his progress. What could it have been? His fear was terrific; he must
have known that something like a joke had been practised upon him, but
his superstition, together with the consciousness of having committed a
criminal breach of duty, seized the imagination and made him desire to
believe that a supernatural visitation had taken place. He was never
known to sleep on deck again, and such was the shock to his nerves I am
persuaded he did not do a great deal of sleeping below. Whether it was
owing to this or not, the poor fellow never properly regained his
equilibrium; and his judgement, never reliable before, became after
this event a negative quantity. Long years afterwards he used to be
chaffed about it, and stood it very badly. A few months since I chatted
with one of the men who with myself took part in this plot. He still
treasured it as a great diplomatic feat, and laughed immoderately at
the recollection of the poor mate's troubles, and warmly complimented
himself on the success of the enterprise, but added very seriously:
"There is no knowing what might have happened had we all taken to
napping. At the same time I am sure," said he, "this sharp lesson put
_him_ off doing it again, and it may have saved our lives, though, poor
man, he wasn't very much use when left to himself."
Many more experiences not identical but similar to those I have been
relating were crammed into a long passage, which relieved the monotony
of the stereotyped character of everyday life. Day after day, when the
weather was fine, the same kind of work was carried on with unbroken
regularity. In the morning at five-thirty the cook made coffee for the
watch on deck, and at six they commenced to wash bulwarks, decks, etc.
By eight o'clock this was finished. The watch who had to relieve them
were knocked out at seven-thirty, had breakfast and came on deck at
eight o'clock. The duties of these watches varied: If the rigging was
being rattled down, the mate's watch did the fore, while the second
mate's did the main and mizen; or if it were only the fore, main, or
mizen that was being "rattled," the port side was done by the chief
officer's men, and the starboard by the second officer's. There was
great rivalry among the seamen who were selected to do this or any
other skilled work, but only in regard to the quantity done and its
neatness. At times, of course, there was a common understanding that a
certain number of ratlines should be put on. This greatly depended on
the treatment they were receiving. If it was good, no restriction was
arranged, for each tried to excel the other, and this applied to every
department of work. Some of the dodges to evade work may not be written
here; but if it could be done it would reveal a phase of sea life that
has never been put into print. If it were not that our conventions
forbid offending the finer senses it might be written, and thereby show
something more of the really comic side of Jack when he is on the
rampage against constitutional government. There were occasions when
the pride of the British tar was not abashed at being called a dockyard
loafer, but these were rare.
In making a sea passage there was great care taken that no chafing was
going on to the foots of the square sails, nor to the rigging, when the
yards were braced up against it. Hence thrum and sword mats were
constantly being made and laced on in order to obviate the possibility
of a chafe wherever there was a nip. Then the sails had to be kept in
repair. Some sailors were clever with the marline spike: could do all
manner of neat things about the rigging, but they were of no use with
the palm and needle; while there were others who could do anything with
both. Some captains through vanity and ignorance believed it to be
"classy" to keep the men of the afternoon watch below on deck with the
rest, and the sailor who had to take the helm at 6 p.m. was sent to
have tea at five-thirty; the others were kept at it until six. Then the
apprentices had to clear up the decks and sweep them down with a hair
brush. The accumulation of dirt when far away from the centre of mucky
industries has always been a great mystery to seamen. Interminable
allusions were made to the late Mr Edward Cocker, writer, arithmetician
and engraver, as being the only person who could have solved the
problem. The phrase "according" or "not according to Cocker" was
constantly used in connection with matters that the scientist does not
appear to have included in his works, or in any way concerned himself
about. The custom of keeping men up doing their afternoon watch-below
was common though not universal; in fact the shrewd, sensible captain
never did it unless it was a necessity, and it was a rule in all
well-regulated vessels to give Saturday afternoons when at sea (and
even in port when it could be arranged) to the men, in order that they
might do their washing and thereby prevent them doing it on Sundays,
which day was reverently spent by those who could do so in reading and
re-reading letters that had been sent to them from their friends at
home.
Those who have relatives at sea can never estimate to what extent a
well-written, cheery letter is appreciated, and the influence it has in
keeping the recipient out of mischief and in helping him to form good
habits. I cannot sufficiently urge the importance of never allowing a
sailor, no matter what his rank or capacity may be, to feel that he is
being neglected by those of his family whom he desires to believe have
a strong affection for him. I do not urge this exclusively in the
sailor's interest, but also in the interest of those whose duty it is
to keep him well supplied with news of what is going on at home. I have
seen most deplorable results from this thoughtless indifference. There
is nothing the average sailor looks forward to so keenly during a
passage as the receipt of letters from home, and the disappointment of
not receiving any as soon as the vessel arrives has not infrequently
been the cause of irreparable mischief. If the relatives of these men
could only witness the eagerness with which the arrival of the captain
or his agent is watched for each day at noon, in the hope that letters
may have come for them, they would realize how necessary it is to
attend regularly to this phase of domestic life, and how little the
trouble is compared with the joy it gives. On the other hand, I think
if those who do not carry out the behest could see the effect of their
callousness, they might either be frightened or filled with remorse and
pity. But they cannot see it, and the poor fellows are often too
sensitive about showing what would appear to them as feminine weakness,
and so the thing in some cases drifts on, each not knowing the ugly
consequences that are being inflicted on the other, until the climax
inevitably comes and it is found the wreck cannot be repaired. I have
drawn an extreme case, but there are such cases, and it is because I
know of them that I have made the picture emphatic. All manner of
excuses are made, such as being a bad letter-writer, and having so much
to attend to, and "he doesn't reply to my or our letters as he should."
My reply to this nonsense is, never mind whether he reciprocates your
extreme condescension or not. The communication with him should be kept
going, and if letters are bright, chatty, and without a word of
indiscreet reproach for any lack of attention on his part, depend upon
it he will ultimately melt into penitence and become a self-accused
rascal. Of course I have known many cases where unjustifiable cruelty
has been shown by sailors in not writing and in not answering letters
sent to them by their wives, mothers or sisters. They did not really
mean to cause suffering. They merely drifted into a condition of
recklessness which perhaps their environments predisposed them to
without ever reflecting that they owed the same duty to their relatives
as they invariably complained was not being done to themselves.
I am reminded of a beautiful instance of unwavering devotion to a poor,
wayward fellow, who was engaged to serve in the far eastern trade for
three years. At each port the vessel touched at on the way out, letters
were sent home, and every mail took letters to him, so that when he
arrived at the port of discharge quite a batch were received. He wrote
regularly for some months, then his letters began to fall off, and at
last ceased coming altogether. For two years nothing was heard of his
whereabouts except that which was gathered in a mysterious reserved way
at the owners' office, and during the whole of these agonizing months
never a mail went without a letter for him, and never a word of
reproach was uttered or written, though the heart of the little writer
was throbbing with soreness. The shipping newspaper was scanned each
day, and whenever she saw the vessel he had left home in reported, her
hope revived almost to the point of gaiety. Could she have known that
her husband had long since left the vessel whose name she watched so
eagerly, and the sight of which filled her soul with strange emotion,
she might have succumbed to the numbing intelligence. When the weather
was fine she strolled to the white sandy beach that was only a few
minutes' walk from her house, and there she would give herself up to
the luxury of day-dreams. Her fancy was sometimes pleased by the
thought that she could see the wake of the beautiful vessel as it
ploughed through the peaceful ocean. She listened to the gurgle of the
miniature waves until the sigh of the night wind came and reminded her
it was time to go home. These occasions were made memorable by the use
they were put to. Many a subject for a new essay that was to be sent
over the seas found its text on the lonely stretch of sand. Sometimes a
shrewd hint was dropped in by the way that his communications must have
miscarried, and that there was a painful longing to see his handwriting
once again. "I cannot imagine you wilfully or negligently ignoring me,"
said the writer, but she had a grave suspicion that she was being
neglected, and a still graver suspicion that the cause thereof was not
excessive sanctification.
After twenty-four months of roving and of silence, a letter came from
him announcing that he was tired of staying away, and by the time the
letter was received he would be on his way home. He acknowledged having
received a number of letters, and then proceeded in a clumsy way to
make it appear that he _had_ written, and many sanguinary descriptions
as to how some people who were supposed to be concerned in the plot of
withholding his letters had to meet their death at his hands. In due
course he arrived home, but nothing could induce him to be drawn into a
conversation about the missing correspondence. Time had made him more
charitably disposed towards the mythical burglars of his precious
documents, and no more threats were indulged in. The lady did not deem
it wise to raise the question again, and seeing that nothing but harm
could have arisen by doing it, I commend her for the wisdom of resisting
the temptation of an inquiring mind. This woman's long-suffering,
tactful endurance is an example of splendid magnanimity that might be
emulated with advantage by those who may come under the devilish lash
of similar treatment, and who may be prompted by the spirit of
rebellion to make matters worse by indiscreet retaliation. The good
woman won back the loyalty of her poor erring partner by her persistent
gentleness and toleration.
The following is a portion of a letter I have come across, written many
years ago, in which the writer's concern for the spiritual well-being
of her sailor brother is very apparent. She knew that it was letters
such as this that appealed to the susceptible seafarers. I have said it
was their habit to read and re-read their letters every Sunday,
especially if they were of a sentimental or religious character. Much
of this letter is obliterated, as the person to whom it was addressed
tumbled overboard with it in his pocket, and it has crumbled away:
"MY OWN DARLING BROTHER,--I cannot tell you all the joy I feel at
being able to write to you in England again. It has seemed a long
time while you have been away, and yet now, when you are nearly
beside us again, it seems but as yesterday. This may arrive before
you, but still it is happiness to think that your vessel's prow is
turned homeward. Our love and prayers have travelled with you all
the way, and I thank God that you are preserved thus far, and trust
He will bring you safe to us all. I know you will be as glad as we
are, and I know, too, that though it has pleased God to give you
the blessing of that best love of all earthly love, yet you prize
the old ties of home.
* * * * * *
"I think to cherish those who have loved him all his life is not
the least of a man's duties, but I think where the love is, people
don't think about the duty of it at all; it is given and received
as a mutual blessing, for which the heart often rises up in silent
thanksgiving. I trust, my dear, that you are keeping to your
determination to live to God's glory. Don't be discouraged because
of the difficulties of the way; the Bible, which I hope you study,
says, 'Mighty is He that hath promised,' and the whole Book is full
of promises of help to those who are in earnest, and you know if
one is not in earnest even God cannot save us. We must do our part,
and we must work out our own salvation. It is just and right that
it should be so. The glories of heaven, the reward of dwelling for
everlasting in an atmosphere of unspeakable purity, will be no
reward to those who do not value purity and holiness. Those who do
will strive for the reward with all their might, and when our weak
and sinful nature overcomes the powers of evil within and without,
He comes with His promised almighty help if we ask Him for it. How
very tender the words of scripture are when speaking of God's
children! He is the same yesterday, to-day, and for ever. God help
you, my darling, to take this word to yourself.
"With devoted love from us all,
"Your loving
"SISTER."
It must not be taken for granted that the reasons I have enumerated
were the only ones that influenced the sailor not to write. There were
motives that may tax the credulity of the reader, but they existed,
nevertheless. I have served in vessels myself where a large proportion
of the crew would not trust the captain to post any letters for them
owing to the habit of mean peculation that was commonly practised by
some captains in those days of grossly overcharging postage and putting
the proceeds into their own pockets. But that was not the only method
of pilfering from the poor creatures whose wages ranged from L2 15s. to
L3 10s. per month, according to the trade they were engaged in, and
might have a wife and group of children depending on them. The captains
were purveyors of tobacco, and sold it to the crew at profits that far
exceeded the limits of decency. Many of them carried what were known as
slop chests, which comprised every article of apparel the sailors were
accustomed to wear and use: oilskins, sea-boots, suits of dongarees,
jumpers, ducks, dark flannel drawers, stockings, mufflers, mittens,
blue flannel shirts, fustian and pilot cloth trousers, soap, soda,
needles and thread, worsted, knives, and any other thing that was worn
or used and likely to be marketable. It will be readily understood that
men who traded in this way were not particularly anxious to have a
well-fit-out crew at the beginning of a voyage, nor did they repine if
bad weather prevailed at the outset. The worse the weather, the barer
the sailor's kit, the better the market for the captain's commodities.
These slop-chest skippers were perfect terrors to the needy mariner,
and many a physical punishment would be endured so that he might be
saved the ruinous cost of having to buy from his covetous commander,
who was not satisfied with a mere hundred per cent., but regulated his
prices according to the severity of the weather and the demand that
might be made for his goods. These human vultures carried on a
nefarious trade on lines that would have put a Maltese Hebrew to shame.
When the days were radiant with sunshine, and the sea made glassy with
continuous calms, the shrewd sailors who wanted supplies would apply
for them, expecting that they could be had at reduced prices under such
circumstances, but the predatory vendor did not do business on these
occasions; he waited until the poor devils were overcome and punished
by the treacherous icy winds and the mad rush of the waves that tumbled
over them and made their sufferings so acute that they were driven to
ask their captains to supply them with clothing, and the prices charged
were such as to justify the sailors regarding the said captains as the
worst types of usurers. A common phrase of the sailors in referring to
this class of man was that he would not hesitate to rob "Jesus Christ
of his shoe-strings." I have heard these nautical clothiers boast of
how they had worked the oracle so that the wretched men who served
under them would be obliged to come and on their knees beg that they
might be forgiven for not taking the articles when offered, and that
they might have them now when they had seen their error. Of course only
the wasters would put themselves in any such position. A captain who
traded in this way had a right to cover himself for the risk he ran,
but it was a wicked imposition to charge more than a reasonable profit
for clothing, tobacco, or postages. In settling up at the end of a
voyage, the overcharges were frequently contested, and I have known
cases where a substantial reduction was enforced. The rate of exchange
at which the advances to the crew abroad were worked was invariably one
that realized a profit to the captain and caused grave suspicion that a
petty theft was being committed. Captains used to brag that they made
as much as their wages came to by the sales from their slop-chests and
tobacco. Judging from the amount of trade done and prices charged, I
can quite believe this.
One of the most mischievous customs of that period was that of giving
grog to sailors on Saturday nights, and whenever sail had to be
shortened or any extra work done, and many a drunkard was made thereby.
What suffering, what untold misery has been wrought by this damnable
custom! The lives that have been sacrificed, the property damaged, and
vessels lost by having grog aboard, and by captain and officers
imbibing it and serving it out to the others with too generous a hand,
can never be estimated. Much of the calamity that has occurred, and
does yet occur, at sea could and can be traced to its direct use, and
the unutterable grief and ruin it has brought into many a fine sailor's
home is an odious testimony to those who put temptation in their way
and perhaps encourage the use of it for their own benefit. A poor lad
whom I knew many years ago acquired the taste for drink aboard the
vessel he served in. She was what is called by sailors a grand
grog-ship. He was assisting to discharge cargo, and in the middle of
the forenoon the bottle was passed round. Being a general favourite
with everybody, especially with the steward, whom he was always ready
to give assistance to in many little ways, he jokingly asked him for "a
good second mate's nip," a phrase which means that the rum or other
spirits had to be three fingers up from the bottom of the tumbler
glass. It was never doubted that the steward gave him a good deal more
than the regulation quantity, for he became very lively soon after.
Just at the time grog was served, empty waggons ran short, and the crew
were ordered to do odd jobs. The poor lad was sent to the fore topmast
head to splice a new lanyard into the main royal stay. He had done
this, and was setting the stay up when the marline spike must have
slipped out of the hitch in the lanyard. Suddenly the song he was
singing ceased; a jerky, nervous shout attracted attention to what had
happened; then the hush of anguish seized the horror-stricken
spectators who watched the tragedy, and soon all was over. He tumbled
backwards, and the sails all being loosened to air them and the topsail
yard at the mast head, he fell over it, broke his fall on the foreyard,
clutched at the reef points of the foresail, and then tumbled headfirst
into the jolly-boat which lay at the bow, and was smashed to pieces.
When the body was taken out of the boat it was seen that the flesh of
his hands had been torn off by the clutch he made at the reef points.
The crew of this vessel was supplied with alcohol with the specific
object of getting them to work hard at the discharging of the cargo. In
plain language the owners or masters gave no thought to the personal
effect of the custom so long as it did not interfere with their
material interests, but should their policy cause the man to imbibe on
his own account and commit a breach of discipline, or to be temporarily
absent from work, he was punished with shameful severity, and in this
the master or owner was encouraged both by written and unwritten laws.
No account was taken of how far the employer was responsible in having
helped his employee to form habits by which the law was broken. The
poor lad who lost his life might have done so anyhow; but the
impression that has been fixed on my mind is that the cause of his
tragic death lay at the door of those who gave him the second mate's
nip.
The unrestrained appetite of the old sailing ship seamen for doing
something ridiculous was a problem that even those closely associated
with them could never solve. When their minds were bent towards a freak
they plunged into it regardless of consequences. The more daring the
adventure the more enjoyment they got out of it. On a memorable
occasion long ago, several ships' crews went ashore in a foreign port
on leave, and at a late hour they were returning aboard their
respective ships. Some were half seas over, and others badly sprung,
but all seem to have been smitten with the idea of reckless mischief.
Sentries were stationed along the banks of a river that Byron has sung
of. They were not supposed to allow any one to pass without a permit,
and as the seamen were not in the temper to brook coercion of this
kind, they came into conflict with each other. One of the sentries
struck a sailor, who attempted to pass the line, with his bayonet. This
was the beginning of a carnival of lawlessness. The tars were maddened
by the attempt to slay their comrade, and a wild rush was made upon
several of the soldiers. They were promptly overpowered, disarmed, and
their muskets used in disarming their friends who were panic stricken
by the vigorous onslaught, and soon succumbed to Jack's bellicose
persuasiveness. It then became an easy task to carry out the impromptu
plan of campaign of putting each soldier into his sentry-box and
casting both him and the box into the running stream. The call for help
was unavailing; none came, and soon no voices were heard, but the
following day the funeral knell was sounded by the roar of the cannon
from the gunboats, splashing shot into the river with the hope that the
vibration would resurrect the bodies of the victims from their muddy
tomb. Many of them were brought to the surface by this means.
Jack is said to have thought it a great joke, and it must be admitted
there is a grim humour in the cool audacious method of disposing of the
human obstacles which stood in his way. No argument, however eloquent,
could convince them that a murderous act had been committed. Their idea
was that no b----y foreigner had any right to question the good
intentions of a British sailor or to intercept his perambulations
either drunk or sober. Pageantry and armed force did not appeal to
them, but a kind word and an expressed desire to escort them aboard
their ship would have caused them to fall on the neck of even a foreign
soldier in adoration. The thirst for joviality often led wayward
sailors to crave for drink, and under its baneful influence they were
easily wafted into a delirium of foolhardy devices that would never
have entered the mind of the ordinary mortal.
A large barque was once in mid-ocean homeward bound, and was beating
against strong head-winds under whole topsails, courses, lower
staysails, and jib. It was the starboard watch on deck from eight p.m.
until midnight. The captain had retired for the night and left the
second mate in charge. His watch, with the exception of one man, was
composed of as fine a brood of young athletes as ever ran aloft. They
were on the most friendly terms with their officer, whose genial
disposition led him to converse with them. I daresay he was attracted
by their boisterous cordiality. Be that as it may, he either winked at
or encouraged the successful negotiations that were devised to induce
the steward to invade the grog locker, which was situated beneath the
captain's bed, and bring from it the jar which contained whiskey. At
first Jimmy the steward was obdurate.
"It cannot be done," said he, "without wakin' the aud man."
"What the devil's the good of you talking that nonsense, Jimmy?" said
the persuasive orators; "why, you know he'd sleep with his head in a
bucket of slush."
"Yes, but I'm feared he'll waken, and then there'll be an almighty
row."