#practice essays

I would argue that the importance and arc of Charles Vane’s role as a martyr for the cause has it’s roots, not in his actual death in 3x09, but at Flint’s trial in 2x10. 

Flint’s trial is when we see the beginning of Charles Vane the Freedom Fighter, when he piggy backs off of Flint’s earlier statement:

I regret ever coming to this place with the assumption that reconciliation could be found, that reason could be a bridge between us. Everyone is a monster to someone. Since you are so convinced that I am yours, I will be it.

(2x10)

But Vane argues something different. He draws a line between the people and their rulers:

These men convinced you that they speak for you. The power you’ve given them is used in your interests. That the prisoner before you is your enemy, and they your friends. For those of you who live to see tomorrow, know that you had a choice to see the truth and you let yourselves be convinced otherwise. 

(2x10)

He states that the rulers are the enemy of the people. They are the ones who have stolen and manipulated and become corrupt. That they are the ones who are the villains. But they could only do this because the people gave them the power to do so. 

And in this moment, we see the birth of Charles Vane the Freedom Fighter. A act that ultimately culminates in Vane’s own death scene, where he takes what he comments on here, the power of the people, and propels it into action.

This is foreshadowed by his conversation with the pastor, when the Pastor asks if he would like to repent or confess anything before the Lord and Vane refuses. But more than that, he is the opposite of everything the Pastor says he will be. He isn’t frightened, or overwhelmed. He is calm and clear headed, and we see this in their conversation:

“In this moment, you have the opportunity to enter into that moment with a clear conscious. I can help you do that. To repent.”

“I have nothing to repent for, with you.”

[...]

Whatever remorse I do or do not have is my own. That I choose not to share it with you, says more about you than it does me.”

“Me? I am a shepherd. Sent to help you find a path to God’s forgiveness.”

“A shepherd? You are the sheep.”

(3x09)

It is telling, because it becomes clear that Vane has no regrets about what he has done. He knows that he is going to die, yet he is completely calm. He absolutely solid in his beliefs and knows he is doing the right thing. His voice remains steady, and his body is still as he is driven to the gallows. The sounds of the crows screaming and jeering are muffled, almost mute, then we have the speech given my the crier:

When our Lord Governor arrived here, he promised you things. Order, prosperity. [...] Men who are not men at all, but beasts governed by base instinct, incapable of anything but the most primal behaviors. A constant threat to every decent, God-fearing citizen among us. As long as those men roam free, strife will endure, fear will abound, and progress will elude us. Today marks the silencing of the most disruptive of those voices, and a step toward the return of civilization in Nassau. But we must always remember, however strong the need for the removal of these traitors, these relics of a more savage age, there is no relish in this moment. But there is righteousness. [...] And that God’s Will will be done again in Nassau!

All this is is a whole bunch of pathos, really. The Governor has given good things, “order and prosperity”, to the good people, “the decent and God-fearing citizens”. He then uses strong, animalistic language to describe the pirates and Vane. He paints them as good and bad and no in between.

But this is the exact opposite of what we see from the pirates.

Billy has organized a solid, sensible plan to rescue Vane that relies on language and not violence. No one is going to get hurt, no one is going to die. Vane is calm and composed in the face of the crowds frenzy. He is quiet, waiting for his chance to speak.

And when he catches Billy’s eye, he shakes his head. He does so calmly, and Billy stops. And as the noose goes around Vane’s head he realizes that Vane wants to die. So he calls off his men. 

And Vane stands there, head up and shoulders relaxed. And he speaks:

These men who brought me here today, didn’t do it because they fear me. They brought me here because they fear you.

And the crows goes silent. He doesn’t raise his voice, doesn’t shout or scream. He simply speaks. And they are so surprised by his statement that they are struck quiet. Because he isn’t making this about himself. He is making it about them. He is handing the power and punishment back to them, saying this is yours.

Because they know my voice, a voice that refuses to be enslaved, once lived in you. And may yet still.

He is reminding them that they are on the same side. That he is one of them, and that he knows they still feel the way he does. That that fight is still in them.

They brought me here today to show you death, and use it to frighten you into ignoring that voice.

He is telling them, reminding them, that they are being controlled by the Governor and his men, because they are frightened of the people. And Vane reminds the people why:

But know this: we are many, they are few. To fear death is a choice. And they can’t hang us all.

He reminds them of the power of the people, how they hold all the power, and there isn’t anything the government can do about that. But then he proves it! 

He turns to the hangman, says get on with it motherfucker, and then walks off the edge of the cart of his own volition. And when he does this, when he hangs himself, when he looks Eleanor and the officials in the eye as he does it?

He takes all the power away from the Governor’s men. 

He chooses to die. It’s an active choice, and the crowd sees that. He walks off the cart, he shakes his head at Billy, he makes his peace with his decisions. He doesn’t tremble or cower before the crowd or the soldiers. He doesn’t plead or beg or make it about him. He doesn’t fight back. He takes control of his end. He uses it to make a final statement to the people, reminding them of their power. 

And what do the people do?

They don’t make a sound. They don’t cheer or holler or celebrate. They don’t throw rotten food at him. They look horrified and upset. They turn away from his swinging body. They cry. They shake their heads. They look towards the soldiers and officials and there is bitterness and disquiet in their eyes. 

And just like that, the resistance in Nassau is now underway.

Because that’s what it was all about, that’s what Billy sees when he says, look at them. The power of the people. The power of the people to control their government and to control themselves. That’s what Vane was counting on, what Thomas Hamilton was counting on, what Flint was counting on. What Nassau is ultimately a symbol of.