wars are like the mathematici in old Rome: a sort of people that will always be found fault with, but still made use of."

Von Martens, a great authority upon maritime law, is equally plain-spoken: "Pirates have always been considered the enemies of mankind, and proscribed and punished accordingly. On the contrary, privateers are encouraged to this day (1801), notwithstanding all the complaints of neutral Powers, of which they are the scourge; and notwithstanding all their excesses, which it has been in vain attempted to suppress by ill-observed laws."

Admiral Vernon, in 1745, while acknowledging the services of privateers in distressing the enemy's trade and bringing an addition of wealth into the country, deprecates their employment on the ground of the general tendency to debauch the morals of our seamen, by substituting greed of gain for patriotism[2]; and Lord Nelson, in 1804, says: "The conduct of all privateers is, as far as I have seen, so near piracy that I only wonder any civilised nation can allow them."

This is a sorry story of the privateer, and tends to discount sadly the romantic element so commonly associated with him. This is not a romance, however, and, having thus cleared the ground, we must be content to take the privateer, like Kipling's "Absent-minded Beggar," as we find him; and, by way of consolation and reward for our ingenuousness, we shall come across privateersmen whose skill, gallantry, and absolute integrity of conduct would do credit to many a hero of the Royal Navy.

The almost universal practice which prevailed in former times, of arming merchant vessels, particularly in certain trades, as a protection against pirates and privateers, has led to a considerable amount of misunderstanding. There are many instances upon record of spirited and successful defence, even against a very superior force, on the part of these armed traders, which have frequently been cited as privateer actions. These vessels, however, carried no warlike commission, and must not therefore be included in this category. Captain Hugh Crow, of Liverpool, who was engaged for many years in the West African slave trade, is a case in point. He fought some severe actions, upon one occasion with two British sloops-of-war, which he mistook in the dark for French privateers; the error being reciprocal, they pounded away at each other in the darkness, and it was not until Crow, after a desperate and most creditable resistance, was compelled at length to surrender, that victors and vanquished discovered their error: a very remarkable incident. Captain Crow was a shining light, in those unhappy slaving times, by reason of his humanity and integrity, and was beloved by the negroes from Bonny to Jamaica, where he landed so many cargoes.

Some celebrities of the sea have also been erroneously styled privateers; among others, the notorious Paul Jones, and Captain Semmes, of Alabama fame. Jones was a renegade, being a Scotsman by birth, and his proper name John Paul; but he fought under a regular commission from the United States, and was subsequently accorded the rank of Rear-Admiral in the Russian service. It must be admitted, however, that his conduct afforded some grounds for the appellation of "Paul Jones the Pirate," by which he was sometimes known; but he was a consummate seaman, and a man of infinite courage and resource.

Semmes was also employed as a commissioned naval officer by the Confederate States, in the Civil War of 1860; and though he was classed at first as a "rebel" by the Northerners, and threatened with a pirate's fate if captured, the recognition of the Confederates as a belligerent State by foreign Powers had already rendered such views untenable.

It appears desirable to allude to these instances, in order to anticipate a possible question as to the exclusion of such famous seamen from these pages.

There is also considerable confusion among authors as to the distinction between a pirate and a privateer, some of them being apparently under the impression that the terms are synonymous, while others, through imperfect knowledge of the details and ignorance of international law, have classed as pirates men who did not merit that opprobrious title, and, on the other hand, have placed the "buccaneers"—who were sheer pirates—in the same category as legitimate privateers.

For instance, Captain Woodes Rogers, of whom we shall have a good deal to say later on, is alluded to by one writer as "little more than a pious pirate," and by another simply as a pirate, bent upon "undisguised robbery"; whereas he was, in fact, more than once in serious conflict with his crew, upon the occasion of their demanding the capture and plunder of a ship which he was not entitled to seize—and, moreover, he had his own way.

There have been, no doubt, and with equal certainty there will be, incidents in warfare which afford very unpleasant reading, and in which the aggressors appear to have been unduly harsh and exacting, not to say cruel, towards defenceless or vanquished people; but that does not prove that they were not within their rights, and to impugn the conduct of an individual from a hastily and perhaps ignorantly adopted moral standpoint, at the expense of the legal aspect of the matter, must obviously involve the risk of gross injustice. War is a very terrible thing, and is full of terrible incidents which are quite inevitable, and the rough must be taken with the smooth—if you can find any smooth!

It is an axiom of international law that, when two nations are at war, every subject of each is at war with every subject of the other; and, in view of this fact, it appears extremely doubtful whether any merchant vessel is not at liberty to capture one of the other side, if she be strong enough. It is, in fact, laid down by Sir Travers Twiss, a high authority, that if a merchant vessel, attacked by one of the enemy's men-of-war, should be strong enough to turn the tables, she would be entitled to make a prize of her: an unlikely incident, of course.

It is unnecessary, however, to enter upon further discussion of this subject, which would involve us in very knotty problems, upon some of which the most accomplished authorities are still at variance, and which would afford very indifferent entertainment for the reader, who will now turn over the page and follow the fortunes of our privateers—which will be found by no means devoid of interest, in spite of strict adherence to the plain unvarnished truth.