It’s not hard to see that promises have declined in importance over the years. It used to be that is someone gave their word you could safely assume it would be done if at all possible. This was emphasized to me again in reading C. S. Forester’s “Mr. Midshipman Hornblower”. In it a young Lt. Hornblower of His Majesty’s Royal Navy is captured by the Spanish during the Napoleonic Wars and sent to a prison near Ferrol, Spain. After a time he is granted two hours of freedom each day in which he is free to go and do what he wishes, provided he gives his word to return at the end of the time.
At one point, while he is out on one of his daily walks, he witnesses a battle off-shore as a British frigate pursues a Spanish privateer in a fierce gale toward the Spanish shore. The privateer, hoping to escape, takes a serious risk trying to find the very narrow harbor surrounded by treacherous rocks. A single shift of the wind puts the privateer onto the rocks, dismasting the ship and killing many of the crew. By this point many of the locals have turned out to watch, including the prison’s commandant. Lt. Hornblower conceives of a plan to rescue the rest of the crew, but will require the help of some local fishermen. He asks the commandant to be allowed to go and gives his word to return when the job is done. The commandant grants his request.
Hornblower and his volunteer crew succed in rescuing most of the ship’s crew, but are too tired from rowing out to the ship to try and return to shore just then and decide to set a storm anchor and allow the boat to drift until the wind calms or until they’re sufficiently rested. When the sun comes up the next morning they find themselves practically next to the British Frigate and are quickly captured.
Once the British crew determines who he is he goes to the captain and pleads on behalf of his volunteer sailors to be returned to their homes, citing British Naval Law that evidently had rules against taking prisoners of rescue crews, including those of enemy nations. The captain agrees that the Spanish sailors will be returned, and then offers Hornblower a place among his own crew.
With great reluctance and dismay, Hornblower informs the captain that he must go back, too, because he gave his word he would. The frigate captain, aware of the importance of one’s honor, does not argue with him, but simply offers to support him no matter what he decides to do. In the end Hornblower goes back to Spain with the volunteer rescuers and returns to Ferrol prison.
Of course, this being adventure fiction, the Spanish Admiralty are so impressed that hornblower would rescue his enemy’s men at his own great peril, then return to prison in order to keep his word when his escape was all but certain, that they grant him his freedom. The jaded, modern man in me suspects that it would be more realistic had Hornblower rotted in the prison until the war ended. No good deed goes unpunished, after all.
But it’s hard to imagine such an incident playing out in this manner today. For one thing military prisoners have a duty to escape, I believe, but even so, few men today would keep their word under similar circumstances. I’m not sure I would.
People can say what they will about our modern liberation from the restrictive cultural traditions of the past, but I’ll argue in many ways we’ve thrown the baby out with the bathwater. Honesty and integrity are examples. It used to be that lawyers and contracts, if used at all in agreements, were a formality. The real deal was struck when both parties gave their verbal word. Once spoken, neither would seriously consider breaking their promise. Their honor and reputation meant too much to them.
Would that we had managed to retain that today. We have lost far more in our so-called advancement than we are willing to admit, I fear.
“… with a firm reliance on the protection of Divine Providence, we mutually pledge to each other our Lives, our Fortunes, and our sacred Honor.”
Today that would have read, “We pledge our wholehearted support until someone we like tells us it isn’t cool or it becomes, ya know, like really hard, then screw it. But, send us all your money anyway.”
One of the reasons a gentleman’s word was so important was that it was his credit card. If a gentleman promised to pay, he had to pay or no one would trust him with further goods. At least that was the theory, cue half of 19th-century English literature now.