The HEA Cafe

I like reading books about pirates.  I like writing books about pirates.  But let’s face it, pirates are people who rob other people for a living.  This is a problem for me when I’m trying to write a pirate hero.  Would I write a bank robber hero?  Not very likely.  So why are we willing to accept pirate heroes?

Part of it is the romance of piracy.  Running away to sea, answering to no one but your shipmates, living life for the moment rather than the future, all good things.  Who would you rather spend an evening drinking with, Long John Silver or the guy who owns the tavern?  Plus the pirates get to dress with more flair than the shopkeeper.

As romance writers we work around this by making our pirates tragic, or funny, or on a mission, or in disguise, but unless you’re really tricky, it all comes back to him taking what isn’t his, and that’s theft.

You can avoid this issue, to a degree, by making your pirates privateers instead.  The difference between a pirate and a privateer is that a privateer has a license to steal.  Literally.  Governments would issue “letters of marque” to sea captains, authorizing them to stop-and-rob enemy ships.

The legal line between piracy and privateering could shift around, and many famous pirates were also privateers, and vice versa, Sir Henry Morgan and William Kidd both had letters of marque, but were also charged with piracy by England.   In the early 19th Century, Mexico and South American countries breaking away from Spain issued letters of marque to captains of all backgrounds who would agree to harass Spanish shipping.  Many of these sea rovers were little more than pirates, but it was in the interest of the rebelling countries to harass Spain, even if the privateer captains were neglectful about making sure the government issuing the letter of marque got its cut of the booty.

In the United States, the US Merchant Marine proudly includes privateers among its founders, pointing out, rightly, that in its earliest days the US only had merchant ships that could be put into action, not a standing navy. In the War of 1812 there were 23 USN ships in service, and 517 privateers.  Becoming a privateer was a favorite “get rich quick” plan for merchant captains, though naturally it carried a high risk.  The ships you attacked were likely to fight back, and if you were captured, the enemy nation might not wish to honor the letter of marque. John Paul Jones was a hero to the US, a pirate to the British.

All European and US governments engaged in privateering (they got a cut of the take) well into the 19th century, however, the US did not sign the 1856 Declaration of Paris that ended European use of privateers.  The Confederate States of America issued letters of marque to allow Southern privateers to harass US shipping during the Civil War and while we don’t issue letters of marque in the US today, it’s still possible.  Section 8 of the United States constitution says that Congress has the power “To declare war, grant letters of marque and reprisal, and make rules concerning captures on land and water”.

It would make for an interesting contemporary romance–a bold, swashbuckling adventurer, perhaps a former Special Forces operative, is issued a letter of marque and reprisal to go hunt down terrorists.

I’m not going to write that one, but it’s an interesting idea.  In the meantime, I’ll go back to working on my pirate and privateer historicals, ‘cause who doesn’t like to read about pirates?  I know I do.