Allow me to describe a day's life as a sample of the mode of existence

among the foreign residents. In the morning one is awakened by a

servant entering the room with a cup of tea; looking out upon the

verandah, another servant may be seen engaged in cleaning the shoes.

He plucks a flower from a plant close at hand, rubs it over the

shoe and then applies the polishing brush, with brilliant effect.

This is called the shoe-plant; and nature makes another appropriate

arrangement in producing the soap tree, with the fruit of which the

hands may be cleansed. Seizing the towels, one next proceeds, in his

sleeping costume, across the court yard to the bath house; this is a

room paved with tiles, containing a large tank of water. The mode of

bathing is that practised by the natives. Standing alongside the tank

the person dips out water in a small bucket and pours it on the head.

This becomes a very favorite method of performing ablution. Returning

to the room, the sleeping costume is laid aside for the habiliments of

the day; but it demands a description, for few things are more peculiar

or essential to a comfortable life in the East. It consists of loose

trousers, called pajamas, and a jacket, called bajou. The pajamas are

made of colored calico, the more brilliant in color and startling in

pattern the better. They are gathered about the waist with a string.

The bajou is of white calico, buttons closely about the throat and

reaches to the hips. This dress is worn not only at night, but whenever

in the day one is free from business or society. The first morning I

spent in Java I encountered a lady robed in white. I averted my eyes,

but saw another lady approaching, and then another; and finding them

unconcerned, I gained assurance enough to inspect their costume. I

learned that in the Dutch settlements in the East Indies ladies adopt

a dress corresponding somewhat to that of the native women, which they

wear during the heat of the day, and only appear in European costume

in the evening. This dress consists of the "sarong," or loose skirt

of colored calico reaching to the ankles, and the "cobaiya," a white

sack descending to the knees. Sandals are worn, but no stockings. The

first impression upon the masculine beholder is not pleasant. It seems

a decidedly slipshod attire; but we soon become accustomed to it, and

admire, at least, the good sense that leads to the consideration of

comfort, rather than fashionable appearance.

After the bath the gentleman dresses for the day, either all in white

or with a loose black sack coat. Breakfast is served, consisting of

broiled fowl, eggs, fruits, &c., and at about ten o'clock the carriage

takes him to his office. Between twelve and one a lunch is served on

the business premises, the chief item of which is curry. This demands

description. We have all seen bottled curry powder, but what is used

on the spot is made fresh every day. The ingredients are ground upon a

stone and mixed together. The meat of a cocoanut is grated, moistened

with water and squeezed by the hand over the curry powder. Into this,

prawns, or bits of fowl or meat, are placed and the dish is ready. Rice

is first taken upon the plate and curry is added. A tray is handed

containing a dozen little plates, each holding some kind of peppers,

pickles, spices or chutney, and one is supposed to take a little of

each, or else to make a judicious selection. A dried fish, called a

Bombay duck, is broken up over the pile and more meat or fowl may be

added, or else some fricadel, a delightful compound of bread, eggs

and minced fowl. Finally all is thoroughly mixed together and eaten

with the aid of a spoon or fork. This tastes better than it, probably,

sounds to the reader's ears, and there is no recollection of the East

more suggestive and fascinating to a former resident than the curry. It

seems strange, however, that in such warm climates nature should crave

such heating and stimulating food.

If it is not steamer-day, the gentleman will probably drive home at

about four o'clock; the pajamas and bajou are donned, a book or short

nap occupy an hour; another bath is taken, and the evening dress is

assumed, which usually will be of white, with a short jacket, such as

is worn by waiters in our hotels. A walk or drive is taken in the cool

of the evening, ladies and gentlemen appearing without headdress or

hats; or if hats are worn, they are light articles, made of cork or

pith, with good ventilation. They meet where the band may be playing,

or drive along the charming suburbs, or saunter to the club-house.

Between seven and eight they sit down to dinner, and get up at some

indefinite period between nine and day-light. The men smoke their

cigars between the courses, drink liquors throughout the meal, and

afterwards take a night-cap of brandy and water. They retire finally to

beds covered with rattan mats, and devoid of bedclothes. A lamp remains

lighted all night in the room, and consists of a glass tumbler half

full of water, with cocoanut oil poured in, and a small wick floated on

top in the centre. This is the lamp of the East.

The houses of the foreign residents are one-story structures, raised a

few feet from the ground, built of brick or stone, covered with plaster

and whitewashed. A broad flight of steps leads to a wide verandah,

which is supplied with furniture, especially easy chairs of luxurious

model, and this place is the sitting-room and reception hall of the

family. Within are parlor and bedrooms, and at the back of the house

is another verandah, generally used as a dining-room. One who takes

an evening's walk, and as he passes each house, looks through the

dark foliage at the brilliantly lighted verandah, with its family and

social groups, will get a series of most enchanting tableaux. When the

residents wish to be "not at home," they darken the front verandah and

get further into their houses, so callers are spared useless inquiries.

In the rear of the house, the servants' lodgings, kitchen and

bath-house are placed. The kitchens are a novelty. A raised platform

runs the length of the building, and on top of it, or in arches near

the top, several fires are built as needed, one for each dish to be

prepared. There is no chimney; the smoke not absorbed by the food,

escapes through the doors. The servants are numerous, and each has his

separate sphere. There is no "maid of all work" in the East. Every

person has his "boy," who hovers about him in all his waking hours, and

cares for him much as a nurse for a child. The boy is called for every

trivial service, and I have heard the master shout repeatedly for the

"suppada," as servants are called, and when he came running breathless

from the rear of the house, he was ordered to move a chair that stood a

few yards off, in order that the luxurious master could put his feet on

it.

The vegetation of the East impresses the traveller with its luxuriant

growth and beauty of form and color. There is no "Fall;" all is

evergreen. The cocoanut trees abound, perhaps, most commonly. The form

of its straight stem, with branches spreading from the top, and the

fruit nestling at the summit, are familiar to all. It is interesting

to see the natives climb these tall trunks to gather the cocoanuts.

Sometimes they ascend by stepping upon notches cut in the tree, and at

others they put a loop of rope around both ankles, and seize another

loop with both hands, their arms encircling the tree; then alternately

grasping the trunk with feet and hands they ascend swiftly, and soon

the thump of the nuts on the ground is heard. Picking up a green one,

and cutting a hole, you may obtain a delicious drink of sweet water.

The "flame tree" attracts especial notice in Batavia. Its lower leaves

are of a dark green, and grow gradually lighter until at the top they

are straw-colored, forming a pyramid of light. Outside the limits

of the town one comes to the jungle, which may thus be described,

partly in another's words: Imagine a forest of gigantic trees standing

together almost like the stalks in a wheat field. They are smooth

and branchless for four-fifths of their height, and then spreading

out, interlacing, form a complete canopy. Then a growth of shorter

trees springs up, winding their branches in and out among the trunks;

then comes a growth of ferns, palms and plants, and finally, the

whole mass is woven together by a network of creepers and parasites,

from the slender rattan to the vine as thick as a man's body. In the

elbows of the trees are many orchidaceous plants thriving on the air

and sending down their shoots into the network below. This jungle is

absolutely impenetrable by man, but the tiger roams through it, and

lurks on its border for the unwary passer-by. Beyond the jungle may be

seen the "Paddy-fields," the light green color of the growing rice,

pleasing the eye in contrast with the copper-colored beeches and the

purple mountains beyond the plain. The graceful bamboo waves in every

direction, and gains respect as being the most useful growth of the

East, though botanists term it only a grass. Its uses are innumerable;

but two extremes may be mentioned. With it the natives build their

houses and beat their children. The tropical fruits require a word of

mention. There is the durian, the favorite of the natives, smelling,

it is said, like a dead elephant, and tasting, to my palate, like a

mixture of nuts and onions. The mangosteen, the choicest of fruits; the

delicious mango, the pummalow, rambutan, ducoe, and banana,--all awaken

pleasant memories as the favorites of the table.

The natives are short, homely and copper-colored, or, as they like

to describe themselves, "the color of gold." The men dress in jacket

and pants, with the sarong wrapped about the waist, or hung loosely

from the shoulders. The women wear the sarong and cobaiya previously

described, and their general appearance so much resembles that of men,

that it is sometimes difficult for an impartial eye to distinguish

the sexes. The teeth are filed and stained black from chewing the

betel nut, as it is deemed unbecoming to have "white teeth like a

dog." The houses are of bamboo, covered with a thatched roof, and

mounted on posts, and the front-door steps consist of a ladder. The

food is chiefly rice; but if report is true many revolting creatures

are devoured, and worms and white ants are occasionally taken "as a

relish." The buffalo is a member of society that deserves notice. A

hump on his back serves to hold the yoke, and he is driven by a string

tied to a ring of rattan passed through the nose. After work they

delight to stand in the river or canal, and with only their heads above

water, enjoy a cooling off. The Dutch Government requires every native,

who walks after dark, to carry a torch. This is composed of stems from

the cocoanut tree, and is fanned into flame as the holder hears an

approaching footstep. They vie with the fireflies in making the night

attractive.

Many customs are striking to the visitor. The woman walks in front of

the man, so that she may regulate the pace as she desires, a refinement

we might copy. After marriage the husband goes to the bride's home and

resides. A man leaves his property to his nephews and nieces, not to

his own children, for he casts a slur upon female virtue by saying: "A

man may be sure his sister's children are of his own blood, but who

knows that his own are?"

Descriptions of life so luxurious as that of the East Indies may seem

attractive and fascinating to dwellers in the harsh, northern climes;

but there are compensations. The enervated East Indian resident sighs

for the cold winter, the bracing sleigh ride, the animating change of

seasons, cultivated society, the intellectual stimulus of scientific

investigation and literary criticism, and though myself partial to the

East in many respects, I would say with England's poet:

"Better fifty years of Europe than a cycle of Cathay."

In six days the cargo destined for Batavia was landed, and on a

Saturday the vessel cleared for Singapore. The wind was ahead and it

was a difficult and dangerous task to work out among the many shoals

that lie in the harbor. No pilot could be obtained, and every one

advised me to wait till Sunday morning, and start with the fair breeze

that was sure to blow in its early hours. I had scruples about sailing

on Sunday if it could be avoided, yet feared censure if I detained the

vessel, so I resolved to make a start. We got under way, shot between

the shoals and cleared the shipping in safety. We passed our Sunday

quietly sailing across the Java Sea with the fresh N.W. Monsoon.

We had the task before us of beating up the Carimata Passage against a

head monsoon and an opposing current. It was a difficult undertaking,

often requiring weeks of fruitless labor, and a month was allotted

for the passage to Singapore by our friends in Batavia. On a previous

voyage I had found a disadvantage in having the crew engaged in

work, which sometimes prevented prompt attention to the manœuvering

of the vessel, indeed I considered once that I lost a day or two by

being prevented from tacking ship at the moment desired. Now I gave

orders that no jobs on the rigging, that were unnecessary, should be

undertaken, but that the crew should be kept standing by to work ship.

This then received sole attention. The sails were always trimmed, the

yards braced, and with every favoring variation of wind we tacked and

retacked, fighting our way with incessant vigilance by day and night,

slowly gaining ahead in spite of the opposing forces. We steered by

rocks and shoals, shot through the narrow Panambanga Channel off the

west coast of Borneo, and then, with a steady beat through the Southern

China Sea, we gained the Singapore Strait, and anchored in the harbor

of Singapore eleven days and a half from Batavia. This was an exciting

passage. Sailing night and day in those narrow waters occasioned a

great tension of nerves and limited the opportunities for sleep. One

night in particular remains in vivid remembrance, when near dangerous

shoals, out of sight of land, and uncertain where the current might

have drifted us, the hours of anxiety seemed like years, and in the

morning I looked in the glass with a half-serious apprehension lest

my hair had turned grey, according to stories we read of such effects

being produced by strong emotions. But there were pleasant days, when

gliding slowly by the evergreen islands, through the smooth blue waters

full of minute objects of interest, with distant mountain ranges to

rest the eye upon, life seemed as full of romantic enjoyment as the

imaginations of fabled story.

[Illustration: The midnight catastrophe.]

Upon arrival at Singapore my first indulgence was in a good all-night's

sleep in bed, which one learns to appreciate after days and nights on

deck.

On one of the few occasions during this passage, when I had an

opportunity to catch a nap on the cabin sofa at night, I was greatly

alarmed by being aroused from dreams of shipwreck, by water pouring

over me from a jug upset by the swinging open of a locker door.

Anything that happens to "the old man" is considered important on

shipboard, and this was deemed worthy of illustration.

At Singapore we discharged the rest of our cargo and loaded a quantity

of tin, gambier and gutta percha. We remained twenty-three days here,

most of the time being spent in waiting for the merchants at Penang to

purchase cargo, as the vessel's appearance at that port while they were

buying would have made the native traders put up their prices. So we

hid away at Singapore, and a very pleasant hiding place it was.

The first novelty that greeted our arrival was an assemblage of canoes

and boats. From the former small boys dived for coin, thrown from the

vessel, catching them before they descended far below the surface of

the water. From the latter were offered us fruit, birds, monkeys,

shells and corals, the last named being especially beautiful. A whole

boat load of these at "a hard bargain" was secured for seventy-five

cents. The appearance of the town is very picturesque, luxuriant

foliage appearing amidst the collections of white houses, and hills

rise in the rear covered with nutmeg and fruit trees, while near by the

fertile jungle dips its abundant growth into the sea. Many pleasant

hours were passed on shore; the fascinating hospitalities of luxurious

homes were enjoyed; a picnic in the midst of the jungle nine miles from

the city afforded a splendid view of tropical scenery; and a drive

to a cocoanut plantation of five hundred acres showed how European

enterprise is economizing the fertile products of the East. One evening

especially remains prominent in agreeable recollection, when I dined

with an old Boston friend. The table was spread on the rear verandah

where the trees waved close to us, and the air was full of delicious

odors and the singing of insects, their differing notes seeming like

tunes. Truly life in Singapore is fascinating.

There were a number of American vessels here waiting for freights

to improve in different ports of the East. In order to save expense

they desired to discharge their crews, but, three months' extra pay

being required by the consul, they either had to add to the lack of

employment the further infliction of supporting an unprofitable crew,

or drive the men to desertion by acts of cruelty and oppression. Every

day almost there was some row in the harbor on board an American ship,

and this law and its results was a continual topic of discussion.

In a work entitled "Among our Sailors," the author, Dr. J. Grey Jewell,

formerly Consul at Singapore, speaks at some length about the law

requiring three months' extra pay for seamen discharged abroad, and

concludes: "I am convinced that the law is a good one and that it

should stand."

During some years' experience in command of vessels I formed the

opinion that this is not a good law, and further that there is no

enactment concerning our merchant marine so injurious to sailors, so

vexatious to shipmasters, so unjust to shipowners, or so corrupting to

its executors in its influences. I believe most of those familiar with

its operations will approve of my pronouncing it a great curse. This

law was made in the beginning of the century, when Americans manned

our ships, and when these vessels visited ports seldom frequented,

where the discharge of a seaman might often leave him in destitution,

with no means of returning home. Now our ships are chiefly manned by

foreigners, who are more at home in foreign ports than in those on our

own shores, where only we may discharge them; and commerce has become

so extended that few places are visited by ships whence ready exit may

not be obtained.

Some instances of the operation of this law will best explain its

evils. A European crew were shipped in an American vessel at San

Francisco for a voyage to Liverpool, the shipping articles containing

the clause, made customary by the law prohibiting discharge of seamen

abroad, "and thence to a final port of discharge in the United

States." At Liverpool the men wished to leave and return to their

homes in Norway and Germany, or sail on other voyages. The ship was to

remain for several weeks in Liverpool and then sail for San Francisco

again, and the men had no desire to go in that direction. Wages in

Liverpool were lower than those paid this crew from California, so

the shipowner's interest demanded that he should not be obliged to

support and pay a useless crew for the weeks his ship was idle, and

that he should be allowed to man her for a new voyage at the lowest

rate of wages. On application to the Consul by the captain and sailors,

information was given that the crew might be discharged, but one

month's pay must be given to the Consul, and two months' pay extra to

each seaman. The crew, in order to be released, offered to return the

two months' pay to the captain, after signing a receipt for it, but the

captain, desiring to avoid the unjust imposition altogether, gave the

wages to the mate, who privately handed them to the sailors, and they

took their departure. The captain next reported to the Consul under

oath, that his crew had deserted without his knowledge or consent,

but the Consul, finding out that the men had received their money,

insisted on the payment of one month's wages at his office. Another

vessel shipped a crew at San Francisco to be discharged at Liverpool,

but still this extra payment was required.

A few years since a dozen American ships, one of them under my command,

arrived at a port in Asia. The trade they were engaged in was depressed

and they were doomed to remain idle for several months. The ships were

manned by foreigners, and the captains deemed it their duty to the

owners to avoid paying and feeding full crews for several months, when

they had no need of their services. Steamers and vessels in various

trades were arriving and departing daily, affording opportunity for

the men to obtain employment and leave the port. Application was made

to the Consul for permission to discharge the crews, which was given

on condition of compliance with the three months' pay law. This no one

cared to do; and the "fair means" being deemed unfair to the owner foul

means were employed. The captain of the S---- told his men they had

better leave, but, hoping to secure the two months' extra pay, they

declined. Orders were given to the mate to work them up and drive them

out of the ship. He accordingly hung planks over the ship's side, one

foot under water, and made the sailors stand on them and scrub the

ship's copper with sand, keeping them always on the sunny side of

the ship. It was the month of June. The tropical sun poured upon the

men's heads, while their feet were in the water, and glanced upon their

bodies from the copper they were polishing, giving no small torment.

One man ventured to go on deck and complain, but the smart mate soon

thrashed him into submission. That night half of the crew deserted.

Attached to the Consul's office was a shipping-master, who gave

personal attention to all details of business connected with crews, the

Consul merely expounding the laws to inquirers in his inner office, and

maintaining the dignity of the U.S. Government in a general way. The

shipping-master was in close alliance with the police of the place, and

the arrest of the deserters from the S---- was soon reported to him. He

thereupon informed the captain that the men must be received on board

again, but by mutual agreement a certain sum was paid to the shipping

master for each man, and they were reported to the Consul as deserters.

The remainder of the crew were soon got rid of, and the rest of the

ships followed suit, paying $10 to $15 per man to the shipping-master.

My own crew were much attached to their ship and were unwilling to

leave. I would not allow them to be oppressed in order to drive

them away, and the owners were forced to submit to the expense of

maintaining a large crew, besides the loss occasioned by the idleness

of the ship. After some time, half of the crew, knowing that they were

not wanted, and were only a burden, consented to leave; but the Consul,

in reply to the application, held up the three months' pay law, and my

choice was to keep the men or pay sixty dollars each besides the wages

due.

In this dilemma the shipping master offered to allow the men to

"desert," upon my paying him fourteen dollars apiece, which was to be

called "two weeks' board."

I felt compelled in justice to my owners' interest to adopt this plan,

and connive at the rascality by which an unjust law was evaded by those

entrusted with its enforcement. The matter was arranged so as to do

no violence to my conscience in the matter of oath and declaration of

desertion.

This shipping master, after a short term of service was able to

buy a half interest in a large ship, and probably approves of the

three-months' pay law. The previous Consul is said to have taken away

eighty thousand dollars after a few years' residence.

The owners of the ship I commanded are a firm on whom Dr. Jewell, in

the above-mentioned work, has cast severe aspersions, and it is due

to them to say that at the close of the voyage, while admitting that

a less humane captain would have made a more economical voyage, they

thoroughly approved of my principles, and said they did not mind losing

a thousand dollars now and then in support of them. They however

remarked that Capt. ----, who was a notorious sailor driver, sailed

his ships cheaper than any other captain in their employ, as he never

had a sailor remaining by the vessel in port. A few weeks after this

conversation it happened that news was received that Capt. ----'s ship

had put into Rio Janeiro with a mutinous crew, and some of the sailors

had been shot by the captain. Considerable expense and delay to the

voyage was caused by this, and the owners were overheard to say that

Capt. ---- should never have another chance to put one of their ships

into port in distress. They saw that the question of economy was not

always against the "humane captain."

The above facts, selected as samples from a multitude, illustrate the

assertion that the three months' pay law is:

_First_, An occasion for the exercise of much cruelty to the sailor,

and often obliges him to have the disgrace of desertion attached to his

name, in order to secure the release from his ship which his interests

demand.

_Secondly_, It obliges captains to resort to wrong or questionable acts

to secure their owners' interests, and involves them in many unpleasant

controversies.

_Thirdly_, It is a heavy tax on the shipowner, and is one among several

causes of the decay to our commerce.

_Fourthly_, It furnishes great temptation to corrupt action on the

part of consuls, and has, in too many cases, brought disgrace upon the

flag they represent.

What remedy is there? will be asked.

In 1840 an Act was passed authorizing consuls to use discretion in

enforcing the law in cases of discharge by mutual consent. This in 1856

was repealed and the law is now strenuously insisted on. Some other

nations permit the free discharge of crews where good reason or mutual

consent is shown, and where the Government is assured of freedom from

expense. Let the present law be wholly repealed, and give consuls power

to discharge men freely, where satisfaction is given that they will not

become a burden upon the United States. This satisfaction should be a

proof of the employment or shipment of the sailors, or else a deposit

of money for a limited term, or a bond for the payment of any future

expenses incurred, which might be collected at the port of entry in the

United States.

CHAPTER VII.

SINGAPORE.

Leaving Singapore in the early morning, we turned into the Strait

of Malacca, and with perfectly serene weather and light but varying

winds we slipped easily along through its smooth waters. The land was

always in sight, with its eternal verdure, and often we glided by gems

of islets that were beautiful enough to grace a paradise. "Eternal

sunshine gilds" these shores, and one who would enjoy the _dolce far

niente_ to perfection, should have his easy chair on a good ship's

deck, with sheltering awning overhead, and sail in the N.E. monsoon

season in the Eastern Archipelago.

Occasional puffs of wind favored us, and in the short time of four and

a half days we sighted Pulo Penang, and ran through the narrow South

Channel into its harbor.

Penang may be described as lovely and hot. It is situated on a plain,

and to the westward and seaward rises a high mountain, shutting off

the sea breezes, which might refresh the heated brow. This mountain,

however, is a noted sanitarium, and on its top a cool climate may be

found, which is often eagerly sought for its bracing effects upon the

heat-debilitated frame. The American Consul, a worthy Scotchman, had

rented a bungalow on the summit for a month. He kindly invited the

passenger and myself to spend a night there in turn. The passenger went

first, but soon the sad tidings were brought that he had been thrown

from his horse and broken his neck. The authority for this statement

was that a soldier had told a sailor so. Both professions, fortunately,

were at fault and the passenger returned in due time with his neck in

good order. His only explanation of the report was the statement, that

his pony was so small that he placed his feet on the ground and let the

animal gallop away from under him.

In my turn I ascended the hill, and spent the night, returning in the

cool of the morning. The deep ravines with their walls of verdure, the

beautiful views of the island, the sea and the main land beyond, the

delightful coolness of the air, the wonderful specimens of vegetation,

such as the air plants, hanging luxuriantly from the branches of

trees, fed by the air and rain on their surfaces, the traveller's

palms, with stores of fresh water kept in their hollowed leaves for

the thirsty wayfarer, and the tree-ferns, twenty feet in height, all

these with the strangest bird melodies imaginable made the trip one of

enchantment. One bird and a beetle made noises like a sawmill, another

bird sang the scale descending--five notes at least, and still another

sang it ascending. One more imitated the sound of a bell. At the foot

of the waterfall that descends the mountain, baths are established.

The Europeans assemble there in the evening and after the external

application of water, too frequently take an internal application of

"brandy cocktails."

The military band plays weekly on the "Sepoy Plain," back of the town,

and a pleasant gathering of the residents takes place.

An orphan-house and mission was being carried on here by some devoted

English missionaries, who, like their friend Mr. Müller of Bristol,

working independently of Societies, looked to the Lord to provide.

Their Christian fellowship, and the hours spent in searching the

Scriptures with them, were precious privileges.

We were a fortnight here, loading tin, nutmegs, mace, tapioca and india

rubber, and then sailed for Padang, where we were to complete our cargo

with coffee and cassia.

We beat out from Penang against a head wind, and with a slant reached

across the Strait of Malacca. We then found light breezes to waft us

along the north coast of Sumatra, "the Pepper Coast," as it was known

to our East India merchants of Boston and Salem in earlier days. A

pleasing change here occurred in the landscape. It is so rare to see

ground not covered with verdure in these regions, that the sight of

Golden Mountain near the north-west point of Sumatra was quite a treat.

It is a finely-formed peak and has much bare ground on its sides,

which appears golden in the intense sunlight. This was an enjoyable

day, but an anxious night followed. We were sailing pleasantly, with

all studding-sails set, through the passage between Pulo Way and Pulo

Rondo, twelve miles wide, when at midnight the wind died away and

the current swept us toward the island. There was no wind to make

the vessel steer, a cast of the lead proved there was no bottom at

sixty fathoms, so we could not anchor, and an inspection of chart and

sailing directions showed that the rocks arose perpendicularly from

deep water. No human device could save us from shipwreck, and unless a

breeze sprang up off-shore our bark would soon break in pieces against

the rocks. For this breeze I earnestly prayed. All hands were called

on deck; a long length of chain was overhauled with the intention of

letting go the anchor at the last moment, in the forlorn hope of its

finding bottom, and then the crew were stationed at the braces ready to

trim the yards the moment a breath of air might be perceived. I stood

at the stern watching the nearing approach of the dread rocks, which

now loomed through the darkness in frightful proximity, and wetting a

forefinger I held it out to catch the first trace of a breeze, but in

vain; until, when the last hope was about to expire, and a few minutes

more were expected to seal our doom, I perceived the faintest air

imaginable breathing off the land. The yards were immediately braced,

and the effect was to turn the vessel's head from the shore. I dropped

a fishing-line over the stern, and watched to see if it would trail

out; but it hung up and down showing that the vessel had no headway.

Soon, however, an additional breath came, then a little puff, and to

my exceeding joy, I felt the line give a slight pull at my fingers

as it stretched out into the wake. Then the water rippled along past

the rudder and we slowly but surely glided away from the dangerous

coast. Among many recollections of peril and anxiety, that calm hour,

when in utter helplessness we looked destruction in the face, will

remain prominent for its intense emotion, and the occasion it gave for

thanksgiving to the Hearer of prayer.

[Illustration: Despair.--Off Padang for six days.]

The West coast of Sumatra is faced by an innumerable number of islets,

rocks and shoals, outside of which lie a chain of larger islands. We

kept out in the open sea until off Padang, preferring a more circuitous

but safer route than the direct passage along shore. Here we could

sail day and night, without anchoring when darkness or squalls hid

the way. But our progress was slow and the passage became tedious and

trying. In the day time light airs and calms prevailed, the hot sun

poured down its rays with scorching intensity, and the air was so clear

that we once saw a peak one hundred and six miles distant. At night

heavy squalls of wind burst upon us, with torrents of rain and terrific

peals of thunder; the balls of fire, called by the sailors corposants,

blazed at the mast-heads, and the lightning was incessant. When sixteen

days out from Penang we sailed through Siberet Straits, and the next

evening just at dark we were within fifteen miles of our anchorage at

Padang. A dark squally night prevented our running in, and a heavy N.W.

gale and southerly current drove us a few miles south of the port. For

the next six days we were hard at work trying to make these few miles,

but as soon as we gained a little, a calm prevailed and the current

set us back again. The water was too deep for anchorage and we were

entirely dependent on the wind, which, however, coquetted with us till

endurance almost ceased to belong to our virtues. The captain's state

of mind as he descended bare-footed to the cabin after having stood on

deck in a rain squall, which was vainly expected to bring a breeze, may

be suspected by a glance at our artist's sketch of the posture assumed

upon the cabin sofa.

Six days of this harassing work made me so desperate that I took

advantage of a long continued squall to run in a dark night along the

dangerous reefs, and guided only by the roar of the breakers gained

a position, from which the next day we were able to work into Padang

Roads and anchor inside of the beautiful Island "Pulo Pisang," or

Banana Isle.

After safely anchoring at our long desired haven, a crew of native

boatmen manned the bark's boat and pulled me to the town of Padang two

miles distant. We rounded Apenberg, the hill to which its chattering

monkeys have given a name, and ascended a river a short distance to the

landing place.

When the preliminaries of business were transacted, my consignee kindly

invited me to reside at his house, and I enjoyed the change from a

cabin to a luxurious home. At day-light I visited the vessel, returning

on shore after breakfast. The house was built of wood with wide

verandahs in front and rear. Posts about six feet high supported it

from the ground, leaving a space under the house for air to circulate,

and rogues also as it proved; for a few weeks before my arrival a

robbery occurred, and it is supposed, in this way. The thieves went

under the house and bored holes in the floor of the sleeping room,

through which they introduced the smoke obtained by burning the leaves

of a narcotic plant. The inmate being stupefied, the thieves broke in

at the front door, robbed the house and took away an iron safe that

was chained to the bed of the sleeper. They were so sure of their work

that they stopped in the garden to open the safe, but being unable to

do this, they carried it to the beach and buried it in the sand, where

it was found the next day with its contents intact, except a few small

articles of jewelry, which the thieves had managed to shake out through

a small opening they had made. New York or London could hardly surpass

this. Many thought the house servants must have been abettors, as they

were accustomed to sleep on the verandahs outside the thresholds of

three entrances to the house, so that anyone entering must step over

them. Nothing could be proved against them, and we repeatedly had

occasion to step over their bodies at night and open the doors when

returning at late hours, and at such times entrance was often effected

without disturbing their sound slumbers.

The first Sunday in port, I left the officers to conduct the services

and attended the Dutch church on shore. I asked the captain of a Dutch

vessel to accompany me, but he said: "No, it is not respectable to go

to church here, and I am ashamed to." I told him our Lord's words about

those who are ashamed of Him; but that didn't trouble him, so I went

alone. I found one European civilian present, but not one lady, and

some soldiers and half castes. They first sang with great deliberation

a Psalm from a book which had the notes printed over each line; then

followed a prayer, hymn, half of the sermon, two contributions, the

remainder of the sermon a hymn and benediction. During the sermon any

one, who felt tired of sitting, arose and stood for a while. After

service I spoke to the minister in the ante-room. He and all the men

lit their cigars, and after a short chat and smoke they all went

puffing towards home. The next Sunday I gladly went on board and was

refreshed by the cheerful vigor with which the sailors sang the hymns:

"When I survey the wondrous cross," and, "Just as I am, without one

plea." The services were held on deck and the singing must have rung

over the harbor. Returning on shore, I called on board of a Dutch bark

and found a party assembled, among whom was the organist of the church,

all drinking brandy and smoking, the minister being absent from town

that day.

One day I attended the ordination of a Malay (Mohammedan) priest. The

Mohammedan religion is here intermingled with many of the ideas and

practices of heathendom, and it is the custom to test the worthiness

of the candidate for the priesthood by placing around his waist a band

containing long needles with the points against his abdomen. He then

at a given signal runs toward an appointed goal. The people give chase

and endeavor to strike the needles inwards and kill him. If he escapes,

he is deemed to have established his fitness for the office, thus

making legs and not heads or hearts the necessary qualifications. On

this occasion the Dutch soldiers were present in force to prevent this

barbarity, and the ceremony was restricted to a procession, praying and

reading the Koran.

There are few places in the world as lovely as Padang. The evening

drives along the roads bordered by the tall arching "arrow trees,"

with views of ocean and mountains on either hand, are amongst the most

charming recollections I retain of any land where I have wandered.

Kindly hospitalities join to heighten such charms.

The interior of Sumatra is most wonderful. There you enjoy a temperate

climate, Swiss and tropical scenery combined, an eternal spring and

a fertility of soil almost beyond belief. The suggestion made to me,

of taking a plantation, raising coffee and leading a life of exile in

a paradise, might have been very tempting, but for the restrictions

the Dutch government imposes upon all trade and enterprises, and the

obstacles presented by the uncouth Dutch language.

Here "every prospect pleases" and man is no viler than he is elsewhere.

Contact with the natives of Asia and the East Indies has raised my

opinion of "the heathen." The average of them appear as virtuous and

upright as the mass of men in Christian lands. I have really seen

less frequent display of vice than I have in our cities, and have

noticed many pleasant exhibitions of family affection, kindness and

honesty. The people in the interior of Sumatra are represented as being

remarkable for virtue, temperance and integrity; and even on the coast

they must be admitted to compare very favorably with the foreigners

about them, whom it is said they speak of contemptuously among

themselves as "drunken Europeans;" but they readily contract their

vices. Christianity unquestionably elevates all whom it reaches, but

our civilization alone has proved no moral blessing to those who have

experienced its influences in the distant regions of the earth.

After lying at Padang for a few days a bark appeared in the offing, and

with the spy-glass I discovered that she had our owner's flag at the

main. I started for her in my boat, introduced myself to the captain

and piloted him into an anchorage.

Capt. Blowhard was a stranger to me, but I was much pleased to have the

companionship of a countryman in this far-off port. As we passed the

_Rocket_, he remarked she looked very well, only she was rusty outside.

We had finished painting her the day before, so this comment excited my

surprise; but I soon discovered the captain's eye-sight was defective,

and I had the pleasure of supplying him with a pair of spectacles. We

went on shore together, and I introduced him to his consignee; but the

polite Dutchman was startled at seeing the captain swing his legs over

the arm of the chair and monopolize all the talk with boasts about his

clipper bark and her performances. In the evening I took him to drive,

and attempted to point out the sights of the place and the beauty of

the scenery, but his attention was not to be secured; during the whole

of the drive he kept his face toward me, and poured forth a continuous

stream of narrative and self-adulation. I learned that he had resigned

the command of one of the finest ships in the world to serve his

country. He passed highest in examination on Navigation, was appointed

executive officer of a large frigate, and soon, for his valor, was

given the command of a gunboat. After a celebrated naval battle his

vessel was so riddled with shot, that she was sent to Alexandria for

the Government to inspect as a curiosity. President Lincoln and a

committee from the Senate visited her and gave the captain public

thanks for his brave conduct. Commodore ---- remarked that there were

only three gentlemen in the Volunteer Navy: Smith, Jones, and Blowhard.

At the close of the war he was offered a position in the regular Navy,

with a splendid command, but he declined, saying he only had desired

to serve his country, and he wished no reward. I was much impressed

with all this information, and his invitation to breakfast on board the

next morning, with so brave, polite and magnanimous a man, inspired me

with gratitude and awe. I went on board to breakfast and was politely

received. His politeness was then exercised towards his steward, who,

being unable to find the napkins (which probably were not often used,)

was led around the cabin by the ear until they were discovered, the

captain remarking to me, "He's a good-natured nigger or he'd have been

killed long ago." The meal was enlivened by frequent abuse of this

poor darkey, and I was not sorry when it was time to go on shore. We

went in the same boat, and as the captain continually talked with his

face toward me, I perceived, what I certainly thought were the fumes

of whiskey; but I discovered the injustice I had done him, after a

while, when he remarked, "I bought some Cologne at Batavia, and it's

the queerest stuff I ever saw; it smells just like whiskey. I put some

on my handkerchief just before I left the vessel, and I thought I'd

mention it to you lest you might think I'd been drinking, which I never

do." This should be a warning to temperance men to be careful in their

choice of eau de cologne. We dined together at the hotel that day, and

the captain entertained the whole company with his conversation. At one

time, addressing a remark to a young Dutch officer, the latter replied:

"No speak Engleesh," when the captain rejoined: "Every _gentleman_

speaks English." The officer understood this and accepted it as an

insult. Withdrawing from the table he found friendly assistance in

concocting an English note, challenging the captain to fight a duel

with broadswords. But this met with no response from the captain.

Our friendship did not grow, and the sentiment of kindred nationality

failed to continue in its first ardor.

On Sunday afternoons we had services on deck, under the awning. I

invited Capt. Blowhard and his crew; but the captain said he didn't

approve of letting the crews of different vessels mix together, so

we held our meetings by ourselves, with the exception of a few Dutch

sailors from a neighboring vessel. As the _Rocket_ and the "F----" were

both homeward bound and in the same employ we felt much rivalry about

the passage and some interest was excited among the merchants over the

anticipated race. As the "F----" was reported the fastest vessel and

her captain was certainly the most dashing man, the bets were in her

favor. Having less cargo to take in, she was loaded first and got three

days start of us.

One calm morning we drifted out of Padang Roads and slowly worked our

way southward in search of the Trades; but when obtained, pleasant

breezes and fine weather favored us. After passing Mauritius we took "a

streak" of strong S.E. and E. winds which put a new face upon matters.

Our dull start had made us feel hopeless about the race, but now we

seemed to be gaining time and the thought of the "F----" ahead kept

sail from coming in many a time when prudence suggested it. Every thing

was cracked on and two topmast studding-sail booms were carried away

within twenty-four hours. But they were immediately replaced, and on we

sped ten knots an hour, feeling we were going very fast, except when

now and then an English tea clipper came up astern and passed out of

sight ahead.

I learned at sea that there had been one disagreement on board during

my absence on shore at Padang. A sailor, called Harry, being reproved

for something by the mate, gave a back answer. Then being threatened,

he said: "I'm not afraid; you ain't bigger than a pint of cider,

anyway." This was an insult that seemed warrant enough for a fight, and

few officers could have resisted it. I was pleased to learn, that in

spite of this great provocation, the mate had restrained his impulses,

in obedience to my orders, and had succeeded eventually in controlling

the man.

When the cooler weather again drove us to the cabin in the evening, the

passenger lent his patient ear to the story of "Another voyage in the

'Dublin.'"

CHAPTER VIII.

ANOTHER VOYAGE IN THE "DUBLIN."

ABOUT three weeks after I left the "Dublin" a letter came on from Capt.

Streeter, saying that the ship was going to load a cargo of tobacco

and staves at Baltimore for Amsterdam, and asking me to go with him

as second mate. I had almost hoped the offer would not come, for

whenever the scenes of the last voyage had been recalled to my mind, in

the midst of the delightful and elevated associations of home, I had

shuddered as though the veil of a lower world had been drawn aside, and

its enormities and fiendish spirit had been disclosed to me. I could

scarcely summon courage to return to it, and I also felt that it might

be my duty to avoid a sphere of such temptation and bad influences. On

the other hand, I had scarcely enough confidence in my abilities to

ship as second mate with a stranger, and felt from what I had seen and

heard of other ships that there was a great uncertainty as to whether

a change would be for the better, and this could only be proved by

experience. With some misgivings I decided to go. I liked the owner

so much, and was so pleased by the interest which he showed toward

me, that I thought it desirable to keep in his employ, even though I

found things were not just to my mind on board ship; and the owner's

assurances that the captain would improve, relieved my apprehension a

little, though I knew Capt. Streeter's smooth way of talking too well

to place much dependence upon it. Still the captain was shrewd enough

to know on which side his bread was buttered, and if the owner had told

him as he said, that his remaining in the ship was dependent upon his

good behavior, it was reasonable to suppose that his conduct might be

influenced somewhat by this motive.

A week later witnessed my arrival on board the "Dublin." The captain

seemed glad to see me, but Mr. Howard was not so cordial, and appeared

very much under the weather.

"I tell you what it is," said he, as we walked forward together to have

a chat, "I've been second mate of a ship a long time, but I never had

a man treat me so like a dog as Capt. Streeter's done since we've been

in port. He wanted the ship scrubbed around outside as soon as the

copper got out of water; and a man offered to do it, and paint her

beside, for ten dollars, when the regular price that other ships pay is

twenty dollars. But the old man kicked up 'Bob's a dying,' and swore

he wouldn't pay no such price; and then he gave me so many hints, and

told me so many stories about what that cursed Mr. Jones of his used

to do in port, that at last I offered to do it myself. So he hired a

raft, and a boy to help me, and then I scrubbed the ship and painted

her bends all round. I thought that would satisfy him, but as long as I

had got my hand into dirty work, he thought he wouldn't let me take it

out, and he had the face to tell me to go over the bow and coal-tar the

bob-stays, and all the rest of the iron-work. I was just fool enough

to do it, and he's kept me going ever since at jobs that any decent

captain would hire a man to do; but it's about played out now. He's

so mean he'd skin a louse for its hide and tallow; and his soul is so

small you could punch the pith out of a horse-hair and put his soul

inside, and then it would rattle if you shook it."

I did not try to soothe him very much, and rather hoped he wouldn't be

soothed; for the prospect of his leaving the ship, which was suggested

by the tenor of his remarks, was not at all unpleasant to me.

The next morning Mr. Howard had a talk with the captain in the cabin

after breakfast, and then came out on deck to where I was standing and

said: "Mr. A----, I'm going to leave the ship."

"Are you?" said I, greatly astonished but equally pleased. "What is

that for?"

"Well, I'll tell you why. One thing is, I've got sick of the old man,

and another is that I know I'm not competent to go mate of a ship,

for I don't know no more about navigation than that windlass does,

and the first time the old man got mad with me at sea, he'd heave it

up in my face, for all he talks so fair now about it's not making any

difference. But another thing I'll tell you, and I don't want you to

get mad with me for saying it, for I never met a man on board of a ship

that I liked any better than I do you; I don't think we can get along

together. I'm bound to make the old shell-backs toe the mark, and if

they don't do it I can't talk polite to 'em. I wasn't brought up to

that business. But whenever I've had a row at sea you've hardly spoken

to me for a week after. Now if I go in this ship again, I know we shall

be at loggerheads all the time, and it's a bad job for officers of a

ship if they can't sail alongside of each other. I've got a chance to

go second mate of the ship "Robert Stanwood," and the mate's a man

just like myself, and we can hitch horses. The fact is, I've too much

respect for you to sail with you. You're too good a man to go to sea.

It's a life only fit for a rascal, but if you're bound to go, I hope

you'll get along well, and have a mate to your liking, though I think

they are scarce fish in these waters."

I was certainly pleased at Mr. Howard's decision, but was much touched

by his way of announcing it.

"I don't wonder that you want to leave, Mr. Howard," I replied; "but

it would be more for your interest to stay, and if you make up your

mind not to be quite so hard on sailors, I think we can get along

pleasantly. You must remember it isn't the most important thing in a

man's life to make sailors run the mile in less than three minutes,

when a four-minute pace would be just as good for the ship and the

owners. I believe in making sailors work and keep in their place, but I

don't believe in giving up all one's good principles to do it, nor do I

think it is necessary."

"Perhaps not; you and me has been brought up very different, and we

must go our own way. I've got an ugly temper, I know; but it's there,

and it's got to come out. When you've seen as much of sailors as I

have, maybe you'll think the best way to deal with 'em is to knock 'em

down."

Mr. Howard left the ship, much to the captain's sorrow; for he was a

man after his own heart, and he hoped he had at last found officers

that were willing to sail with him on a second voyage.

The ship leaked a good deal even in port, and by the captain's orders

another man and myself had to pump her out, involving half an hour's

work morning and night on a straight wooden pump handle. After

the trouble we had on the last passage, I was astonished that new

pumps had not been procured, and as I was in correspondence with the

bookkeeper in the owner's office, in the course of a friendly letter

I slipped in a word about the pumps. By return mail a letter came

from the owner, telling the captain to get the best pumps that could

be obtained. He told me this without suspicion of my agency in the

matter, but remarked: "The owner is very ready to say get this or

that, but when the bills come in he would find fault about the heavy

disbursements." The ship went to sea without them and I felt very loth

to go in her, for the only explanation that occurred to me was, that

the captain wanted to get the ship into a port of distress, and have an

underwriter's job, which would give him a chance to enrich his pockets

with percentages.

The person, who came to undertake the mate's duties for the voyage, was

a young man of twenty-five years, named Wright, a native of Baltimore.

He had received a liberal share of his education in the streets, and

was familiar with the peculiarities of "Blood-tubs" and "Plug-uglies."

But besides these questionable accomplishments he possessed a tall,

manly form, a handsome, expressive face, and a clear eye, which, while

it impressed one with its determination, also implied a nature that

despised meanness. His manners were quite gentlemanly, and after a

short intercourse with him I felt convinced that he was superior in

natural gifts to any man I had yet sailed with; and I was much pleased

with the change of mates.

The ship had loaded a full cargo of Maryland tobacco, which comes in

smaller casks than the Virginia, though still of good size, weighing

upwards of nine hundred pounds. Several thousand staves had also been

stowed away, to fill up all the spare room, and the ship's stores

and water having been taken on board, she was ready for sea, and

accordingly received the crew, and proceeded down the Chesapeake

towards the sea.

The crew, as usual upon the commencement of a voyage, were for the

most part under the influence of liquor. The mate was very reserved in

talking about sailors, and told no fighting stories, which I thought

must be evidence that he was a peaceable man, and as they came over the

rail and staggered into the forecastle, he had remarked to me; "We'll

have 'em all straight in a day or two. I don't like a drunken row, and

we must shut our eyes to some things the first day."

He carried out these precepts, except upon finding a young Irishman

sitting on his chest in the forecastle while all the other sailors

were at work, when the answer that was given to the order to come out

on deck was the brandishing of a sheath-knife and the declaration

that he wasn't going to work "on board the bloody hooker." The mate

settled this question by snatching away the knife, hauling the man on

deck, and hitting him two or three cracks with a belaying pin, and the

captain seeing it showed some signs of reform by shouting: "That'll do,

Mr. Wright, that'll do till we get outside."

Leaving the pilot off the Capes of Virginia, the voyage was fairly

begun, with a fresh S.W. wind, which increasing to a strong breeze blew

after us for seven days, and took us half way across the Atlantic.

I now stood watch alone for the first time, and it seemed a tremendous

responsibility to be left in charge of the ship on a dark, squally

night. How a person could become so unconcerned as to fall asleep, as I

knew Mr. Howard had sometimes done, was more than I could understand.

I found a great difference between a second and third mate's position.

When I was in the latter, I had only to obey orders and see to the

execution of work designed by my superiors. But now I had to decide

upon such matters for myself, and it sometimes set me at my wits' ends

to find work to keep my eight men constantly employed, particularly

in wet weather when sails and rigging could not be worked on. It had

seemed easy enough when third mate, for whenever at a loss I could fall

back on the mate for a job. But now when the watches were changed the

mate would start me with some work and going below would leave me to

get along as well as I could.

It is customary, as a general thing, for the mate to take special

charge of the foremast and jib-boom, and the second mate of the

mainmast and mizzen-mast, as far as keeping them in order is concerned.

But the mate keeps the general supervision of the work, and the second

mate would not make any changes of consequence without the mate's

approval. This obliges him to resort to small jobs to keep his men

employed when more extensive work fails, and they are apt to be of

the character denominated "humbugging" by sailors, and of which the

exponent is sawing wood with a hammer. It must be admitted that a great

deal of work is done on board ship, which will hardly bear the test

of necessity. But the men must be constantly employed, and if other

things fail the chain-cable will always have rust enough on it to

admit of cleaning, as a last resort; and if some who wonder "what they

find to do on board ship," could have spent a day in one of the flash

California clippers of a few years' ago, they would have seen a large

crew busied not only in the day-time, but through the night, scraping

eye-bolts and iron belaying-pins till they shone like silver, smoothing

off the paint work by rubbing with stones, scraping other parts bright,

as also the masts and yards, and wearing away the deck with holystones,

as well as the more legitimate work of making and taking in sail,

bracing yards and repairing sails and rigging.

The rule of labor in such vessels is comprised in the sailor's

"Philadelphia Catechism:"

"Six days thou shalt labor and do all thou art able; and on the

seventh, holystone the decks and pound the cable."

I found, too, that it was rather harder to get along with the sailors.

Having entire control of my watch I took much more interest in their

performance of work, and any laziness or stupidity excited my pugnacity

in the like greater proportion.

The crew, with two or three exceptions, were a poor set of men; not

particularly ugly in disposition, but ignorant, thick-headed and lazy,

and very trying to an officer's temper.

The captain behaved wonderfully well, and seemed so sincerely

endeavoring to restrain his usual sea indulgences, that I had no regret

at my decision in making the voyage.

The mate got along rather quietly, and proved himself to be a very

efficient officer; and there was something in his calm, decided

bearing which gave the captain great confidence in him, and also kept

him somewhat from his customary interference with mate's duties.

He bestowed pretty liberal attention on the second mate's affairs,

however, and used to make me understand sometimes what Mr. Morrison had

endured the previous voyage.

The mate was not harsh with the sailors, and carried on his work with

very little noise, giving ordinary orders in a mild tone. But still

he was strict, and the men had to move at a lively pace and be wide

awake; and sometimes when they failed to do this, he did not resist the

temptation of sending a curse and a belaying-pin after them, or perhaps

giving them a touch of a rope's end. There was nothing, however, like

Mr. Howard's abuse of men, and if a sailor did come in for a rap, he

was pretty sure to be in the wrong. His relations to me were very

pleasant. When relieving each other at night, if no work was going

on, we had a short chat, or the mate told some little yarn about the

Liverpool packet trade, which he had sailed in a good deal.

There was no third mate this voyage, so we had to depend on each other

for sociability.

Though it was the month of August the weather was blustering and

changeable. The S.W. wind which had favored us so well gave place to

northerly and easterly winds, with unsettled and squally weather. At

times nearly all sail would be set to a steady breeze, when suddenly

the black, threatening clouds would spring up from the horizon, and

with only a few minutes' warning, spread over the sky, bursting upon

the ship in a furious gust, while all hands would be at work clewing up

and hauling down the slatting, booming and rustling sails; and officers

and sailors increased the noise by what would seem to a landsman a

perfect Babel of harsh orders and shrill cries.

Those are the times that try officers' souls, and the times that test

the sailors' merit. In fine weather a little laziness or ignorance may

perhaps be borne patiently, but in a squall there is no forgiveness for

a man who "hangs back," or "doesn't know what he's about."

In the confusion attending these squalls some of the sailors seemed to

forget what little they knew, and were frequently letting go the wrong

ropes or running everywhere except to the place where they were wanted.

The captain's good resolutions succumbed to this pressure so far as to

allow his tongue to regain its old fluency at cursing; the mate was

pretty active both in words and deeds; and as for the second mate, he

used to bite his lips pretty hard to keep his tongue quiet.

There was an old sailor on board who had greatly attracted my interest,

partly owing to the circumstances attending his coming on this voyage,

and partly because of his good nature and willingness to work as well

as his feeble energies would permit. He was now fifty-two years old,

and a confirmed drunkard. The day after leaving Baltimore he came to

the steward, as he was about going into the galley with a pan of dough,

and asked him if he knew where the ship was bound to.

"Certainly," said the steward, "don't you?"

He shook his head, and the steward told him: "We're going to Amsterdam."

Old Harry's story was this: He was the son of a clergyman in Virginia,

and when quite young had run away to sea. He fell into bad habits

which prevented his rising in his profession, and for years he had been

drifting about, sometimes in the navy, and again in merchant vessels.

Though he had occasionally returned to his friends, his appetite for

strong drink had always overcome his good resolutions, and he had long

ago been given up as a hopeless case. He had a brother in Norfolk,

well to do, who, after several unsuccessful efforts of late years to

find traces of Harry, had discovered his last voyage. Upon the arrival

of the ship at Baltimore he had sent him a sum of money to defray his

expenses home, and offered to give him a shelter and support him for

the rest of his days. Old Harry was glad enough to accept this offer,

for he was now quite broken down in health, and in his sober hours at

sea had many anxious thoughts as to what would become of him in the

future. But he could not resist the inclination for another good drink

before he started, and his next sensible moment found him removed from

the den in Baltimore, where he had been carousing, to the forecastle,

out of sight of land, and with only fifteen cents in his pocket. These

he offered to the steward for a glass of whiskey, with most imploring

tones, but failed to obtain it. He had a touch of _delirium tremens_,

and after getting rid of the devils who, he fancied, were tormenting

him, he was in a most thoughtful and penitent mood.

A twenty-two days' passage brought the ship into the English Channel.

Passing through the Straits of Dover into the North Sea, the wind

hauled to the northward and increased to a fresh gale. The topsails

were double-reefed, and the ship slowly forged ahead, though making

some leeway, causing the captain to feel anxious about the lee shore,

which was in sight not far distant.

The Dutch pilots usually cruise about Dungeness, at the entrance of the

Straits, but not happening to run across one, Capt. Streeter was in too

much of a hurry to wait, and so kept on. Now he became very anxious to

procure one, and being off Antwerp he ordered he me to set the "Jack"

at the fore royal-mast-head as a signal for a pilot. I gave the signal

halyards to one of the men, and told him to lay aloft and reeve them at

the fore. The man slowly climbed up the rigging, but when he got to the

royal-mast his courage gave out. The ship was lying over very much and

jumping heavily in the sharp sea, so that it was a matter of difficulty

to hold on, and much more so to shin up the long mast-head. I cheered

the man on, who made two or three unsuccessful attempts to reach the

truck, but after ascending a short distance invariably slid back to

the eyes of the rigging. Another man was now sent up to help him, or

do the work for him, and I travelled aloft also to drive them up. But

both men were thoroughly frightened; so much so that I feared they

might lose their hold altogether, and I did not like to force them at

this risk, so at last I took the halyards myself and soon was at the

mast-head. Just at this moment Capt. Streeter came out of the cabin and

walked forward to see if his order had been executed. There he beheld

his second mate at the fore truck, and two sailors in the cross-trees

looking at him performing their work. This was rather opposed to his

idea of things, so he armed himself with the long unused cat, which had

been out of service since the negro-boys escaped from its tutelage,

and when the men reached the deck he gave them each a good flogging;

and when I appeared he said to me: "If I ever see you do sailors' work

again for them, I'll treat you in the same way."

But the flag did not bring the pilot, though the wind moderated enough

to quiet the captain's fears of the lee-shore. Laying off and on during

the night, in the morning the spires and windmills of Holland appeared

rising out of the sea before the land was visible. A pilot boat came

along side and a rosy-cheeked little Dutchman clambered over the rail.

In his short sailor's jacket he looked like an overgrown boy; but he

proved himself a good pilot, by bringing the ship into the Zuyder Zee

and then entering her in the canal at New Diep, the port of Amsterdam.

Vessels formerly sailed up the Zuyder Zee to Amsterdam, but were

often detained two or three weeks for water enough to carry them over

a certain bank. The enterprising merchants, to obviate this delay,

dug a canal fifty miles long, from Amsterdam to New Diep, making it

wide enough for two frigates to pass abreast, and the ships are drawn

through this to the city in about eighteen hours; or, if preferred,

they can discharge at New Diep into canal-boats, which convey the cargo

to the city. Another deeper and shorter canal has been made since then.

Capt. Streeter chose the latter plan and speedily got to work at

discharging the tobacco and staves. With two men I worked in the hold,

breaking out and slinging the cargo, and the rest on deck, at the

tackle, hoisted it out.

Though the ship lay alongside the quay, the captain refused permission

to any of the sailors to go on shore in the evening, saying all

they wanted was to get drunk, and the sailors not relishing this

restriction, and thinking they had done enough hard work on board the

"Dublin," took leave of absence on their own account, and for awhile

every morning found two of the crew missing, until only three or four

were left.

In a fortnight the ship was all discharged and ballasted, the captain

went to the city, settled his freight and cleared for Cronstadt. I

had to curb my love of sight-seeing, as my duties would not allow me

to visit the city. In New Diep I saw the Dutch people, the women with

their gold bands hung across their foreheads, and metal head-dresses

ending in front in two little cullenders holding curls, and the men

with their pipes, even the minsters walking to church on Sunday smoking.

The clean swept pavement and the white walled houses with their red

tiled roofs confirmed the reputation of that people for order and

cleanliness.

The captain upon returning to the vessel shipped some men, and put to

sea, having a final "growl" at the captain of the steamboat that towed

him out, bestowed upon him rather because he was the last Dutchman

he should see for a while, than because of any special fault in the

person. But he had to take Capt. Streeter's opinion of his countrymen,

and to say the least they were not very flattering to his national

pride. "Slower than real estate in Chelsea;" "don't know enough to

go into the house when it rains;" "put two ideas in their heads and

they'd bu'st," were a few of the favorite phrases made to apply to the

subject under consideration, as many times before they had been applied

by Capt. Streeter to such unfortunate people as came into the world

outside of the limits of "free and enlightened America."

In three days we rounded the north of Denmark and squared away through

the Cattegat with a fresh north-west wind. Before we reached Elsinore

we had a change of wind to the southward, and were all day beating up

the roads, where we anchored at dark. The next morning we started, with

a fleet of one hundred and fifty vessels, to beat into the Baltic. All

hands were on deck, and we tacked every fifteen minutes. As the Dublin

was flying light, and most of the fleet were coal-laden, she soon

distanced them all, and at sunset we weathered Falsterbo and squared

away up the Baltic.

After leaving New Diep, a change came over the captain; the restraint

which he had seemed to impose upon his passions during this voyage,

vanished, and he acted as though intent upon making up for lost time,

and relieving himself of an accumulation of malice and profanity. In

a head wind or calm he would throw his hat on deck and jump on it,

pouring forth abundant curses, and once even went so far as to shake

his fist aloft and swear at "Him who made the calm." The sailors shook

their heads and remarked to each other that the old man wasn't helping

things much, and in the forecastle they told stories about ships being

becalmed until the crew starved, or until the grass grew so long on her

bottom that it took root at the bottom of the sea and held her fast

when at last a breeze came.

The crew behaved pretty well, were very civil and prompt in obeying

orders, and proved themselves good "sailor men" withal.

After the captain had about exhausted his vocabulary on the calm, he

felt the need of something or person else to vent his spite upon; and

as the crew, who usually received these attentions, hardly gave the

excuse in this case, he very suddenly turned upon the second mate,

watched me every moment, and criticised every act that could be in any

way twisted so as to bear it.

He had always appeared more friendly to me than to any one else,

and this sudden change took everyone by surprise. It could hardly

be accounted for except by supposing it to be the expression of his

displeasure at my failure to develop into an officer after his own

heart.

It was soon evident that he had returned to the worst phase of his last

voyage. I, of all others, had occasion to notice it, for the captain's

peculiar attentions were bestowed upon me. His piercing eye was

fastened upon me during the greater part of the day, and often in the

night he crept stealthily on deck in hope of discovering some neglect

of duty, but always found me awake, and the yards and sails trimmed

as they should be, unless it happened that he came out within a few

moments of a little change of wind, and on one or two such occasions

he declared it had been so for half an hour, and taunted me with

inattention, or threw out a hint that he suspected me of having been

asleep--the greatest fault an officer can be guilty of. His principal

reason for the latter suspicion on one occasion was that he had a dream

about wild horses, which never occurred except when an officer was

asleep. He had proved it several times, and never knew it to fail. Mr.

Jones never went to sleep but once on deck, and that time the captain

woke up in the midst of this dream and caught him.

These things were very galling, but I was able to avoid any

disrespectful response, until one morning his taunts were heaped upon

me beyond endurance, and I had to answer back.

My watch came on deck at 8 A.M., and the captain told me to take a pull

of the main tack. He stood superintending the work as usual, and as we

hauled on the rope he shouted out what were supposed to be encouraging

orders: "Haul, you wicked rascals." "Lay out your beef on it;--bend

your backs to it; you wouldn't haul a mackerel off a gridiron!"

Finally, upon his calling out: "Haul away!" I understood him to say

"belay," and giving that order to the men the rope was made fast.

"How dare you belay a rope when I'm looking out for it?" shouted the

captain in a rage.

"I thought you ordered me to," said I.

This was an unfortunate speech, as Capt. Streeter had a decided

animosity to anyone's using the word _thought_.

"What business have you got to think, I'd like to know," he replied.

"You didn't ship for that. I'll make you know your place. I'm the only

man that's allowed to think aboard of this ship. You'll try to take

charge, if I let you keep on with your airs a little longer. You swing

about the decks now as though the ship belonged to you."

These phrases and several others were rattled off, one after the other,

and interlarded plentifully with oaths. Meanwhile I and the whole watch

stood gazing in wonder at the captain, scarcely knowing what to make of

this great ado about nothing. He walked aft a few steps and turned to

watch my movements as I set the men at work. The mate was standing by

the main hatch, and he told me to let one of my watch sew some canvas

on the foot of the mainsail, and directed me to let him sit in the

bight of a main buntline while he worked at it. I started the man at

his job exactly as the mate wished, but as the man caught hold of the

buntline to swing himself up to the desired position, the captain burst

out upon me again:

"What kind of back-handed work is that? Why don't you lower the man

down in a bo's'n's chair? I believe if you got two ideas in your head

it would bu'st. I'd like to know what is the matter with you?"

"The matter is," said I, "that I've always been treated decently till I

came here, and I'm not used to be cursed about and snarled at as if I

was a loblolly boy. Because I'm good natured you're trying to impose on

me, but I can't stand everything."

"If you say another word I'll knock your head off," said Capt.

Streeter, shaking his huge fist in my face. "Don't undertake to dictate

to me what kind of talk I use. I'd swear if the owner and God Almighty

were here." Then he said: "No! I won't fight you, if you were a man of

my size I would, but I'll treat you like a boy that's beneath my notice

that way. But after this I'll keep you in your place. Go set your men

to work, and mind you behave yourself."

That day Capt. Streeter paced the deck a good deal, evidently in deep

thought, and in the evening after supper he called me into the cabin.

"Mr. A----" said he, "do you know that a man who has had any education

can give a slur that'll hurt a good deal more than another man can.

Now, I feel one word from you more than I do a dozen from any one else,

and I feel hurt at the way you spoke to me this morning."

"I've always tried to be respectful to you, sir," I replied, "and I

think I've been more so than any body else would have been, because

I've been anxious that no one should think I put on any airs on account

of your familiarity with me. For the last week you've done nothing but

snarl at me and pick upon me. I know, of course, that I'm at fault

sometimes, but not as much as you try to make out."

"You can't expect a sea captain to be as mild as a parson all the

time," said Capt. Streeter. "You must make allowances. If I'm not quite

perfect I want you to respect me as your captain!"

"I always mean to respect you as my captain; but, if you'll allow me to

speak the plain truth, it's impossible to respect you as a _man_, and

I'm not always able to conceal my private feelings."

"If you can't respect me as a man, I want you to as your captain," said

Capt. Streeter, biting his lips and looking as though he had received a

slur that cut pretty deep. "That'll do."

Capt. Streeter felt that the account stood rather against him, and took

continual opportunities to annoy me, and occasionally repeated the

sentence which closed his cabin conference, showing that my remark had

taken strong hold upon him.

The night before we reached Cronstadt I had a good talk with the

captain, and he came to the conclusion he had better turn his

attentions to somebody else, and we gradually got to better terms with

each other.

In Cronstadt we discharged ballast and loaded a cargo of iron and hemp.

The crew were called every morning at half past four, which of course

was not very agreeable, and one morning an Irish sailor growled so

much about it, the mate went into the forecastle and struck him two or

three blows with his brass knuckles. A half hour afterwards the mate

picked up a handspike and struck him a blow across the stomach, and

after breakfast he told the captain of it, and the man was called aft

and severely beaten on the back with the end of the main clew-garnet,

a good sized rope. No more complaints were made about early rising.

The mate had a row with another sailor one day, and receiving some

insolence, threw a heavy piece of wood at his head, which fortunately

missed its mark. The man was so frightened that he deserted that night

with one of his shipmates.

The ship was loaded so deeply and was leaking so much, and moreover

had such wretched pumps, that many misgivings were expressed as to her

ever crossing the Atlantic safely. The superstitious among the crew

were still more disaffected when two Finnish sailors came on board,

for a Finn is believed to have dealings with the evil one, and to be

a dangerous shipmate. We sailed for Boston one September morning,

and beat down the Gulf of Finland. The crew that were shipped at New

Diep were to get fifteen dollars a month, but wages were higher in

Cronstadt, and the two Finnish sailors had shipped for twenty dollars.

They had signed articles to that effect, drawn up by the American

Consul. This grieved the captain's economic soul, and the day after we

sailed, he called one of the Finns into the cabin and summoned me for a

witness. He told the man that if he didn't prove to be a first-class,

able seaman, he should cut his wages down to ten dollars a month; but,

if he would sign the articles that the rest of the crew were on, and

accept fifteen dollars, he would say nothing about his seamanship.

The man was confident of his ability, and had every appearance of a

thorough seaman. He understood English imperfectly, and was somewhat

bewildered by this proposition, but he realized it was a scheme to

defraud him of five dollars a month, and he respectfully declined to

sign the new articles, saying, he had signed once before the consul

and that was his bargain. After a little useless argument, the captain

rose and shut the cabin door; then he caught the man by the neck with

his left hand, and gave him a blow with his right fist that knocked

him down. He jumped on his chest two or three times with his whole

weight; and then kneeling on top of him pounded his face severely. The

man cried out for mercy and promised to sign. He was then helped to

the table and wrote his name on the fifteen dollar articles. The other

Finn was at the wheel at the time, and whether he heard anything of

what was going on or not, he seemed to lose his head just then, and ran

the ship off her course. The mate, perceiving it, struck him and put

another man in his place. He was just coming forward as the captain and

his shipmate stepped out of the cabin. The bruised face of his comrade

startled him, and when the captain told him to go into the cabin he

refused, supposing he was going to be beaten for his bad steering. The

captain, without further words, seized a belaying pin from the rail and

hit him a powerful blow on the head, which cut a deep gash on the side

of his forehead, and in a moment his face was one mass of blood. The

steward and myself carried him into the cabin, by his head and heels,

and seating him on a stool in a state-room, bound up his broken head

with strips of sail cloth in lieu of rags. The captain brought a pen to

him and told him to write his name on the old articles.

"What ish dis?" he asked.

"Do as you're told," said the captain, and the man signed.

The captain then put a pair of handcuffs on the man's wrists, though he

was as quiet as possible, and he was left to meditate on the privileges

of sailing under that symbol of freedom and justice, the American flag.

CHAPTER IX.

THE "DUBLIN"--CONCLUDED.

When eight days out from Cronstadt the ship was in the North Sea about

forty miles S. W. of the Naze of Norway. The weather was rainy and

the sky dark and threatening. The wind gradually increased to a gale

from the westward, and in a few hours the ship was hove to under the

close-reefed main-topsail, laboring heavily in the ugly confused sea.

Careful attention to the pumps showed that the ship was leaking more

than usual, keeping the pumps constantly going. The sand washed to the

well-room and choked the pumps, which had not force enough to throw it

out. It was blowing a living gale, the ship was leaking badly and the

pumps were useless, the alternative that was presented was to founder

at sea, or run for some port. Accordingly, in the afternoon, the

captain ordered the yards to be squared, and the ship scudded before

wind and sea towards the Cattegat. Getting one pump clear, the crew, by

constant work, kept the water from gaining rapidly; but a new danger

was now before us. The captain had not seen the sun for twenty-four

hours and was not very confident as to the ship's position; she was

running towards the land, and an error of a few miles in the reckoning

might result in the loss of all on board before the next day-break.

The Coast of Denmark is very low and cannot be seen far at sea even

in clear weather, and though Captain Streeter hoped to fetch to the

northward of it, still he felt very much concerned, as the distance

would probably be run before day-light. I shall never forget my

feelings as I stood by the wheel that night, in the middle watch, while

the ship scudded before the howling tempest in the pitchy darkness,

perhaps towards sudden and certain destruction.

The negro steward had the best eyes of any man in the ship, and at the

first dawn of day he went forward and looked anxiously and earnestly

ahead. In a moment the cry, "Land, ho!" sounded, and he ran aft and

reported to the captain that he could see the land not more than five

miles off. Calling all hands the captain hauled the ship by the wind

and crowded all the sail possible in order to keep the ship off the

lee-shore and weather the northern point of Denmark, which, as the day

broke, appeared on the lee bow. He found that he had missed his course

by only eight or ten miles, but had it not been for the steward's

eye-sight, or had day dawned fifteen minutes later, the error would

have proved fatal. The ship struggled bravely against the gale under

double-reefed topsails, a press of canvas that threatened "to take the

sticks out of her," but she seemed inspirited by the nearness of the

dangerous coast, and when she finally fetched by the Scaw and squared

away across the Cattegat, all on board felt that the question of life

and death was decided in their favor, and cheerfulness and thankfulness

took possession of them. One hundred and fifty vessels and three

hundred lives were reported lost in that gale. That afternoon the ship

took a pilot off the Swedish coast, and proceeding seven miles up the

River Gotha, anchored at Masthugget, a suburb of Gothenburg.

The next day a survey was held and it was decided that the ship must

discharge and be hove down, though the leak was no more than good pumps

could have kept under. Here was a dismal prospect. It was October and

three months must pass before the "Dublin" could be ready for sea

again, and then it would be January, and probably the river would be

frozen over, so that she would be ice-bound till spring. The dreary

looking country and the low unattractive town which was in sight

presented little temptation to a long residence, and great discussions

went on in the forecastle, whether the "old man" would discharge the

crew or not.

By law, sailors discharged from an American ship abroad are entitled to

three months' extra pay, one third of which goes to the Consul. This

made the crew still more anxious to leave and they impatiently awaited

the decision. The Consul, with unusual liberality, told Capt. Streeter

that if his crew wished to be discharged and would at once take passage

in the steamer for England, he might let them go without any extra pay.

The men were a little disappointed at this, but were so dissatisfied

with the ship that they preferred to leave on these terms, and were

accordingly paid off and took the steamer for Hull, England. As they

passed the "Dublin" on their way down the river they waved their hats

and one of them shouted "Bad luck to the old hooker."

One evening in New Diep, old Harry went into the between decks on some

duty, and as it was rather dark there he fell through the hatchway into

the hold and broke his right arm. Captain Streeter was too economical

to employ a doctor, and too strict a disciplinarian to allow the sailor

to go on shore to see one; he also believed that he knew more than all

the medical fraternity put together. He therefore set the bone himself,

but did it so badly that the arm was nearly useless after the bones

had knit. Harry was very downhearted about it, for now he could no

longer ship as an able seaman and, as usual, when he was discharged

at Gothenburg he sought relief from his sorrows in drink. In a few

days he was picked up in the gutter, one cold morning, penniless and

almost naked. The United States Consul kindly gave him some clothes,

and wished him to accept a very serviceable coat which had belonged to

his coachman. But the sailor said: "Old Harry is an old man-o'-wars-man

and he can't wear a coachman's coat. Cut those big buttons off and I'll

take it." In his buttonless coat he was put on board the steamer for

England and disappeared.

One Sunday I went up to Gothenburg, in one of the little steam launches

that ply up and down the river. In the evening after my return I told

the mate of my visit; and after hearing my description of the city, he

said:

"I wish you'd been aboard this afternoon when Capt. Mann of the brig

"Hong Kong" was down in the cabin, visiting the old man. They talked

so loud I couldn't help hearing all they said, though I didn't listen.

You know you told me Capt. Streeter never commanded a vessel before he

had this one; but if you had heard his yarns, you'd have learned that

he's had charge of a whole fleet of ships, and he had such a great

reputation that the Emperor of Russia wanted him to command one of his

"cravats," as he called it, but I suppose he meant corvettes. He told

the Emperor that if he took charge of her, the first thing he'd do

would be to run her into action and get the crew killed off, in order

to make room for true-born Americans--the only men who could get two

ideas in their heads without bursting. The Emperor didn't like this

plan of disposing of his subjects very well, but he knew that Capt.

Streeter was such a smart man that he still urged him to accept, until

the affair ended by the captain telling him he wouldn't take one of his

ships if he'd give her to him.

"That wasn't the yarn I started to tell you though. Capt. Streeter said

that he commanded the ship "Seaman's Bride." (I'm pretty sure he's

been second mate of her). He was loading teas at Shanghae on owners'

account, and they wrote to him to make the quickest passage home he

possibly could, and not to spare either spars, sails or rigging. In

eighty-four days after leaving Shanghae he dropped anchor off the

Battery; the quickest passage ever made. He had carried away a set of

top-gallantmasts, sprung the fore topmast, mainmast-head, and fore and

main topsail-yards, and blown away two suits of sails. On discharging

her, they found two of her deck beams broken, five knees started in

the between decks, and four hanging knees in the lower hold broken,

and so on till he ran up a list longer than a bill of repairs on an

underwriter's job. When he got the ship's damages told, he began on

the damages to sailors, and I tell you they were still worse. He

killed two men outright and in New York nineteen men went ashore with

broken heads, all fixed to order by himself, for his mates didn't know

anything, and feared everything in the shape of sailors, and he had to

lick them too. I never heard a man tell a straighter story in my life.

I believe the old man would beat Tom Pepper at a yarn, and they say he

was more than a match for the Old Nick at lying. I'd like to be behind

the door when the match was going on, anyway. I never thought he told

the truth very hard, but I believe now he's forgotten how, if he ever

knew."

"Why," I added, "you know he said himself one day, 'I never tell the

truth except when a lie won't answer,' and I thought he came nearer

telling the truth than usual when he said that."

"My opinion of Capt. Streeter," said the mate, "is that he would be a

thundering rascal if he dared to be, but he hasn't got the pluck, and

he tries to get the credit of it by making up in lies what he hasn't

courage to do."

"He's a pretty hard man though," said I; "I've seen him handle some

sailors very roughly."

"Hard man," said the mate; "I wish you could have seen the work in some

ships I've been in. What courage does it take for a great two-fisted

fellow like him to handle a single sailor. There was old "Blower

Aiken," who used to keep a bucket full of coal on the poop to heave

at the sailors, and when they were at the main braces, if they didn't

haul hard enough to suit, and it wasn't very often they did, he'd get

up on the after-house, and jump down on top of one of the men, and

then turn to and lick the whole watch. When I was in the packet-ship

"Mountaineer," along with 'Bully Nat Johnson,' I was with what I call a

hard man. If the man at the wheel got the ship a little off her course,

I've seen him pick up a boat-hook and run it through the man's cheek,

and keep him standing at the wheel till his trick was done.

"We were coming home from Liverpool once, and went out of the North

Channel; but then the wind came from the northward and blew a living

gale. This brought the Irish coast on our lee, and the 'old man'

carried sail pretty hard to claw off. Our fore-topsail blew all to

ribbons, and while we were up bending another, a boy fell off the lee

yard arm. Only the man next to him noticed him, and it was blowing so

hard he could not make any one hear to windward. The mate, who was on

deck, saw it, and beckoned to me to come down. (I was third mate of

her). When I got on deck, he told me what had happened, and he had just

thrown a rope which the boy had got hold of; for the ship of course was

only just drifting. We tried to haul him in, but when he was nearly up,

he slipped his hold and fell into the water. He floated aft, and caught

hold of the main chain-plates; and just as I was going to get a rope

round him the old man yelled out to me: 'Go up on that fore-topsail

yard.'"

"'There's a boy overboard, sir,'" said I.

"'I don't care,' said he; 'let him help himself. If we don't get that

fore-topsail bent we'll all be lost.'"

"While I stopped for this talk, a sea had washed the boy away, so I

went up aloft.

"The sailors were so frightened at the force of the gale and flapping

of the remnant of the old sail that they had all laid in off the yard,

and wouldn't go out again. The old man came up and kicked them, and

jumped on their heads as they stood in the rigging and top, but they

wouldn't stir, and at last the second mate and I crawled out on the

weather yard arm, and he lashed me on to the yard with a gasket, and

then I cut away the old sail and hauled out the head of the new one,

for the men came out when they found some one to take the weather

earing.

"Old Johnson is dead now. They called him one of the smartest men that

sailed out of New York, and he could always command his own wages, but

I guess old Jimmy Squarefoot is putting him over the road now for--four

bells! you don't say an hour's gone a'ready; you must want to turn in."

The cargo was discharged into lighters and stored on shore. Then the

"Dublin" was hauled into the shipyard and her inmates, captain, two

mates, cook and steward moved to boarding houses on shore. The ship

was hove down on her side, caulked and sheathed, and all day long we

stood on the rafts alongside and went through the form of watching the

workmen. We had a vacation from the captain's society in the evening,

except when I had to go up to his lodgings and write his business

letters for him.

The beginning of January found the ship again loaded and ready for sea,

only waiting for sailors, who were very scarce; partly so, because the

captain had told so many fighting stories in the ship-chandlers' stores

that the bad reputation the old crew had given the vessel had been

confirmed and increased. The river froze over, and though a channel

was kept open by steamers, this might be expected to close any night,

and unless the ship desired to remain until spring it was time for her

to leave. So she was towed down to an outer harbor through seven miles

of ice and in a few days the captain joined her with a crew of young

Swedes--no old sailors being willing to join the vessel. The river was

now frozen entirely over, and even in this harbor ice had formed for

two miles out amongst the islands towards the sea. Accordingly the

captain made a bargain with the fishermen of the place to break out

the ship, and they assembled in force with their ice boats. These were

built with sharp bows which the men lifted and struck upon the ice,

and as it gave way they jumped on to the boat. When a space had been

cleared ahead of the ship, her fore-topsail was set, and she crashed

along until brought up by the firm ice, when the boats again went to

work while the ship held on by a line toggled into the ice astern. In

this way we worked all of one day, and at its sunset found ourselves in

open water; then we made sail and steered to the westward, delighted to

be at last homeward bound.

Ten out of fifteen of the crew could not speak English and most of

them were young men and very poor sailors. But they were "willing" and

well disposed, and the knowledge of Swedish I had acquired in the long

winter evenings enabled me to work ship with them quite easily.

The captain had not improved his opportunity to master the language,

and it nearly drove him distracted when the men ran to the wrong end

of the ship to execute an order. He tried on his "tantrums" at first,

and issued his volleys of curses and blackguardism from the top of the

after-house, but the sailors only turned and stared at him with their

mouths open in wonder. He gave this up after awhile and we had quite a

peaceable passage.

The ship made good headway in spite of this, and soon again passed

Fair Island and the inevitable boat-load of beggars, and commenced

battling with the Atlantic. Lat. 60° N. in the month of January is

not a very agreeable locality to sail in, and gales of wind were

frequent visitors. We were about half way across the ocean, when one

evening the captain, anxious to finish his passage, was "carrying on"

to the ship with the double-reefed topsails, steering west, with the

wind north. The ship was thus right in the trough of the sea and as

it blew a fresh gale, and the seas were beginning to roll higher and

higher, the men cast many uneasy glances to windward. At a little

before eight o'clock, while the watch was pumping ship, a sea broke

on board forward, and breaking down the bulwarks and tearing away the

water-casks from their lashings, swept aft, and catching up the crew

at the pumps carried them down into the lee scuppers. As I was washing

about with the surges of the water I at first thought I was overboard,

but after awhile managed to get on my feet and was pleased to find the

deck still under them. Half a dozen men were standing up to their necks

in water howling Swedish exclamations, declaring they had broken arms

and legs and so on, and when I got around to windward the moon broke

out through the clouds and showed a scene of the greatest confusion.

Boat, spars, and ropes had been washed off the house, and the decks

were piled up with the _debris_ of water-casks and bulwarks. As soon

as the frightened sailors could be got to work sail was reduced, and

upon surveying the damage done, it was found that the ship's stem was

started away from the "wood ends" and the water must be pouring into

the hold. Some hands at once were set to work to prepare for throwing

overboard cargo from the fore-hatch and the rest sent to the pumps. To

the great relief of all, the noble pumps that had been furnished in

Gothenburg worked splendidly and freed the ship from water. As soon as

the mate could get time he began to count the men, fearing that some

had been washed overboard, and failing to make out the number he took a

look into the forecastle and discovered five sailors snugly ensconsed

in their bunks. When they spied the mate they all began to groan and

cry, and upon inquiry he learned that one had broken his back, two had

broken legs, and the other two broken arms. He called the captain, who

made a hasty examination which convinced him they were more frightened

than hurt, and he said: "I'll give you all just five minutes to get out

on deck, and if you ai'n't out in that time I'll come in and drive you

out with a handspike." This threat brought the broken legs and arms

into action and they all made their appearance within the prescribed

time, somewhat bruised but none of them seriously injured.

Two days after this the water was quite smooth and the captain desired

to do something to stop the leak forward, which kept the pumps going

nearly all the time. It was necessary for some one to go over the bow

in a "bow-line," and as the weather was cold and the person would dip

in the water, it was an unpleasant as well as a dangerous task. The

captain disliked to order any one to do it, but the mate volunteered

to the work. A bed-quilt was cut up into long strips, and being

lowered down over the bow in the bight of a rope with a stick, the

mate proceeded to stuff the quilt into the open seam and then nailed

canvas over it down to the water's edge. At every dip he was nearly

submerged in the cold waves, but manfully did his work until the last

nail was driven, and then the hammer dropped from his benumbed hand and

he was drawn on board thoroughly chilled. He was taken to the cabin

and treated to a stiff drink of whiskey. He soon recovered from the

immediate effects of his exposure, though for some time after he felt

the drain it made on his powers of endurance. The leak was reduced one

half by his labors and he was regarded as a hero.

All felt very anxious upon approaching the coast, fearing to encounter

heavy weather while the ship was in this crippled condition. But in

spite of our hopes the gales were destined to come.

A few days after this, another gale set in at midnight, and at one

o'clock in the morning all hands were called to double-reef the

topsails. It was a dark, wild night, blowing hard with rain and sleet,

and very cold. The crew were so worn out with exposure they were not

very lively, and we were an hour and a quarter before we got below

again. In reefing the fore-topsail we were aloft twenty minutes, the

sail being wet and stiff and the yard not being properly braced to the

wind so as to "spill" the sail. The captain swore we had been up there

two hours, and said he would see if the main-topsail couldn't be worked

quicker. He got his rope's end, and at the order "lay aloft," he flew

around the deck and beat every man into the rigging; then he followed

them aloft, thrashing at every one he reached. When they laid out on

the yard, he walked out to each yard arm holding on to the top-gallant

studding-sail booms, which were triced up, and beat each man over the

head and shoulders. Standing in the maintop he struck at each sailor

as he passed down. We were five minutes longer than we had been at the

fore-topsail, but the captain flattered himself he had hurried matters.

In memory, this dark night, the fierce storm, the cold blinding sleet,

the weak and disheartened crew and the worst storm of rage, curses and

blows from the captain, form an abiding impression of a demoniacal

event.

The ship was so deep her decks were always wet, and seas broke over her

continually when the wind attained to any force. Even if protected with

oil-clothing a sea would often knock one down and soak him. To stand on

deck four hours in a cold, stormy night, soaked to the skin and with

boots saturated and partly filled with water, makes one's life seem to

be oozing away. No wonder sailors are short-lived; sea exposure and

shore degradation soon use them up!

When about in the longitude of Cape Sable we took a fresh southerly

gale with warm rainy weather, and the same afternoon it suddenly

hauled to the north-west, increasing in force, and the weather

becoming very cold. The wet sails froze so stiff that it was with the

greatest difficulty that the crew could furl them, and while trying to

close-reef the fore-topsail five of the men had their hands frozen and

with difficulty got safely on deck. The "Dublin" had the old-fashioned

whole topsails and it was a dreadful job to handle them. The plan of

making two handy sails out of one large one as in the "Howe's Rig,"

which is now almost universally adopted, is one of the greatest

blessings of the age to the mariner, and yearly saves numbers of lives

and a vast amount of hardship. Some of the men, whose hands were

frozen, restored the circulation by rubbing them in the icy water which

washed over the deck, but two of them were disabled, and upon arrival

in port had to submit to the amputation of some of the fingers and

toes. I had both hands frozen, but soon thawed them out in the cold sea

water.

The ship was now hove to on the starboard tack, the gale was blowing

fiercely, and ice making on the ship. The clothes of the men were

frozen upon them, and when the watch was ordered to go below I took the

last dry clothes I had from my chest and turned into my bunk. I was

only just going to sleep, when above the noise of the gale sounded the

rustling and slatting of the fore-topsail, which had blown adrift, and

then came the mate's cry, "all hands ahoy! Rouse out here and furl the

fore-topsail." This was a moment of real hardship, and it required a

great deal of heroism to spring from one's bunk and face the freezing

gale aloft. I confess I shirked duty and waited for a second call,

which fortunately did not come. A few sailors soon appeared on deck,

and the rest too much terrified or too irresolute to meet the harsh

duty were dragged out of their bunks by the mate and driven aloft, with

threats of blows from a handspike he carried in his hands.

For fifteen minutes the crew battled with the stiff icy sail. Again and

again they had it gathered up and the blast would sweep it from their

benumbed hands, but finally the gaskets were passed around it and the

order was given to "lay down." The sailors then turned in and rolled

themselves up in their blankets to try one phase of a sailor's life,

"turn in wet and turn out smoking."

All the next day the gale raged with fury, the ice was a foot thick on

deck, and the ropes and rigging were masses of ice. It was impossible

to work ship or make sail and we let her lie and drift to the

southward. The day succeeding, the gale moderated and the thermometer

suddenly started up. Trying the temperature of the water alongside,

we found ourselves in the Gulf Stream. All that day we were employed

drawing up the warm water from alongside, pouring it over the rigging

and beating off the ice. At night we got it sufficiently cleared

to allow us to make sail. Fine weather succeeded and in a few days

we found ourselves on George's Bank. The captain hailed the fishing

schooner, "Eliza A. Proctor," to find out our position, as he was

somewhat distrustful of the accuracy of his chronometer.

"Schooner ahoy!"

"Halloa," answered a shrill voice.

"What is your longitude?"

"We hai'n't got no longitude; we're after fish!"

"How does George's Shoal bear?"

"Nor' West by North."

As we passed the schooner Capt. Streeter discovered that the skipper

was his mate of two voyages previous--Mr. Foster, whom he had

quarrelled with and discharged from the ship in Mobile. The bearing

he gave did not at all agree with the reckoning; the captain had some

misgivings as to the skipper's information and decided not to trust to

it. The schooner "Emporia" afterwards gave us another bearing and when

we sighted Cape Cod we found Foster had deceived us, and given a course

that would have wrecked the ship if it had been followed. He evidently

did it out of spite to his old commander.

Capt. Streeter was weather-wise, and continually prophesied the changes

of the wind. Once when it had been blowing from the north-west for two

or three days, it began to moderate and give evidence that this wind

had had its day. The captain said in the evening: "This wind is about

done now, it will haul around to the eastward, going by the north, or

it may die away calm and haul around by the south." At four in the

morning I called him and told him there was an easterly breeze.

"Which way did it haul?"

"By the north, sir."

"Didn't I tell you so?" said the captain.

The evening we made Cape Cod, the sky began to clear in the westward

and a light breeze came from that direction. "Now," said the captain,

"we are in for it. It's just my luck. It's going to blow a living gale

of wind from the nor'west; we shall be driven off the coast and not

fetch back here for a fortnight." This was rather disheartening and I

couldn't help replying: "If I thought so I wouldn't say it, for I think

we have had quite trouble enough without borrowing any."

"I tell you what it is young man," said the captain, "there's a

difference between borrowing trouble and being weather-wise."

A light westerly breeze blew all the next day. We beat up the bay with

fine weather and off Boston light took the steam-tug "R.B. Forbes,"

which towed us quickly up to Lewis' Wharf, just as the day had ended. I

heard a familiar voice through the darkness, and the ship was no sooner

fast, than I went over the rail and for two days abandoning myself to

the joys of home I tried to forget that there ever was a "Ship Dublin."

Then I visited the ship, and the captain at once inquired "Did you

notice how it blew last night? I knew it was coming; I'm not often

deceived about the weather." I received the compliment of being asked

to make another voyage in the ship and the black eyes snapped at my

rather peremptory refusal.

The owner was offended with me for leaving, and finding that I had

suffered in his good opinion by doing so, I ventured after some days,

to excuse myself by saying just enough about Capt. Streeter to justify

my conduct. He was very indignant, wouldn't allow such a man to sail

for him, but didn't see how he could discharge him just then. He would

tell him to do differently though. One of the partners remarked, "Oh,

they all swear and fight, and Capt. Streeter is the smartest commander

we have ever had."

He sailed again on another Russia voyage with the old instructions to

"use his best efforts to suppress all vice and immorality on board and

promote the welfare of his crew." How he did it the following letter

from Mr. Wright the mate, written from Cronstadt will tell: