• We have updated the guidelines regarding posting political content: please see the stickied thread on Website Issues.

Why Are Pirates Romanticised?

There's an episode of South Park asking just this same question. Cartman persuades a bunch of other kids to join him for a life of adventure on the high seas in the magic pirate kingdom of Somalia, where of course the reality doesn't quite match the fantasy.


Screenshot 2023-03-21 at 10.59.56 PM.png
 
The more distance in time between committing bloody crime and the present, the more those crimes become romanticised. This can be seen with pirates, vikings, highwaymen, prohibition gangsters etc. etc. In my own neck of the woods, the smugglers of Sussex, Hampshire and the Isle of Wight are much romanticised - and certainly had strong ties to local communities; they were, however, ruthless and inventively cruel when dealing with snitches, witnesses and excisemen.
 
Last edited:
IIRC smugglers were mostly trying to avoid taxation for landing goods but as taxation was reduced it became less profitable, and so it generally died out.
 
But I dont think many smugglers robbed or murdered if it could be helped.
I think that view is a result of the romanticisation process. I recall reading about a boy going about his normal business and accidentally coming across smugglers - they cut his throat. In times and places where life is cheap, there is a casual approach to violence. In the case of the smugglers, they were stonger in some parts of the countryside than the state (comparisons could be drawn to gangs in Latin America and elsewhere), so there was little real prospect of being caught unless the crime was vicious enough to stir the authorities into action. IIRC the Hawkhurst Gang was brought down because they murdered a witness and the accompanying law official on the way to trial - the local lord was outraged that it happened on his patch, and threw a lot of political will into wiping them out.
 
I think that view is a result of the romanticisation process. I recall reading about a boy going about his normal business and accidentally coming across smugglers - they cut his throat. In times and places where life is cheap, there is a casual approach to violence. In the case of the smugglers, they were stonger in some parts of the countryside than the state (comparisons could be drawn to gangs in Latin America and elsewhere), so there was little real prospect of being caught unless the crime was vicious enough to stir the authorities into action. IIRC the Hawkhurst Gang was brought down because they murdered a witness and the accompanying law official on the way to trial - the local lord was outraged that it happened on his patch, and threw a lot of political will into wiping them out.

Yes. It's worth remembering that in the years of the Bloody Code, when so many of these tales took hold, very minor offences could result in the death penalty. It stands to reason that in an era when you could be executed just for stealing rabbits, or picking a pocket or two (along with another 200 plus offences, many incredibly minor) then, for a certain temperament, the argument for using extreme violence for the purposes of neutralising witnesses and thereby avoiding the law would have been a persuasive one.
 
There's a tale about the Bell Inn in Hythe concerning smugglers. It relates how in 1963 the landlord decided to open up an old fireplace and two skeletons dressed in Customs or Revenue men's clothes were discovered. The story claims they had been killed by smugglers who used the inn as a base.
Although it is said to have happened comparatively recently nobody has been able to find any contemporary records of the find and some small bones are said to have been identified as coming from a pig!
It shows how quickly a myth can be built out of nothing.

One of the steam locomotives on the Romney, Hythe and Dymchurch Railway is named Dr Syn, after the smuggler hero of Russell Thorndike's novels which are set in the Romney Marsh area.
 
Its a cut above the usual `secret tunnels` story.

Which I heard all the time in Cornwall; bear in mind the Cornish love to dig holes....

(Yes! There are attested archaeological examples of hidden hidey holes, for the life of me I cant recall where I read about it...)


Anyhow, modern problems, blessmycottonsocks, why is little being done about them?
 
I don’t know anything about pirates.

When I was growing up I was into black and white TV programs like Flash Gordon or Men into Space.

But, I was surprised when I read Wikipedia that pirates lived by a code of sharing and the Captain got two shares.

The code demanded no women or children aboard and any arguments had to be settled on land and not on the ship.

The code demanded clean weapons ready to fight.

But the one that surprised me was always early to bed on the ship to be ready to fight if needed.

It seems they had a very democratic life.
 
Pirates of the golden age were largely free to do as they pleased in an era when most people were locked into fairly rigid roles at birth. Well, they were free until killed in combat or caught and hanged; but I wonder how pirate life expectancy compared with that of contemporary naval seamen. In many cases, they ate better.

Those who find the idea of the rule-breaking bad boy appealing of course would see them as more romantic; while their victims, and staunch supporters of law and order, arguably less so. Naturally, the reality was grubbier than the tales spun from it, though from what I've seen, most pirate stories don't really shy away from the violence or the filth.
 
The hypocritical romanticism the western world has traditionally-imbued classic pirates with can be seen as a moral indictment of both the individual and the passivated society they inhabit. We can all agree that a level of fantastical doublethink applies to these criminals specifically because of their attractive-yet-terrifying invincibility, and metamythical omnipresence.

Highwaymen and bands of thieving landlubbers have sometimes garnered a certain level of admiration or envy over the years: but they cannot hold that escapololgist's ace card suite of the sea, a ship, and a far horizon.

Emerson Lake & Palmer sung it so well with their marvelous masterpiece 'Pirates'- listen & love....

Who'll make his mark the Captain cried
To the Devil drink a toast
We'll glut the hold with cups of gold
And we'll feed the sea with ghosts
I see your hunger for a fortune
Could be better served beneath my flag
If you've the stomach for a broadside
Come aboard my pretty boys
I will take you and make you
Everything you've ever dreamed.
Make fast the guns tonight we sail
When the high tide floods the bay
Cut free the lines and square the yards
Get the black flag stowed away.
The Turk the Arab and the Spaniard
Will soon have pennies on their eyes
And any other laden fancy
We will take her by surprise
I will take you and make you
Everything you've ever dreamed...

Six days off the Cuban coast when a sail ahead they spied
A Galleon of the treasure fleet the mizzen lookout cried
Closer to the wind my boys the mad eyed Captain roared
For every man that's alive tonight will be hauling gold aboard.
Spare us the galleon begged
But mercy's face had fled
Blood ran from the screaming souls
The cutlass harvested
Driven to the quarter deck the last survivor fell
She's ours my boys the Captain grinned
And no one left to tell

The Captain rose from a silk divan
With a pistol in his fist
And shot the lock from an iron box
And a blood red ruby kissed
I give you jewelry of turquoise
A crucifix of solid gold
One hundred thousand silver pieces
It is just as I foretold
You, you see there before you
Everything you've ever dreamed

Anchored in an indigo moonlit bay
Gold eyed 'round fires the sea thieves lay
Morning, white shells and a pipe of clay
As the wind filled their footprints
They were far, far away

Our sails swell full as we brave all seas
On a westward wind to live as we please
With the wicked wild eyed woman
Of Portobello town
Where we've been told
That a purse of gold
Buys any man a crown
They will serve you and cloth you
Exchange your rags
For the velvet coats of kings

Who'll drink a toast with me
I give you liberty
This town is ours - tonight!
Landlord wine and make it the finest
Make it a cup for a sea dogs thirst
Two long years of bones and beaches
Fever and leaches did their worst
So fill the night with paradise
Bring me peach and peacock
'Till I burst, but first, I want a soft touch
In the right place
I want to feel like a king tonight
Ten on the black to beat the Frenchman
Back you dogs give them room to turn
Now open wide sweet Heavens gate
Tonight were gonna see if Heaven burns
I want an angel on a gold chain
And I'll ride her to the stars
It's the last time for a long, long time
Come the daybreak we embark
On the flood of the morning tide
Once more the ocean cried

This company will return one day
Though we feel your tears
It's the price we pay
For there's prizes to be taken
And glory to be found
Cut free the chains ake fast your souls
We are Eldorado bound
I will take you
For always, forever, together
Until Hell calls our names

Who'll drink a toast with me
To the Devil and the deep blue sea
Gold drives a man to dream!
 
Last edited:
Pirates of the golden age were largely free to do as they pleased in an era when most people were locked into fairly rigid roles at birth. Well, they were free until killed in combat or caught and hanged; but I wonder how pirate life expectancy compared with that of contemporary naval seamen. In many cases, they ate better.

Those who find the idea of the rule-breaking bad boy appealing of course would see them as more romantic; while their victims, and staunch supporters of law and order, arguably less so. Naturally, the reality was grubbier than the tales spun from it, though from what I've seen, most pirate stories don't really shy away from the violence or the filth.

“Most pirates didn’t last very long. It was a tough line of work: many were killed or injured in battle or in fights amongst themselves, and medical facilities were usually non-existent. Even the most famous pirates, such as Blackbeard or Bartholomew Roberts, only were active in piracy for a couple of years. Roberts, who had a successful career as a pirate, was only active from 1719 to 1722.”

https://www.thoughtco.com/facts-about-pirates-2136238

maximus otter
 
The hypocritical romanticism the western world has traditionally-imbued classic pirates with can be seen as a moral indictment of both the individual and the passivated society they inhabit. We can all agree that a level of fantastical doublethink applies to these criminals specifically because of their attractive-yet-terrifying invincibility, and metamythical omnipresence.

At least one pirate - Sir Francis Drake, is still regarded as a national hero.
 
At least one pirate - Sir Francis Drake, is still regarded as a national hero.

Although enemy states may have considered his actions piratical, it's my understanding that Drake was, strictly speaking, a privateer. He had an official commission to act - and to profit from those actions - as long as it was in the interests of the state; effectively an irregular auxiliary force fighting in line with the common interests of the nation. In legal terms, 'piracy' described violent action in the pursuit of profit of those with no commission from any authority (but themselves). I think.
 
I guess outlaws of one kind or another have deep roots in folklore etc. Robin Hood crops up in medieval songs and stories, IIRC. And, way older, characters like Beowulf, etc sort of have that quality, too.

That idea of someone being "wild" and somehow outside the reach of the law must be very compelling.

If you were a monk, travelling with some church silver along a remote woodland path and a group of ridiculously happy and chortling randomers jumped out on you, that would be pretty scary IRL (for the monks not the Merry Men). But that idea of taking from the rich to give to the poor is an idea most people can get behind and I guess your average 18thC pirate or highwayman, is just a similar sort of wealth redistribution...
 
Which I heard all the time in Cornwall; bear in mind the Cornish love to dig holes....

(Yes! There are attested archaeological examples of hidden hidey holes, for the life of me I cant recall where I read about it...)
Look up "fogue" or alternative spelling,
"fougou" (specific to Cornwall) or "souterrain" (more general). Fascinating and quite Fortean. Wikipedia is a good starting place.
 
Romanticised?

Living life with few bureaucratic worries.

A few clothes are all you need, plus your weapons, a bottle of rum and some tropical fruit.
On a ship in a calm sea or in the West Indies, with fresh fruit and access to attractive women.

No taxes, bills, paperwork, property repairs or church tithes.

In the case of privateers, the letter of marque giving the right to steal for your country and gain glory.


The reality?

As @Aether Blue and others have written above, there was poor access to reliable healthcare, the risk of vermin and lice, scabies, scurvy and venereal disease.

You'd risk battle wounds, harsh discipline on ship, and fights in pubs.

Shore leave might be spent in Wapping (London) where you'd find a temporary "wife" who'd store your money to stop you gambling and drinking it all away, by giving you a daily allowance.

Then go back to sea to earn more, with the loss of her affection possibly being an emotional drain.
 
Have we mentioned Robert Loius Stevenson yet? And if not, why not?
That writer was an arch-Romantic and a very influential glamouriser.
He started with himself. His middle name was `Lewis` and he changed it to `Loius` so that it sounded French.

His modus operandi was to take the (then) recent past and polish it until it shone.

With Treasure Island (1882) he became the J.K Rowling of his day - and did for seafaring vagabonds what Rowling has done for orphan schoolboys with special powers. No doubt there were pirate stories previous to this, but Stevenson wrote the rule book on this genre of story and all that we think we know about pirates can be traced back to him - pretty much.

It iks interesting to note that the character of Long John Silver was said to be inspired by the real life writer W.E Henley. The only connection was that Henley was a big, bearded cheery chap who had had the misfortune of losing one leg. So even middle-class suburban scribblers can get to be pirates.

We can blame Stevenson for pirate-lore in the same way that we can blame Charles Dickens for the British Christmas.
 
The hypocritical romanticism the western world has traditionally-imbued classic pirates with can be seen as a moral indictment of both the individual and the passivated society they inhabit. We can all agree that a level of fantastical doublethink applies to these criminals specifically because of their attractive-yet-terrifying invincibility, and metamythical omnipresence.

Highwaymen and bands of thieving landlubbers have sometimes garnered a certain level of admiration or envy over the years: but they cannot hold that escapololgist's ace card suite of the sea, a ship, and a far horizon...

I’m tempted to agree. But one thing that gives me pause for thought is that - during what one might call the golden age of pirating - an entirely regular and non-piratical life at sea was one of staggering hardship and official brutality, and a significant number of those who worked in that environment had been recruited through a process which – if it were to happen now - we would recognise as modern slavery. I can’t help wondering if an individual might forcibly absent themselves from that life in favour of another form of less official savagery, and still compare favourably to the legitimate norm.

I read an essay recently which suggested that one of the factors which may have played a part in the abolitionist movement taking firm hold in Great Britain was a form of empathy born of the home grown experience of impressment. It’s easy now to see the press gang as a quaint side note to history – but it was not. Impressment was a fearful thing, not at all uncommon, and a genuine concern for men of a certain age. (Numbers ‘recruited’ in such a way varied over time, increasing – predictably – in times of war; it is estimated that something like half the sailors serving in the Royal Navy at the time of the Battle of Trafalgar were victims of impressment.)

Possibly it was that same empathy - an artefact of the history of impressment - which created the tendency to romanticise those who revolted against the institutions that profited from it. As I suggested, many of these sailors had effectively rebelled against something which is recognisably within the definition of modern slavery.

There is, I believe, genuine evidence that some pirate bands did initiate a rough form of democratic organisation – but it’s years since I read anything about this. (David Cordingly’s books are pretty decent. Peter Lamborn Wilson’s, Pirate Utopia is a great read - although the author was an anarchist, so may have had something of an agenda. Peter Linebaugh’s, The Many-Headed Hydra: The Hidden History of the Revolutionary Atlantic is much more rigorous, but no less interesting for that.)
 
When I'm talking about 'romanticising' things, I am most particularly looking at it from my own sphere of life - taking situations and putting them into romantic novels; making the perpetrator of piracy (or being-a-Viking, or a motorcycle gang member) a romantic 'hero'.

And it nearly always seems to follow the same path - heroine is taken in by your pirate (or Viking or motorcycle gang) who them reveals him or them selves to be basically a decent, honest man at heart who has been overtaken by his lifestyle. The heroine helps him to right whatever wrongs have driven him to his life of (almost always sanitised) piracy/vikingism/gang membership and become the perfect partner. There is not a lot of call for random murders (anyone killed is inevitably 'the baddy'), whoring and drinking are kept to a mimimum too.

And so the stereotype continues.
 
Romanticised smugglers. Rudyard Kipling's A Smuggler's Song

https://www.poetrybyheart.org.uk/poems/a-smugglers-song

If you wake at midnight, and hear a horse's feet,
Don't go drawing back the blind, or looking in the street,
Them that ask no questions isn't told a lie.
Watch the wall my darling while the Gentlemen go by.

Five and twenty ponies,
Trotting through the dark -
Brandy for the Parson, 'Baccy for the Clerk.
Laces for a lady; letters for a spy,
Watch the wall my darling while the Gentlemen go by!

Running round the woodlump if you chance to find
Little barrels, roped and tarred, all full of brandy-wine,
Don't you shout to come and look, nor use 'em for your play.
Put the brishwood back again - and they'll be gone next day !

If you see the stable-door setting open wide;
If you see a tired horse lying down inside;
If your mother mends a coat cut about and tore;
If the lining's wet and warm - don't you ask no more !

If you meet King George's men, dressed in blue and red,
You be careful what you say, and mindful what is said.
If they call you " pretty maid," and chuck you 'neath the chin,
Don't you tell where no one is, nor yet where no one's been !

Knocks and footsteps round the house - whistles after dark -
You've no call for running out till the house-dogs bark.
Trusty's here, and Pincher's here, and see how dumb they lie
They don't fret to follow when the Gentlemen go by !

'If You do as you've been told, 'likely there's a chance,
You'll be give a dainty doll, all the way from France,
With a cap of Valenciennes, and a velvet hood -
A present from the Gentlemen, along 'o being good !

Five and twenty ponies,
Trotting through the dark -
Brandy for the Parson, 'Baccy for the Clerk.
Them that asks no questions isn't told a lie -
Watch the wall my darling while the Gentlemen go by !
 
Back
Top