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[[File:Privateering.jpg|thumbnail|275px|<i>Privateering: Patriots & Profits in the War of 1812</i>]]

A privateer is a privately-owned armed vessel which has a licence or letter of marque from the government that entitles it to capture enemy vessels during wartime. By 1812, privateering had evolved into a regulated, legal, and often lucrative, form of maritime warfare that complemented naval activities but was not like any navy. A privateer could be anything from a rowboat to a 600-ton ship, although the most successful were schooners in the 200-ton range.

While a few dozen keen young naval officers jockeyed for command of the few ships available, hundreds of civilian sailors rushed to sign on to a privateer where they would work for shares of all the prizes they could take. During the first few months of the war, privateering was the only game in town and everyone who could rushed to take advantage of it.

Having worked as an underwater archaeologist on a number of shipwrecks in Canada and the UK, and in a couple of Canadian national museums, when I decided to go back to school and do a masters degree, I wanted a topic with boats in it. I became interested in privateers when I was taking a colonial history course and discovered that Canada’s Atlantic Provinces sent out about 45 private armed vessels against American shipping in the War of 1812. I had never heard of privateering (except for Sir Francis Drake) and certainly had not known about its role in the War of 1812. I was fascinated by the idea of independent warfare for profit within a legal framework that stretched back to the Middle Ages and beyond. With so much of Canadian history dating to 1867, it was amazing to follow a process that was familiar to the Phoenicians, Crusaders, Elizabeth I, Henry VIII and on up to the American Civil War. Canadian history is not known for its swashbuckling so the concept of privateering was irresistible. That interest carried me into further research and a Ph.D. at the University of Leiden in the Netherlands where privateering was both longstanding and a respectable maritime activity for centuries.

Once I got to know the Atlantic Canadian privateers, I decided to see how American privateering compared. I wondered why so little was written about US privateering and many years later, I can see why. Compared to the 45 New Brunswick and Nova Scotia privateers from the War of 1812 and their few hundred prizes, I have found over 600 American privateers who captured nearly 2,000 prizes, although not even half of them made it to port. The documents are sparse and spread over half a dozen national and state archives collections, numerous historical societies and state and university libraries. It has been a multi-year Easter Egg hunt and even after writing my book, I am still finding out new things. Just last week I found another privateer.

Privateering was a huge risk for the ship’s owners, the men who put up the several thousand dollar bond for the ship’s good behaviour and the crew who put their lives on the line to take the prizes. Because it was often the only alternative to leaving a ship at anchor for the duration of the war, owners and merchants weighed the possibility of no profit against that of a potential fortune and decided whether or not to request a commission. There were, in fact, two options. A ship owner could obtain a letter of marque but prepare his ship for a regular trading voyage. He might add a few more men and guns in case a prize came along, but the crew would be paid wages and the vessel’s main purpose was trade. On the other hand, he could decide to forego any pretense of trade, take on extra guns and men, and go out and cruise against enemy shipping as a privateer. In that case, the crew signed Articles of Agreement in which they agreed to work for shares of any prizes they might take. Once all the court costs, duties and other fees were paid, the profits were shared equally between the owners (who supplied the ship and guns and outfitted it for the cruise) and the officers and crew (who sailed and fought it).

The crew decided which type of vessel they wanted to sail in and were generally committed to making their fortunes. Some were willing to fight to the death for it. I have found only one case where a privateer crew, out of food, sick, low on water and without a prize asked the captain to turn back. When he refused and flew into a rage, the crew calmly locked him in his cabin, sailed the ship home and turned themselves over to the authorities on returning to port.

Becoming a privateer was easy – becoming a successful privateer was not. The key to privateering was the letter of marque. A ship did not dare leave port without it. Most privateers carried several copies of their commission so that the prize master of a captured ship could prove that the prize was a legitimate capture if it were recaptured by the Royal Navy. As a rule, privateers were exempted from being pressed into the British navy and that was a very valuable protection. Because privateers were privately owned, crews tended to be local men and boys who were known to the ship owner or the captain. Many were related or had sailed together on merchant voyages before the war. Captains or ships with a good reputation as prize takers never had any problem finding a crew. Others might place an ad in a couple of local newspapers announcing a ‘rendez-vous’ for a given date and place, attracting crews with promises of making their fortune. There might even be a fife and drum on site to march the recruits down to the dock where the ship lay waiting. By the end of the war, when the British blockade sealed up port after port and the number of prizes was declining, men were less likely to join a privateer and captains might have to stop at a couple of ports to get a large enough crew.

Once the prize was taken into port, there were yet more legal hoops to jump through. The Admiralty Court system used in the War of 1812 developed in Britain over several centuries and was adopted and adapted by the United States once the colonies began to be settled and have maritime legal issues. Prize law was a special type of international law developed over time and administered by civil rather than criminal lawyers. Prize courts were designed to resolve cases quickly because a ship’s cargo could go bad, be destroyed, miss its market, etc. while the case was going through court. There was no jury, just a judge and legal representatives for each side. A clear-cut case could be over in a couple of weeks – though appeals and problems could extend a case for months. Sometimes, the judge decided that the captor had made a mistake and denied him the prize, but most of the time, the prize was declared “good and lawful” and condemned to the captor to be sold at auction to the highest bidder.

After looking at hundreds of privateers, I am pretty sure that profit was the primary motive. Privateering required a financial commitment on behalf of the owners and merchants who were primarily men of business. While many were no doubt patriotic citizens as well, they could have supported the American war effort in other ways without risking their money and their ships. Some had been involved with privateering during the American Revolution only 30 years earlier which fielded many more privateers and thus, were familiar with the potential profits. Others were accustomed to managing the risks of the shipping trade and saw privateering as a viable alternative, at least until the costs outweighed the profits.

The ideal capture was simple, civil and safe. Engaging in sea battles damaged the prize and/or the cargo thereby reducing its value at auction. It also damaged the captor, which meant time spent on repairs and refitting instead of privateering. Loss of crews, whether killed or wounded, lowered morale and made it harder to recruit new men. The fact that so many men died or suffered lost limbs or permanent disability, not to mention capture and imprisonment did not seem to dull the dream of certain wealth.

In privateering, like many other things, size mattered. The 45 British privateers from Atlantic Canada were mostly small schooners less than 100 tons who preyed on American shipping fairly close to home. Only one, the 67-ton Liverpool Packet was really successful. She was known as “the evil genius of the coasting trade” and was so effective against American shipping around Cape Cod, that local merchants began to suggest cutting a canal a century before the Cape Cod Canal became a reality. She is credited with at least 100 prizes, although 50 or half that number actually made it to port and through the court. It is impossible to determine what her net earnings were, but estimates range from one to four million dollars. When her owner, Enos Collins, died at nearly 100 years of age, he was reputed to be the wealthiest man in Nova Scotia.

Privateering offered maritime communities an economic outlet at a time when there was little money to be made elsewhere. It supported the sail-makers, rope walks, chandlers, taverns and all the trades dependent on the sea. Those who earned money tended to spend it at home, so privateering benefitted more than just those directly involved. Nevertheless, hundreds of crews made no captures whatsoever. Many vessels undertook a single cruise with a letter of marque and gave it up as unprofitable, others hung in a bit longer, sometimes as a privateer and sometimes as a letter of marque trader. In the end, once the number of potential prizes declined, so did the enthusiasm for privateering.

One of the biggest surprises was how dangerous privateering actually was and how little people seemed to take that into account. Probably because of the risk of any seafaring activity, people were willing to accept shipwreck, storms, disease, accidents, lightning strikes, etc. as simply part of the job at sea. When training accidents, combat, capture and imprisonment were added to the equation, young men were still ready to sign on to a privateer for three to six months at sea. Various ships logs describe men being put in irons for drunkenness, petty theft and other misdemeanours, but there do not seem to be any floggings or cruelty by the captains. In fact one is mentioned as getting into brawls with his own men and sorting them out.

The things that really seemed to upset privateers were bad food, bad language and bad faith. The Harpy’s cook received twelve lashes for really bad pea soup, and the logs record short rations and shorter tempers. The loss of grog rations was the standard punishment for drunkenness or gambling. Profanity was frowned upon, even in the rough and ready life of a privateer. Cheating and stealing in the crowded confines of a privateer were punishable by dismissal and loss of prize shares, a good indication of how important it was to be able to trust a shipmate.

I think the book will appeal to anyone who is interested in sailing and war at sea in the early nineteenth century. There is some legal history, some economic history, some cultural history and some history of technology to explore. Students who think history is dull have never heard of privateers. Suddenly, the seas are full of interesting characters like Joseph Almeida, J.P. Chazal and Thomas Boyle and ships with great names like Black Vomit, Water Witch and Poor Sailor. There are wonderful, very human stories of close calls, fierce fights, amazing bravery, dirty tricks, practical jokes, acts of kindness and murder, all by people who were much the same age as high school and university students (and some as young as 10 or 11). As privateers, they are sailing, manning guns, capturing prizes and fighting for their country. Some are wounded, some fall overboard and are rescued, some are not so lucky. Their adventures are part of a long history of irregular warfare that no longer exists. Figuring out why it worked so well up to the War of 1812 and then ceased to be effective is part of the fun of privateering.