining order on a ships often manned by cutthroats, deserters, thieves, escaped slaves, and every other sort of outcast imaginable. Articles varied from crew to crew. Every man, from the captain down, signed the agreed upon code of conduct including specified shares of any booty captured.  Alexander Exquemelin, a former surgeon to a pirate band detailed  a typical division of shares in "Buccaneers of America", published in 1678. Not only were shares predetermined for pay, but also to cover serious injures that might occur:
  • Loss of right arm ... 600 pieces of eight
  • Loss of left arm ... 500 pieces of eight
  • Loss of right leg ... 500 pieces of eight
  • Loss of left leg ... 400 pieces of eight
  • Loss of and eye or finger ... 100 pieces of eight

As you see, pirates were the pioneers of medical insurance. Winds a'int 'alf changed much 'ave they matey?


Acknowledgments: 3, 4, 8, 12, 64



© Russ Brown, 1997, 1999, 2003
 
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