Having been two voyages to the West Indies and one to the Brazils, I
began to regard myself as a sailor of no little experience. When rigged
out in my blue jacket and trousers, with a neatly covered straw hat, a
black silk kerchief tied jauntily around my neck, I felt confidence in
my own powers and resources, and was ready, and, as I thought, able to
grapple with any thing in the shape of good or ill fortune that
might come along. I was aware that success in life depended on my own
energies, and I looked forward to a brilliant career in the arduous
calling which I had embraced. Like Ancient Pistol, I could say,
"The world's mine oyster,
Which I with sword will open!"
With this difference, that I proposed to substitute, for the present at
least, a marlinspike for the sword.
Captain Page invited me to remain by the Clarissa and accompany him on
a voyage to Gibraltar, but I felt desirous of trying my fortune and gain
knowledge of my calling in a good ship bound to the East Indies, or on a
fur-trading voyage to the "north-west coast" of America.
At that time the trade with the Indians for furs on the "north-west
coast" was carried on extensively from Boston. The ships took out
tobacco, molasses, blankets, hardware, and trinkets in large quantities.
Proceeding around Cape Horn, they entered the Pacific Ocean, and on
reaching the north-west coast, anchored in some of the bays and harbors
north of Columbia River. They were visited by canoes from the shore, and
traffic commenced. The natives exchanged their furs for articles useful
or ornamental. The ship went from port to port until a cargo of furs
was obtained, and then sailed for Canton, and disposed of them to the
Chinese for silks and teas. After an absence of a couple of years the
ship would return to the United States with a cargo worth a hundred
thousand dollars. Some of the most eminent merchants in Boston, in this
way, laid the foundation of their fortunes.
This trade was not carried on without risk. The north-west coast of
America at that period had not been surveyed; no good charts had been
constructed, and the shores were lined with reefs and sunken rocks,
which, added to a climate where boisterous winds prevailed, rendered the
navigation dangerous.
This traffic was attended with other perils. The Indians were
bloodthirsty and treacherous; and it required constant vigilance on the
part of a ship's company to prevent their carrying into execution some
deep-laid plan to massacre the crew and gain possession of the ship.
For this reason the trading vessels were always well armed and strongly
manned. With such means of defence, and a reasonable share of prudence
on the part of the captain, there was but little danger. But the
captain and officers were not always prudent. Deceived by the smiles and
humility of the natives, they sometimes allowed them to come on board in
large numbers, when, at a signal from their chief, they drew their arms
from beneath their garments and commenced the work of death. After they
had become masters of the ship, they would cut the cables and let her
drift ashore, gaining a valuable prize in the cargo, in the iron and
copper bolts, spikes, and nails with which the timbers and planks were
fastened together, and in the tools, furniture, clothing, and arms. A
number of vessels belonging to New England were in this way cut off by
the savages on the "north-west coast," and unsuccessful attempts were
made on others.
The "ower true tales" of disasters and massacres on the "north-west
coast" seemed to invest a voyage to that quarter with a kind of magic
attraction or fascination as viewed through the medium of a youthful
imagination; and a voyage of this description would give me an
opportunity to perfect myself in much which pertained to the sailor and
navigator.
After a delay of a few weeks the opportunity offered which I so eagerly
sought. The ship Packet was preparing for a voyage from Boston to the
north-west coast via Liverpool, and I succeeded in obtaining a situation
on board that ship before the mast. I hastened to Boston and took up my
temporary abode at a boarding house, kept by Mrs. Lillibridge, a widow,
in Spring Lane, on or near the spot on which the vestry of the Old South
Church now stands. I called immediately on the agents, and obtained
information in relation to the details of the voyage, and commenced
making the necessary preparations.
Several merchants were interested in this contemplated voyage, but the
business was transacted by the mercantile house of Messrs. Ropes and
Pickman, on Central Wharf. This firm had not been long engaged
in business. Indeed, both the partners were young men, but they
subsequently became well known to the community. Benjamin T. Pickman
became interested in politics, and rendered good service in the
legislature. On several occasions he received marks of the confidence of
his fellow-citizens in his ability and integrity. He was elected to
the Senate, and was chosen president of that body. He died in 1835. Mr.
William Ropes, the senior partner of the firm fifty years ago, after
having pursued an honorable mercantile career at home and abroad,
occupies at this time a high position as an enterprising and successful
merchant and a public-spirited citizen.
I laid in a good stock of clothes, such as were needed on a voyage to
that inclement part of the world, provided myself with various comforts
for a long voyage, and purchased as large an assortment of books as
my limited funds would allow, not forgetting writing materials, blank
journals, and every thing requisite for obtaining a good practical
knowledge of navigation, and of other subjects useful to a shipmaster.
The Packet was a beautiful ship, of about three hundred tons burden,
originally intended as a regular trader between Boston and Liverpool;
but in consequence of her superior qualities was purchased on the
termination of her first voyage for this expedition to the north-west
coast. She was to be commanded by Daniel C. Bacon, a young, active, and
highly intelligent shipmaster, who a few years before had sailed as a
mate with Captain William Sturgis, and had thus studied the principles
of his profession in a good school, and under a good teacher. He had
made one successful voyage to that remote quarter in command of a ship.
Captain Bacon, as is known to many of my readers, subsequently engaged
in mercantile business in Boston, and for many years, until his death,
not long since, his name was the synonyme of mercantile enterprise,
honor, and integrity.
The name of the chief mate was Stetson. He was a tall, bony, muscular
man, about forty years old. He had been bred to the sea, and had served
in every capacity. He was a thorough sailor, and strict disciplinarian;
fearless and arbitrary, he had but little sympathy with the crew; his
main object being to get the greatest quantity of work in the shortest
possible time. Stories were afloat that he was unfeeling and tyrannical;
that fighting and flogging were too frequent to be agreeable in ships
where he was vested with authority. There were even vague rumors in
circulation that he indulged occasionally in the unique and exciting
amusement of shooting at men on the yards when engaged in reefing
topsails. These rumors, however, although they invested the aspect
and conduct of the mate with a singular degree of interest, were not
confirmed. For my own part, although a little startled at the notoriety
which Mr. Stetson had achieved, I determined to execute my duties
promptly and faithfully so far as was in my power, to be respectful
and obedient to my superiors and trustworthy in every act, and let the
future take care of itself. Indeed, this is the line of conduct I have
endeavored to follow in every situation I have filled in the course
of an eventful life, and I can earnestly recommend it to my youthful
readers as eminently calculated to contribute to their present comfort
and insure their permanent prosperity.
In a few days the Packet received her cargo, consisting chiefly of
tobacco and molasses. It was arranged that she should take on board,
in Liverpool, bales of blankets and coarse woollen goods, and boxes
containing various articles of hardware and trinkets, such as would be
acceptable to the savages on the coast. The ship was hauled into the
stream, and being a fine model, freshly painted, with royal yards
athwart, and colors flying, and signal guns being fired night and
morning, attracted much notice and was the admiration of sailors. I was
proud of my good fortune in obtaining a chance before the mast, in such
a vessel, bound on such a voyage.
The crew was numerous for a ship of three hundred tons, consisting of
eight able seamen, exclusive of the boatswain, and four boys. Besides a
cook and steward we had a captain's clerk, an armorer, a carpenter, and
a tailor. The ship's complement, all told, consisting of twenty-two.
For an armament we carried four handsome carriage guns, besides boarding
pikes, cutlasses, and muskets in abundance. We had also many coils of
rattling stuff, small rope for making boarding nettings, and a good
supply of gunpowder was deposited in the magazine.
The sailors came on board, or were brought on board by their landlords,
after we had hauled from the wharf. Some of them were sober and well
behaved, others were stupid or crazy from intoxication. It required
energy and decision to establish order and institute strict rules of
discipline among such a miscellaneous collection of web-footed gentry.
But Mr. Stetson, assisted by Mr. Bachelder, the second mate, was equal
to the task. Indeed he was in his element while directing the labors of
the men, blackguarding this one for his stupidity, anathematizing that
one for his indolence, and shaking his fist at another, and menacing him
with rough treatment for his short answers and sulky looks.
One of the seamen who had been brought on board nearly dead drunk,
showed his figure-head above the forescuttle on the following morning.
His eyes, preternaturally brilliant, were bloodshot, his cheeks were
pale and haggard, his long black hair was matted, and he seemed a
personification of desperation and despondency. Stetson caught a
glimpse of his features; even his fossilized heart was touched with his
appearance and he drove him below.
"Down with you!" said he, shaking his brawny fist in the drunken man's
face, "don't let me see your ugly phiz again for the next twenty-four
hours. The sight of it is enough to frighten a land-lubber into
hysterics, and conjure up a hurricane in the harbor before we can let
go the sheet anchor. Down with you; vanish! Tumble into your berth! Take
another long and strong nap, and then turn out a fresh man, and show
yourself a sailor; or you'll rue the day when you first tasted salt
water!"
The rueful visage disappeared, unable to withstand such a broadside,
and its owner subsequently proved to be a first-rate seaman, and was an
especial favorite with Stetson.
A circumstance occurred while the ship was in the stream, where she lay
at anchor two or three days, which will convey a correct ides of the
character of the mate. One afternoon, while all hands were busily
employed in heaving in the slack of the cable, a boat, pulled by two
stout, able-bodied men, came alongside. One of the men came on board,
and addressing the mate, said he had a letter which he wished to send to
Liverpool. The mate looked hard at the man, and replied in a gruff and
surly tone, "We can't receive any letters here. The letter bag is at
Ropes and Pickman's counting room, and you must leave your letter there
if you want it to go to Liverpool in this ship."
"Never mind," exclaimed the stranger, "I am acquainted with one of the
crew, and I will hand it to him."
Regardless of Stetson's threats of vengeance provided he gave the letter
into the hands of any one on board, the man stepped forward to the
windlass, and handed the missive to one of the sailors.
At this contempt of his authority Stetson's indignation knew no bounds.
He roared, in a voice hoarse with passion, "Lay hold of that scoundrel,
Mr. Bachelder. Seize the villain by the throat. I'll teach im better
than to cut his shines in a ship while I have charge of the deck. I'll
seize him up to the mizzen shrouds, make a spread eagle of him, give him
a cool dozen, and see how he will like that."
The stranger, witnessing the mate's excitement, and hearing his violent
language, seemed suddenly conscious that he had been guilty of a
terrible crime, for which he was liable to be punished without trial
or jury. He made a spring over the gunwale, and eluded the grasp of Mr.
Bachelder, who followed him into the main chain-wales, and grabbed one
of his coat tails just as he was slipping into his boat!
He struggled hard to get away, and his companion raised an oar and
endeavored to strike the second mate with that ponderous club. The
garment by which the stranger was detained, fortunately for him, was not
made of such firm and solid materials as the doublet of Baillie Jarvie
when he accompanied the Southrons in their invasion of the Highland
fastnesses of Rob Roy. The texture, unable to bear the heavy strain,
gave way; the man slid from the chain-wale into the boat, which was
quickly shoved off, and the two terrified landsmen pulled away from the
inhospitable ship with almost superhuman vigor, leaving the coat-tail in
the hands of the second officer, who waved it as a trophy of victory!
Meanwhile Stetson was foaming at the mouth and raving like a madman. He
ordered the steward to bring up his pistols to shoot the rascals, and
when it seemed likely the offenders would escape, he called upon me, and
another boy, by name, and in language neither courteous nor refined told
us to haul the ship's yawl alongside and be lively about it. I instantly
entered the boat from the taffrail by means of the painter; and in half
a minute the boat was at the gangway, MANNED by a couple of BOYS, and
Stetson rushed down the accommodation ladder, with a stout hickory stick
in his hand, and without seating himself, seized the tiller, and with a
tremendous oath, ordered us to shove off.
Away we went in full chase after the swiftly-receding boat, my young
shipmate and myself bending our backs to the work with all the strength
and skill of which we were master, while Stetson stood erect in the
stern seats, at one time shaking his stick at the affrighted men, and
hurling at their heads volleys of curses both loud and deep, at another,
urging and encouraging us to pull harder, or cursing us in turn because
we did not gain on the chase. The fugitives were dreadfully alarmed.
They pulled for their lives; and the terror stamped on their visages
would have been ludicrous, had we not known that if we came up with the
chase a contest would take place that might be attended with serious,
perhaps fatal, results.
The shore boat had a good start, which gave it an unfair advantage, and
being propelled by two vigorous MEN, obeying an instinctive impulse to
escape from an impending danger, kept about the same distance ahead.
They steered for Long Wharf the nearest route to TERRA FIRMA passed the
steps on the north side, and pulled alongside a schooner which was lying
near the T, clambered to her decks, leaving the boat to her fate, nimbly
leaped ashore, took to their heels, and commenced a race up the wharf as
if the avenger of blood was upon their tracks!
Stetson steered the boat directly for the steps, up which he hastily
ascended, and ordered me to follow. As we rounded the corner of the
adjoining store, we beheld the fugitives leaving us at a pace which no
sailor could expect to equal. The man who had particularly excited the
wrath of the mate took the lead, and cut a conspicuous figure with his
single coat-tail sticking out behind him horizontally like the leg of a
loon!
The mate, seeing the hopelessness of further pursuit, suddenly stopped,
and contented himself with shaking his cudgel at the runaways, and
muttering between his teeth, "Run, you blackguards, run!"
And run they did, until they turned down India Street, and were lost to
sight.
In a day or two after the occurrence above described, the ship Packet
started on her voyage to Liverpool. She was a noble ship, well found and
furnished in every respect, and, setting aside the uncertain temper and
eccentricities of the chief mate, well officered and manned.
When we passed Boston light house with a fresh northerly breeze, one
clear and cold morning towards the close of November, in the year 1811,
bound on a voyage of several years' duration, I experienced no regret at
leaving my home and native land, and had no misgiving in regard to
the future. My spirits rose as the majestic dome of the State House
diminished in the distance; my heart bounded with hope as we entered
the waters of Massachusetts Bay. I felt that the path I was destined
to travel, although perhaps a rugged one, would be a straight and
successful one, and if not entirely free from thorns, would be liberally
sprinkled with flowers.
It is wisely ordered by a benignant Providence that man, notwithstanding
his eager desire to know the secrets of futurity, can never penetrate
those mysteries. In some cases, could he know the changes which would
take place in his condition, the misfortunes he would experience, the
miseries he would undergo, in the lapse of only a few short years, or
perhaps months, he would shrink like a coward from the conflict, and
yield himself up to despair.
I could not long indulge in vagaries of the imagination. In a few hours
the wind hauled into the north-east, and a short head sea rendered the
ship exceedingly uneasy. While busily employed in various duties I felt
an uncomfortable sensation pervading every part of my system. My head
grew dizzy and my limbs grew weak; I found, to my utter confusion, that
I WAS SEASICK! I had hardly made the humiliating discovery, when the
boatswain hoarsely issued the unwelcome order, "Lay aloft, lads, and
send down the royal yards and masts!"
My pride would not allow me to shrink from my duty, and especially a
duty like this, which belonged to light hands. And while I heartily
wished the masts and yards, which added so much to the beauty of the
ship, and of which I was so proud in port, fifty fathoms beneath the
keelson, I hastened with my wonted alacrity aloft, and commenced the
work of sending down the main-royal yard.
Seasickness is an unwelcome malady at best. It not only deprives a
person of all buoyancy of spirit, but plunges him headlong into the gulf
of despondency. His only desire is to remain quiet; to stir neither limb
nor muscle; to lounge or lie down and muse on his unhappy destiny. If
he is urged by a sense of duty to arouse himself from this stupor, and
occupy himself with labors and cares while weighed down by the heavy
load, his condition, although it may command little sympathy from his
companions, is truly pitiable.
In my particular case, feeling compelled to mount aloft, and attain that
"bad eminence," the main-royal mast head, while the slender spar was
whipping backwards and forwards with every plunge of the ship into
a heavy head sea, and the visible effect produced by every vibration
causing me to fear an inverted position of my whole internal system, no
one can imagine the extent of my sufferings. They were of a nature
that Dante would eagerly have pounced upon to add to the horrors of his
Inferno. I felt at times willing to quit my feeble hold of a backstay or
shroud, and seek repose by diving into the briny billows beneath. If I
had paused for a moment in my work I should, undoubtedly, have failed in
its accomplishment. But Stetson's eye was upon me; his voice was heard
at times calling out "Main-royal mast head, there! Bear a hand, and send
down that mast! Why don't you bear a hand!"
To this reminder, making a desperate exertion, I promptly replied, in a
spirited tone, "Ay, ay, sir!"
Diligence was the watchword, and it acted as my preserver.
It often happens that a crew, composed wholly or in part of old sailors,
will make an experiment on the temper and character of the officers at
the commencement of the voyage. When this is the case, the first night
after leaving port will decide the question whether the officers or
the men will have command of the ship. If the officers are not firm and
peremptory; if they are deficient in nerve, and fail to rebuke, in
a prompt and decided manner, aught bordering on insolence or
insubordination in the outset, farewell to discipline, to good order and
harmony, for the remainder of the passage.
Captain Bacon was a man of slight figure, gentlemanly exterior, and
pleasant countenance. Although his appearance commanded respect, it was
not calculated to inspire awe; and few would have supposed that beneath
his quiet physiognomy and benevolent cast of features were concealed
a fund of energy and determination of character which could carry him
safely through difficulty and danger.
Mr. Bachelder, the second mate, was a young man of intelligence,
familiar with his duties, and blessed with kind and generous feelings.
Unlike Stetson, he was neither a blackguard nor a bully. After some
little consultation among the old sailors who composed the starboard
watch, it was thought advisable to begin with him, and ascertain if
there was any GRIT in his composition.
It was about six bells eleven o'clock at night when the wind hauling to
the north-west, Mr. Bachelder called out, "Forward there! Lay aft and
take a pull of the weather braces."
One of the men, a smart active fellow, who went by the name of Jack
Robinson, and had been an unsuccessful candidate for the office of
boatswain, replied in a loud and distinct tone, "Ay, ay!"
This was agreed on as the test. I knew the crisis had come, and awaited
with painful anxiety the result.
Mr. Bachelder rushed forward into the midst of the group near the end of
the windlass.
"Who said, 'Ay, ay'?" he inquired, in an angry tone.
"I did," replied Robinson.
"YOU did! Don't you know how to reply to an officer in a proper manner?"
"How SHOULD I reply?" said Robinson, doggedly.
"Say 'Ay, ay, SIR,' when you reply to me," cried Bachelder, in a tone
of thunder at the same time seizing him by the collar and giving him a
shake "and," continued he, "don't undertake to cut any of your shines
here, my lad! If you do, you will be glad to die the death of a
miserable dog. Lay aft, men, and round in the weather braces!"
"Ay, ay, sir! Ay, ay, sir!" was the respectful response from every side.
The yards were trimmed to the breeze, and when the watch gathered again
on the forecastle it was unanimously voted that IT WOULD NOT DO!
Notwithstanding the decided result of the experiment with the second
mate, one of the men belonging to the larboard watch, named Allen,
determined to try conclusions with the captain and chief mate, and
ascertain how far they would allow the strict rules of discipline
on shipboard to be infringed. Allen was a powerful fellow, of huge
proportions, and tolerably good features, which, however, were
overshadowed by a truculent expression. Although of a daring
disposition, and unused to subordination, having served for several
years in ships engaged in the African slave trade, the nursery of
pirates and desperadoes, he showed but little wisdom in trying the
patience of Stetson.
On the second night after leaving port, the ship being under
double-reefed topsails, the watch was summoned aft to execute some duty.
The captain was on deck, and casually remarked to the mate, "It blows
hard, Mr. Stetson; we may have a regular gale before morning!"
Allen at that moment was passing along to WINDWARD of the captain and
mate. He stopped, and before Stetson could reply, said in a tone of
insolent familiarity, "Yes, it blows hard, and will blow harder yet!
Well, who cares? Let it blow and be ______!"
Captain Bacon seemed utterly astonished at the impudence of the man; but
Stetson, who was equally prompt and energetic on all occasions, and who
divined the object that Allen had in view, in lieu of a civil rejoinder
dealt him a blow on the left temple, which sent him with violence
against the bulwarks. Allen recovered himself, however, and sprang on
the mate like a tiger, clasped him in his sinewy embrace, and called
upon his watchmates for assistance.
As Stetson and Allen were both powerful men it is uncertain what would
have been the result had Stetson fought the battle single-handed. The
men looked on, waiting the result, but without daring to interfere. Not
so the captain. When he saw Allen attack the mate, he seized a belaying
pin, that was loose in the fife-rail, and watching his opportunity, gave
the refractory sailor two or three smart raps over the head and face,
which embarrassed him amazingly, caused him to release his grasp on the
mate, and felled him to the deck!
The mate then took a stout rope's end and threshed him until he roared
for mercy. The fellow was terribly punished and staggered forward,
followed by a volley of threats and anathemas.
But the matter did not end here. At twelve o'clock Allen went below, and
was loud in his complaints of the barbarous manner in which he had been
treated. He swore revenge, and said he would lay a plan to get the mate
into the forecastle, and then square all accounts. Robinson and another
of the starboard watch, having no idea that Stetson could be enticed
below, approved of the suggestion, and intimated that they would lend
him a hand if necessary. They did not KNOW Stetson!
When the watch was called at four o'clock Allen did not make his
appearance. In about half an hour the voice of Stetson was heard at the
forescuttle ordering him on deck.
"Ay, ay, sir," said Allen, "I am coming directly."
"You had better do so," said the mate, "if you know when you are well
off."
"Ay, ay, sir!"
Allen was sitting on a chest, dressed, but did not move. I was lying
in my berth attentive to the proceedings, as, I believe were all my
watchmates. In about a quarter of an hour Stetson took another look down
the scuttle, and bellowed out, "Allen, are you coming on deck or not?"
"Ay, ay, sir; directly!"
"If I have to go down after you, my good fellow, it will be worse for
you, that's all."
Allen remained sitting on the chest. Day began to break. Stetson was
again heard at the entrance of the forecastle. His patience, of which he
had not a large stock, was exhausted.
"Come on deck, this instant, you lazy, lounging, big-shouldered
renegade! Will you let other people do your work? Show your broken head
and your lovely battered features on deck at once in the twinkling of a
handspike. I want to see how you look after your frolic!"
"Ay, ay, sir! I'm coming right up."
"You lie, you rascal. You don't mean to come! But I'll soon settle the
question whether you are to have your way in this ship or I am to have
mine!"
Saying this, Stetson descended the steps which led into the habitation
of the sailors. In doing this, under the peculiar circumstances, he gave
a striking proof of his fearless character. He had reason to anticipate
a desperate resistance from Allen, while some of the sailors might also
be ready to take part with their shipmate, if they saw him overmatched;
and in that dark and close apartment, where no features could be
clearly distinguished, he would be likely to receive exceedingly rough
treatment.
Stetson, however, was a man who seldom calculated consequences in cases
of this kind. He may have been armed, but he made no display of other
weapons than his brawny fist. He seized Allen by the collar with a
vigorous grasp. "You scoundrel," said he, "what do you mean by this
conduct? Go on deck and attend to your duty! On deck, I say! Up with
you, at once!"
Allen at first held back, hoping that some of his shipmates would come
to his aid, as they partly promised; but not a man stirred, greatly to
his disappointment and disgust. They, doubtless, felt it might be unsafe
to engage in the quarrels of others; and Allen, after receiving a few
gentle reminders from the mate in the shape of clips on the side of his
head and punches among the short ribs, preceded the mate on deck. He was
conquered.
The weather was cold and cheerless; the wind was blowing heavy; the rain
was falling fast; and Allen, who had few clothes, was thinly clad; but
he was sent aloft in an exposed situation, and kept there through the
greater part of the day. His battered head, his cut face, his swollen
features, and his gory locks told the tale of his punishment. Stetson
had no magnanimity in his composition. He cherished a grudge against
that man to the end of the passage, and lost no opportunity to indulge
his hatred and vindictiveness.
"Never mind," said Allen, one day, when sent on some useless mission in
the vicinity of the knight-heads, while the ship was plunging violently,
and sending cataracts of salt water over the bowsprit at every dive;
"never mind, it will be only for a single passage."
"I know that," said Stetson, with an oath; "and I will take good care to
'work you up' well during the passage." And he was as good as his word.
The mate of a ship, especially when the captain is inactive, is not
properly acquainted with his duties, or is disposed to let him pursue
his own course, is vested with great authority. He has it in his
power to contribute to the comfort of the men, and establish that good
understanding between the cabin and the forecastle which should ever
reign in a merchant ship. But it sometimes, unfortunately, happens that
the officers of a ship are men of amazingly little souls; deficient in
manliness of character, illiberal in their sentiments, and jealous of
their authority; and although but little deserving the respect of good
men, are rigorous in exacting it. Such men are easily offended, take
umbrage at trifles, and are unforgiving in their resentments. While they
have power to annoy or punish an individual from whom they have received
real or fancied injuries, they do not hesitate to exercise it.
Every seafaring man, of large experience, has often witnessed the
unpleasant consequences of these old grudges, of this system of
punishing a ship's company, by petty annoyances and unceasing hard work
for some trifling misconduct on the part of one or more of the crew
during the early part of the voyage. A master of a ship must be
aware that the interest of all parties will be promoted by harmony on
shipboard, which encourages the sailors to perform faithfully their
manifold duties. Therefore, a good shipmaster will not only be firm, and
decided, and just, and gentlemanly himself towards his crew, but he will
promptly interfere to prevent unjust and tyrannical conduct on the
part of his officers, when they are inexperienced or of a vindictive
disposition.
When a man is insolent or insubordinate, the punishment or rebuke, if
any is intended, SHOULD BE PROMPTLY ADMINISTERED. The account against
him should not be entered on the books, but balanced on the spot.
Whatever is his due should be paid off to the last stiver, and there the
matter should end, never to be again agitated, or even referred to. This
system of petty tyranny, this "working up" of a whole ship's company,
or a single individual, in order to gratify a vindictive and unforgiving
spirit, has been the cause of a deal of trouble and unhappiness, and has
furnished materials in abundance for "men learned in the law."
Sailors are not stocks and stones. Few of them are so low and degraded
as not to be able to distinguish the right from the wrong. They are
aware of the importance of discipline, and know they must submit to its
restraints, and render prompt obedience to orders from their superiors,
without question; yet few of them are so deeply imbued with the meek
spirit of Christianity as to forego remonstrance to injustice or
resistance to tyranny.
The Packet proved to be a fast-sailing ship. The log often indicated
ten, eleven, and eleven and a half knots. We had a quick but rough
passage across the Atlantic, and frequently took on board a much larger
quantity of salt water than was agreeable to those who had berths in
her bows. In four days after leaving Boston we reached the Banks of
Newfoundland; in eighteen days, we struck soundings off Cape Clear; and
in twenty-one days, let go our anchor in the River Mersey.