knowledge and assurance: "The wind, sir, is strong N.N.W., and
increasing," and as this was the direction in which they were bound,
the captain's mental processes became confused. A strange guttural
sound came from his throat as though there was a struggle going on
between the flesh and the devil. The conflict did not last long, as the
sanctity which he had observed for some days went under. He jumped from
his bunk, seized his boot which lay hard by, flung it at the poor,
fatigued laddie, bellowing out at the same time: "On deck, you darned
young spawn of ----. I've been kept awake by your clatter ever since
you got up." And the boy flew before the hurricane of wrath lest he
should come to grief.
The men asked him the cause of being turned out of the cabin.
"The cause," he said, "is, the old man asked me how the wind was, and
as soon as I told him it was N.N.W. he flung his boot at me and ordered
me on deck for making too much noise. I hadn't been more than a minute
in the cabin after lending a hand to shorten sail. Besides, the old
beast almost hugged me when I told him the wind was west and that we
were off Whitby. Why, he was so pleased he asked me to have a nip of
that gin he keeps under his bed!"
"Did he swear at you?" said one of the seamen.
"Swear?" said the boy, "it wasn't swearing, it was sulphurous."
"Ah," said the sailor, "it's a bad job he's broken out again. There'll
be no more peace until something serious happens. But perhaps a fair
wind might put him right for a bit. I thought the loss of Jack had
knocked all the sulks out of him, and that he had fairly become
religious."
"What are you gadding about, man?" said Matt, the mate; "how do you
expect anybody to keep religious with the wind N.N.W. and bound north,
with the prospect of being driven back to Burlington Bay or perhaps
Yarmouth Roads? And besides," continued this theological authority,
"sailors are allowed to swear when anything goes wrong, and the old man
is only taking advantage of his rights. You make no mistake; he cannot
read or write--no more can I for that matter--but he knows a thing or
two when it comes to law or religion." Thus spake the loyal,
well-informed Matthew.
After a few days' hard buffeting against a biting head-wind, the vessel
arrived at the port to which she was bound, and after she was moored
and everything made trim, running gear coiled round the belaying pins,
every bight being regular and equal, sails stowed in a cloth, and yards
laid perfectly square, the sailors then proceeded to arrange themselves
in spotless white fustian trousers and blue jerseys adorned in front
with their names or initials worked in red or white worsted. The latter
article of apparel was usually knit by their wives if they were
married, or their intended wives if they were not, and in either case
there was great competition in producing the very best work both of art
and serviceableness. They then packed their clothes in canvas bags and
carried them home on their shoulders. There was considerable emulation
not only in the neatness of the packing and the cleanness of the bags,
but the arrangements for fastening the mouth of the bag took weeks to
fashion into a very pretty piece of sailorising. These things may seem
small and frivolous, unworthy indeed of being referred to as even a
characteristic of the sailor of that locality and of that period. I do
not know anything that came under the lash of such severe criticism as
the sailor's own fashion of dress, and it must not be imagined that it
was confined to the sailors themselves, though they were merciless
enough with each other, but the owners and the public generally took
the keenest interest in these little touches of vanity and handiwork.
Many a worthy fellow got a good berth because he and his belongings had
the stamp of ingenuity and tidiness about them, and certainly many of
them knew that this was a sure means of winning the affections of young
girls whom they wished to make their wives.
These young maidens who resided in this interesting little seaport town
knew almost by instinct whether a vessel was kept smart or not; neither
those who were married nor those who were single liked either their
husbands or sweethearts to be associated with an ill-kept vessel. If
they read anything at all it was what the newspapers said about
shipping, or as a matter of religious devotion they might perchance
read an occasional chapter in the Bible, so that their mental energy
found a ready outlet in the gossip of things appertaining to their
daily life and immediate surroundings, which for the most part were
nautical, although I must not overlook the fact that many of the more
intelligent of them were connected with religious institutions. These
were mostly Dissenters, Wesleyan Methodists, Primitives and
Presbyterians. The Church of England had not at that time become the
evangelical force that it may be considered to-day. I am not sure to
which of these sects Captain Bourne belonged, but amongst every class
there was a widespread sympathy extended to him on his arrival at the
home port. The news of his son having come to so untimely an end moved
the little community so that condolences came to him from many
unexpected quarters. Dignified owners shared with the common sailor and
apprentices their ungrudging sympathy, and he received it with
transparent gratitude. All his gruff mannerisms were forgotten in the
sorrow of the moment. The poor lad who had passed so suddenly into the
valley of death was looked upon as a promising captain in embryo, and
there was much speculation as to the deeds he would have accomplished
and the high position he would have attained had the sea not claimed
him so soon. All this and a good deal besides was spoken to the
sorrowing parents by way of ameliorating their suffering, and also
because the occasion was opportune for speaking that which they really
believed would have come to pass. Little did the people or the object
of their compassion think that at the very time they were saying those
encouraging words destiny was fulfilling another tragedy, and the sea
had again become the tomb of a bonny, bright, promising youth who had
not reached his seventeenth year. The _Cauducas_ had been in port
for a couple of weeks and was on the point of sailing, when news came
that Captain Bourne's second son had been washed overboard and drowned
from the vessel he was serving aboard of. The presentiment that this
would happen had been overshadowed by the interest taken in the loss of
the eldest boy. When the news was broken to him, a sullen, stupefied
gaze came into his eyes. He murmured a few incoherent words, and then
with a superhuman effort he raised his voice, and with emphasis that
was terrible as well as pathetic he called out: "Oh, God, what have I
done to You that You should allow this thing to be done to me? I have
had two bonny lads taken from me within a month of each other. Oh, God,
help me to bear the trial like a man!"
This fine old sailor, believed he was holding communion with a personal
power of British nationality that could sway the universe at His will.
He believed, though he could not see Him, that God was a person that
kept Himself out of sight for a purpose, and that it was the duty of
every Englishman to keep on good terms with Him. The mystery of
divinity never entered his head. It was a simple, steadfast faith,
peculiar if you like, but unyielding in devotional loyalty to His
supremacy. It was a wonderful phenomenon, which even cynical logicians
might have found embarrassing to their iconoclastic notions could they
have witnessed it. Here was an uncultured though magnificent-looking
person passing through a sorrowful tribulation, exciting the pity and
calling for the admiration of hundreds of his fellow creatures, because
he was able to hold his head up and appeal to the only power he knew
that was capable of giving him consolation and courage. "Oh, God, help
me to bear the trial like a man!" That was the melancholy burden of his
petition, and the assurance that it would be answered never forsook
him.
His vessel was soon ready for sea, and sailed on the first of a series
of voyages that were contracted for her to run. On the completion of
these he was asked by his owner to take command of a barque of about
600 tons deadweight. To an ordinary man and to the average shipmaster
of that time, the opportunity of being shifted from an old rattle-trap
brig to the enviable position of commander of a "South Spainer" would
have been accepted with excessive pride and gratitude; but Bourne was
not an ordinary man. He had spent a long life as master of a vessel on
which he had placed his affections, so that the more urgent the owner
became for him to take advantage of the offer of much higher wages and
greater dignity, the more tenaciously he clung to the belief that some
serious judgement would befall him if he were ungrateful and disloyal
enough to forsake the brig that had carried him for more than a quarter
of a century across many a wrathful sea. "No," said he, "I must end my
days in the canny ship. Her and me have had a lot to do with each
other, and I would never forgive myself if I were to agree to this
request, and some useless fellow were to put her ashore on a bank or on
the rocks, and she became a total wreck. Besides, if anything were to
happen I could not rest in my grave."
"Well," said the owner, "I appreciate your high motives, and also the
strong regard you have shown for a vessel that has made me so much
money; and I must not forget to say that but for your skill and care in
conducting the business, and also in the navigation, the results would
have been very different. It is because of these and other sterling
qualities that you possess that I ask you to consider favourably the
offer I have made. You know how badly the _Grasshopper_ has done, and I
feel that you are the only man that can pull her out of the bad mess
she is in. Sleep over it."
Bourne slept over it, and informed the owner the next day that the ship
was far too big for him, but as the change was urged he must leave the
final decision to the owner, always bearing in mind that he wished to
remain where he was. The owner availed himself of the old mariner's
flexible state of mind by promptly taking him at his word. And he
forthwith became the object of notoriety. There had been not a few
aspirants to this enviable position, and much speculation as to whether
Bourne would ultimately be persuaded to take it or not. Of course it
was vigorously hoped he would not, and when the announcement in the
affirmative was made there were sundry disappointments. The predictions
were of a gloomy character. Forebodings that the new commander would
never be able to handle so large a ship became the prevalent idea, for
he had never been in a vessel carrying more than about 250 tons. It was
an open secret that Captain Bourne had misgivings of a similar kind
himself. He feared, indeed, that she might run away with him. He
apprehended that his capacity to handle a vessel of a different rig
from that to which he had been accustomed all his life might prove
defective. Many of his contemporaries, as well as he himself, held very
contracted and primitive ideas as to size. They talked of vessels of
400 tons burden as being large, and those of six to seven or eight
hundred were described as leviathans.
Captain Bourne showed signs of depression from the time his belongings
were taken from the object of his devotion. He felt he was parting from
a life-long friend. A Board of Trade certificated chief mate was
engaged to act as "nurse." The crew were signed on, stores shipped, and
after the cargo was all aboard, the _Grasshopper_ crossed the bar amid
much cheering from the people who lined the quays and piers. Moreover,
the occasion was of more than usual interest, for Captain Bourne had
never been off the coast during his whole life. After the tug and pilot
left, a course was shaped towards the hidden mysteries that lay across
the sea. The passage was made quickly, but not without mishap, for the
vessel had struck on a reef of rocks, and it was thought her false keel
and copper had received considerable damage. From the time the vessel
left the port of loading the captain had been little seen. It was well
known that a morbid brooding had taken complete possession of him. He
rarely came to his meals, and when he did he never spoke except to
murmur some words of endearment about the old ship he had been
persuaded to leave. The stranding of his new command was interpreted as
a judgement sent to him for the wrong he had committed in giving way to
pride by forsaking the craft that had carried him so many years in
safety. On his arrival in port several friends paid him a visit, and
were struck with his changed appearance. The mates and steward said
they had observed that there was a difference in him, but the passage
had been so wild and eventful they had never had time to think of it.
After the first two or three days his business visits ashore became
very irregular, and before the cargo was discharged they had ceased
altogether. He was seldom seen either below in his cabin or on deck. He
could not be induced to take his meals regularly, and took to shutting
himself up in his stateroom. A dangerous form of melancholia held him
in fetters, so that when friendly visitors called to see him his
reclusive mood forbade any intercourse with even men who knew him
intimately.
There was much speculation as to the cause of this morbid determination
to abstain from food and from having communication with anyone.
Naturally, drinking was freely attributed to him, but this was stoutly
denied by every one of the crew. His mate and steward were of opinion
that he was fretting badly about having to leave the old brig; and this
had led him to think more than he would have otherwise done of the loss
of his boys and the stranding of his vessel. Each day saw a change for
the worse, until the mate became alarmed by evidences of total
collapse. He determined to see the master of a steamer who was in port
and knew Bourne well enough to do what would have been resented as a
great liberty in another man. This captain insisted that he would not
stand the humbug of asking to be allowed to see Bourne, so he boldly
went aboard, knocked at the stateroom door, and demanded admittance. On
this being refused, he proceeded to force the entrance, and presented
himself before the amazed inmate with quite a string of strong
adjectives for the bad behaviour in not reciprocating his
neighbourliness.
"What are you lying there fretting your soul out for?" said the burly
commander; "get up and come ashore with me and pull yourself together.
You owe a duty to your owner, your wife, and yourself. You're not going
to mend matters by moping and refusing to take natural exercise and
food!"
"Ah," said Captain Bourne, "I will never set my foot ashore again. I am
very near the end, and I will be glad when it comes. Tell the owner as
soon as I am gone that I have never been myself since I acted so bad in
leaving my bonny little ship that did so much for me." And putting his
hand to his breast, he added: "I have felt queer and sore here ever
since. I hope God will forgive me, but I was sure my sin would find me
out; and here I am, a poor shrivelled-up man, anxious to get away from
earth and to be with my drowned boys. The parson told me I would meet
them in a better world to this, and so I want to get to it as quick as
I can, for all the pleasure was taken out of my life when I consented
to come here. I haven't been very bad, and always was as good as I
could to God. Sometimes I've sworn when anything went wrong, but I
never meant any harm in it. Besides, they say that sailors' swearing is
not like other people's."
His friend urged him in a rollicking manner to take a more cheerful
view of his position.
"There are many," said he, "who would give worlds to have command of so
fine a vessel."
"Let them have it, then," said Bourne; "but I was content to end my
days in the old ship. That was glory enough for me, and they (meaning
his owner and his friends) would not let me do it."
Captain W---- shook him warmly by the hand, and promised to call
again.
Bourne murmured: "I may never see you again. I feel the end is very
near. My general health is good, but what ails me is a sore heart. Tell
them, W----, if I should die before seeing you again, that I trusted in
God and His Son, that the parsons say preached the gospel of sorrow. My
cup is full of that. So that I would be satisfied to meet death
willingly could I catch but one glimpse before it comes of the ship
that has been my home all my life, brought up my bairns, and kept a
comfortable abode ashore for me."
His friend parted from him with a sad heart, believing that no earthly
power could save him, for he saw that he was encompassed by the shadow
of doom, and that the triumph of death would soon overtake him.
The following morning the _Grasshopper_ ensign flew half-mast. Poor
Bourne had passed the portal beyond which he was to find peace. His
last message to his mate and steward were: "I shall soon be dead. Say
'so long' for me to my wife and the owner. Tell them my heart broke,
for I could not bear the loss of my boys and the parting from the canny
little brig. Tell them I bear no ill-will to anybody, and that I expect
to meet them beyond the river in a better land."
These words were the last spoken by the grief-stricken old mariner, who
in the plenitude of his manhood would have scorned the idea of openly
giving way to emotion. His officers sat by him until he quietly slipped
his moorings.
III
CAPTAIN MACGREGOR
Captain Alexander Macgregor, as his name betokens, was a Scotchman, who
had left his native land with credentials which gave him the reputation
of being not only learned but one of the most expert mariners that ever
walked a quarterdeck. For many years he had traded to all parts of the
world in command of various sized vessels owned in Scotland, and had
earned the confidence of his employers by the deeds he had accomplished
in making them large profits. His old owner was perturbed when it
became known that his services had been sought for elsewhere, and
secured, owing to monetary inducements such as no worthy Scot could
refuse, for Scottish shipmasters at that time were shockingly paid. His
advent to English employment was not regarded favourably by the men who
claimed that vessels belonging to that particular port should be
commanded by men of the port, native born or reared into seamen by the
matchless skill of the generation of local sailors that preceded them.
He was looked upon as an interloper who had come to take bread from
their mouths. But what concerned them as much as anything was their
dread of a lower standard, which might lose for them the premier
position which they ostentatiously declared was theirs, of breeding and
rearing skilful, hardy men. The gentleman whom they held responsible
for the unwarrantable innovation carried on a nourishing trade in the
dual capacity of miller and shipowner. He came across Macgregor when on
a visit to one of his vessels which was discharging at a Scottish port,
and became fascinated by his bright, cheery intelligence. A bargain was
struck and he forthwith took command of Mr Hobkirk's finest craft. The
prejudice formed by this unpatriotic act had far-reaching consequences,
which were never really effaced. The community regarded it as another
proof of English generosity and Scottish unscrupulous pushfulness of
character which worms its way into the affairs of men and captures all
the blessings of earth and heaven at the expense of their neighbours.
"We suppose," said these proud men of the sea, "he has been brought
here to teach us something. We will let him see what he has come to.
His life shall be made not worth living, and the miserable traitor who
has put him over our heads shall be made to feel that we don't want any
Scottish instruction. His great seamanship must be tested, and as to
learning, what do we care for learning? This is not our business. We
want sailors, not learning."
This piece of shrewd eloquence was noisily applauded by the affected
persons, who felt convinced that their birthright had been stolen from
them. Meanwhile the object of their aversion showed qualities of genius
that caused Mr Hobkirk to marvel at his own inherent instinct which
had enabled him to fix on so distinguished a prodigy. Some of his
shipowning friends were struck with what they called his cleverness,
and asked him to convey to them his secret for finding a person so
unlike the ordinary shipmaster. He bowed his head low in token of
submission, and almost in a whisper conveyed to them the belief that he
was the instrument of divine Providence. The seamen and skippers of the
port did not hold the same view as the owner, so they set themselves to
make it very difficult for Macgregor to get a crew, and had he not been
an astute man of affairs, great loss and inconvenience would have
ensued. The local union was very strong, very active and intensely
popular. All its official machinery was thrown into the policy of
obstruction, and all its efforts were abortive, for the _Hebe_ was
towed out of port with a full crew in spite of a continual shower of
stones and other missiles.
Amongst this notorious crew was one named Ralph Davidson, a half-witted
young fellow who had served two apprenticeships without being able to
qualify for the dignity of A.B., that is, he could not pass the
necessary examination for admittance into the union. This poor creature
was permitted to sail as "half-marrow" or ordinary seaman because of
his local origin and good natured simplicity. Otherwise the very
mention of half-marrow was loathed, and no amount of persuasion could
induce these men and lads to tolerate a stranger in that capacity. I
commend the ideal to present-day sailors and shipowners. The British
Merchant Service would be all the better by going back to this old-time
method of keeping up the standard of proficiency. Ralph had all the
characteristic weaknesses of the sailor. He was a much-sought-after
institution at all the public house dances while at home, and was not
averse to either accepting a glass of whiskey or giving one when he had
the wherewithal to do it, but that was rarely. He spent much of his
meagre earnings and time in this way, and suffered for it when he was
obliged to go to sea without suitable clothing. Young people of both
sexes were very fond of getting him to do a step-dance or sing a song.
The latter sounded like paying chain cable out of a hawse pipe, and
kept the room in screams of laughter. The _Hebe_ had reached the Bay
of Biscay on her way to Lisbon. A strong south wind was blowing,
accompanied with heavy rain, and the spray flew all over her. Ralph
stood at the wheel shivering, clad in a suit of dungarees. His face
indicated all that he was suffering, and his mutterings attracted the
attention of the captain, who overheard him swearing, "My God, as soon
as I get into port I'll have a suit of oilskins!" In due time they got
into port, and Ralph was the first aft to ask for money to purchase the
water-proof articles. The captain made the advance and reminded him
that he relied on it being spent for the purpose for which it was
intended. He was assured that Ralph's suffering for want of proper
clothing had left an unpleasant recollection on his mind and he did not
intend to suffer in the same way in future. On landing, he was
prevailed upon to go to a grog shop and dance house before making his
purchase. The captain, suspecting that there was not much strength
behind his resolve, dropped into the place of amusement and witnessed
his half-marrow in full swing on the floor. He tapped him on the
shoulder as he waltzed round, and said:
"Didn't you say when the rain and spray were lashing over you in the
Bay of Biscay that you would buy a suit of oilskins as soon as you got
into port?"
"Ah, yes, captain, I said that. But there is no rain and spray lashing
at me now. It's different weather here," replied the irrepressible
sailor as he continued to play his part in the harmony of the evening.