Susannes Folksong-Notizen
[1981:] William Kidd (nicht Robert Kidd, wie oft zu lesen ist)
fuhr mit einem Kaperbrief der englischen Krone. Als der Brief
nicht mehr verlängert wurde, drängten ihn seine Leute, das
einträgliche Geschäft auf keinen Fall aufzugeben. William Kidd
segelte weiter und führte ein abenteuerliches Leben als
vogelfreier Seeräuber [sic!]- bis er mit sechs seiner Leute auf
dem Galgendock in London gehängt wurde. Kurz darauf erschien
sein Lied als warnendes Flugblatt. Wie sehr Captain Kidds Taten
Robert Louis Stevenson beeindruckt haben, weiß jeder
Schatzinsel-Leser.
Vom William-Kidd-Lied sind Fassungen mit mehr als 25 Strophen
bekannt. Was ein richtiger Shantyman war, erfand aus gegebenem
Anlaß auch neue hinzu - oder er spann den Faden in
Rabelaisischer Manier über unwahrscheinlichste Frauenabenteuer
seines Helden fort, so daß Stan Hugill in seiner Sammlung
'Shanties from the seven seas' auf eine Wiedergabe verzichtete.
Daß man die eindrucksvolle Weise auch zum Kirchenlied gemacht
hat, ist verständlich. Aber was bis auf unsere Tage entlang der
Atlantikküste gesungen wird, hält sich an andere Texte.
Das Schicksal William Kidds, geboren 1655 in Greenock in
Schottland als Sohn eines Geistlichen und in Wapping am 23. Mai
1701 gehängt, ist bezeichnend. Nachdem er sich als tüchtiger
Seemann und Kaperer im Auftrag der Kolonialregierung von New York
bewährt hatte, erteilte König William III. seinem
"geliebten Freund William Kidd" den Auftrag, einige
unbequem gewordene Freibeuter aufzubringen, und es war Lord
Bellomont, der ihm die Galeere Adventure ausrüsten und das
Unternehmen finanzieren ließ. Aber dann verschwand Kidd für
drei Jahre, so daß er vom inzwischen ergangenen Generalpardon
selber ausdrücklich ausgenommen wurde. Als er dann plötzlich im
Mai 1699 mit reicher "legaler" Beute in New York
einlief und seinem dort mittlerweile als Gouverneur eingesetzten
Gönner Lord Bellomont die Dokumente seines erfolgreichen
Kaperkrieges übergab, hatte sich das Blatt gewendet. Die
Admiralität brauchte ein abschreckendes Beispiel. Die Dokumente
verschwanden (sie wurden erst 200 Jahre später [wieder]
aufgefunden), und William Kidd wurde wegen Mordes (einen Grund
mußte man schließlich finden) an [seinem] Artilleriechef
William Moore zum Tode verurteilt - obgleich sich der
"gunner" Moore, den Kidd kurzentschlossen mit einer
eisenbereiften Pütz niedergeschlagen hatte, in offener Meuterei
befunden hatte. (Scherf 34ff)
[1962:] Of all the notorious murderers of fact and folklore,
few have acquired as fierce a reputation for cruel and villainous
conduct as Captain William Kidd. A closer look at history,
however, has shown that Kidd's unsavoury reputation is largely
the result of an exceptionally talented ballad-maker's fancy, and
that, if the truth be known, Captain Kidd's conviction and
execution may be a gross miscarriage of justice. Kidd was hung at
Wapping on the shore of the Thames [...], May 23, 1701, following
a trial in which the accused was denied the right of counsel and
the leading witnesses for the Crown were "turncoat"
government informers who thereby saved their own necks. Kidd, a
highly-respected Scottish sea captain, was enlisted as a
commissioned privateer for the Crown in 1696, with specific
instructions to operate against pirates as well as craft of
"unfriendly" nations.
After a number of complex turns of the wheel of politics, Kidd
was publicly proclaimed a "pirate" and arrested in
1700. Specifically, he was charged with murdering a seaman by the
name of William Moore, although Kidd later claimed that the
killing took place as a suppression of mutiny. (Let it be said,
without defending Kidd's actions, that sea captains had a vast
amount of authority in those days, and that it was most unlikely
for a captain to be charged with such a murder unless there was
some other motivation behind it.)
Kidd's trial commenced on May 8, 1701, and barely two weeks later
he was dead. Within hours of Kidd's execution, the stall-ballad
writers were turning out songs on the notorious captain. The most
famous of these, written to a variant of the tune best known
today as Sam Hall, had a repentant Kidd telling his long and gory
story in the first person. A 25-stanza version popular in the
United States early in the 19th century has Kidd confessing to a
host of crimes and to a series of sacrilegious sentiments [...]
The remorseful last verses are in striking contradiction to all
reports of the time which have Captain Kidd protesting his
innocence up until the very moment of death. And even though the
verdict of history is more and more being questioned and new
facts come to light (See "Fair Trial" by Richard B.
Morris, Knopf Publ., NYC), the verdict of folksong seems
irreversible. (Reprint Sing Out 4, 218)
[1963:] An old broadside ballad. There is some doubt as to
whether Kidd was as much a victim of a miscarriage of justice as
his reputation was a victim of the imagination of a talented
ballad writer. But at least, as Pete Seeger says, "the
verdict of folk singers seems irreversible" and Kidd remains
a rascal. (Eric Winter, notes 'Alex Campbell Sings Folk')
[1966:] [Belongs to] the genre of 18th Century songs known as
"Good-night Ballads" in which the exploits of the
condemned, usually felons, were sung to the mob on the three mile
journey from Newgate prison to [the gallows at] Tyburn. Many were
commissioned by prisoners and often great artistic licence was
applied in writing them. In 1701 Captain Kidd was rescued from
the gallows for a time by a crowd whose favour had been aroused
by such a ballad. (Notes The Critics Group, 'A Merry Progress To
London')
[1982:] Tune known as the Admiral Benbow air though it was
already used for a broadside about Captain Kidd's execution in
1701. In 1702 Benbow defeated the French fleet after a four-day
battle in the Caribbean, and the tune was used again for a
broadside about the victory. (Pollard, Folksong 6)
Gallows songs, printed for sale at public executions, were a
popular form of broadside until public hanging was abolished in
the mid nineteenth century. These events attracted great crowds
[...] and provided an eager market for broadside sellers. [...].
There must have been hundreds, perhaps thousands, of gallows
songs telling the stories of murderers, pirates, traitors and
other felons. They fulfilled a similar role to that of today's
more sensational Sunday newspapers, and when more popular
newspapers came on the market from the mid nineteenth century,
gallows songs faded away, though many went on being sung in oral
tradition. Some were noted by the early collectors, who tended to
reject them as 'vulgar'. (Pollard, Folksong 32)
[1995:] Captain Kidd in 1696 sailed 'with a company recruited from the dregs of the waterfront, "men of desperate fortunes and necessities", thirsty for treasure and with few scruples about how they obtained it.' [...]
Pirates could also make useful scapegoats for the bigger crimes committed by companies and national leaders. Historians have pointed to the case of Captain Kidd, a privateer and unsuccessful New York businessman who was hanged, as an illustration of this: 'There is little doubt that Kidd committed a number of outright piracies in the Indian Ocean ... [but] it is equally clear that his trial provided a scapegoat for the establishment figures who had employed him: a full investigation would have exposed both their greed in organising an anti-piracy mission for their own profit, and their incompetence in choosing a commander so unsuited to the task.' (Stanley, Breeches 148/155)
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