LIFE AMONG THE PACKET RATS
It is a noteworthy fact that many of the featherbrained,
harum-scarum captains endeavoured to man their vessels with
men who had been trained in north-country colliers. These
men were considered not only the best, but the most
subordinate in the world. Perhaps this was correct, but I
think the west countrymen could claim a good place in point
of seamanship, if not of subordination. I remember hearing
the captain of an Australian passenger vessel making this
complimentary statement of north-country men to my father,
when I was a very small boy, and I learnt by experience many
years afterwards that it was true. Life aboard some of the
packet ships was a chronic convulsion of devilry. The
majority of the men constituting the crew were termed
"packet rats," and were the scrapings of British and foreign
scoundrelism. No wonder the captains were anxious to have a
proportion of fine, able-bodied north-country sailors, as a
steadying influence on the devil-may-care portion of the
crew. The signing on of a packet ship was quite an historic
occasion. All the "gimlet-eyed" rascals in town were on the
alert to bleed the sailor as soon as he had got his advance.
It was usual for the sailors to sign articles binding
themselves to be aboard at 5.30 or 6 a.m. on a fixed date,
and in order that there might be no mistake as to how the
discipline of the vessel was to be administered, the
officers, who were generally Yankees, or aped the habits and
manners of the Yankee, were stationed at the gangways for
the purpose of suitably receiving the wretched,
drink-sodden, semi-delirious creatures who were to
constitute part of the crew. They were carted to the vessel,
accompanied by animals opprobriously called "crimps," whose
unrestrained appetite for plunder was a scandal to the
public authority who permitted their existence. After these
noxious gentry had sucked the blood of their victims, the
latter were handed over to the officers who awaited their
arrival at the gangway. Having arrived late, and in a
condition contrary to the orthodox opinions of their
officer, they were asked in strong nasal language why they
did not turn up at 6 a.m.
"Do you know," the slap-dashing mate would say, "that you
have committed a breach of discipline that cannot be
overlooked on this craft?"
The half-drunken, whiskey-soaked creature would reply in an
incoherent, semi-insolent way, whereupon the mate would haul
out a belaying pin and belabour him with it. Many a criminal
act of this kind was committed, and if the men as a body
retaliated, they were shot at, or knuckle-dustered, until
their faces and bodies were beaten into a pulp. This was
called mutiny; so in addition to being brutally maltreated,
there could be found, both at home and abroad, gentlemen in
authority who had them sent to prison, and who confiscated
their pay. Many of them were punished until they agreed to
sign the entry in the official log against themselves.
It may be thought that these officers were justified in the
initial stages of the voyage in striking terror into the
minds of these men, so that their criminal instincts might
be kept in check. I am well aware of the risks and
responsibilities attending the control of a terrible class
of persons such as the American "packet rat," and it is
difficult to write of them with calmness of judgment. They
were undoubtedly collections of incorrigible ruffians such
as could not have been easily employed in any other class of
British or American vessel. At the same time, it must be
remembered that the officers of these crafts were not
selected because of their pre-disposition to piety. It was
because of their predilection for living in a chronic
atmosphere of "Almighty Hell." They were trained to it, and
were apt pupils. They saw a glory in the continuity of
combat that raged from the beginning until the end of a
voyage. It is worthy of note that, with few exceptions, they
never allowed themselves to be overcome, though many a
futile attempt was made. Poor devils of sailors! Many a
voyage they made without receiving a penny for it, every
cent of their wages being confiscated in fines and
forfeitures. How many may have lost their lives during the
progress of such passages, ostensibly by accidentally
falling overboard, will never be known. I have heard old
salts talk of these vessels never being hove to to pick up
any of the unfortunate riff-raff who may have made a false
step into the ocean. This may or may not be true; but from
what I know of the desperate character of those commanders
and officers, I am inclined to give credence to a good deal
of what is said to have occurred.
The really first-class seamen on these vessels (both
American and British) were treated not only with fairness,
but very often with indulgence. It was not unusual, however,
for them to have to fight their way to having proper respect
paid to them. The expert seaman, who could box as well as he
could handle a marline spike or use a sail-needle, appealed
to the sympathies of the captain and officers. It must not
be supposed that either the officers or men who were thought
good enough to sail in these vessels were in any degree
representative of the great bulk of British captains,
officers, or men. At the same time, I do not mean to suggest
that the rest of the mercantile marine was, or ever could
be, composed of Puritans. But the men I have been trying to
describe were the very antithesis of the typical British
tar. Many of them were, constitutionally, criminals, who had
spent years compulsorily on the Spanish main, when not
undergoing punishment in prison. Having been shipmate with
some of them I am able to speak of their character with some
claim to authority. They were big bullies, and consequently
abject cowards. The tales I have heard them relate before
and during their sojourn on the Spanish main reeked with a
villainous odour. They always commenced their bullying
tactics as soon as they came aboard, especially if the
vessel had apparently a quiet set of officers and a peaceful
captain. They did not always gauge aright the pugilistic
capacity of some of their forecastle brethren, and so it
came to pass that once one of these six-feet-four rampaging
creatures was threatening annihilation to a little
forecastle colony, and, indeed, to the after-end colonists
also, when there was heard, amid a flow of sulphurous
curses, a quiet, defiant word of disapproval. It came from a
Scottish able seaman who had served long in American sailing
vessels. The orator promptly struck out at the
semi-inanimate Sandy, who woke up, went for his man in true
British style, and had him howling for mercy in less than
two minutes. The Scottish sailor became the idol of the
captain and crew, and the Yankee bullies deserted at the
first port the vessel touched at. In 1871 I shipped aboard a
barque in Liverpool as chief officer. I was very young, and
what perhaps was more sinful, very youthful looking. The
captain was only two years my senior, and the second mate
four. There was a scarcity of desirable men available, which
resulted in our having to engage what we could get, and,
with the exception of three respectable men, the rest were
"packet rats," though few of them had sailed in packets, and
those who had were stamped with the mark of it. We left
Birkenhead in tow. There was a strong wind blowing. It was
my duty to see the anchors stowed properly. I gave orders to
man the fish tackle, and directed one of the men to pinch
the flukes of the anchor on to the gunwale while the crew
were hauling on the tackle. He looked at me for a minute or
two as though he were undecided as to the condition of his
hearing and his eyesight. I repeated the order in
authoritative quarter-deck style. He gaped in amazement
apparently at my audacity, and told me in language that
could not be overlooked there (or repeated here!) to do
myself what I had ordered him to do. I became at once
conscious of my youthful appearance! I assured him that I
would stand no nonsense, and perhaps to awaken him to the
possibilities of a physical encounter, I used some
Americanisms that were obviously familiar to him and to the
others who were ready to act with him. I insisted that the
orders I had given should be carried out. He sneered at my
youth, and intimated, with a grin that foreboded
cannibalism, that he had eaten many a more manly-looking
person than myself before breakfast, and that he would stand
no G---- d---- cheek from a son of a---- like me! "Do it
yourself," said he, "I won't," and suiting the action to the
words, he tossed the handspike on to the top-gallant
forecastle. I instantly picked it up, and it was all over
his body before he had time to recover from the effect of so
sudden an attack. The captain had told me that I was to
beware of treachery, and to remember the advantage of the
first blow. "Hit," said he, "right between the eyes, and see
to it that it makes sparks!" I did not expect that the
necessity would arise so soon after leaving the docks, and I
must plead guilty to inaccurately carrying out the captain's
suggestion, except in so far as the first blow was
concerned, which was quickly and decisively struck, although
not precisely between the eyes. There were visible signs
that the head and face of the rebel had sustained damage;
and it may be taken for granted that other parts of his body
did not escape. He intimated that for the present he wanted
no more, and I was secretly glad of it because I had been
severely punished myself, although my general appearance
did not show it much. Surely the only course open to me
after so unjustifiable an attack was to resent not only the
insubordination, but the filthy personal attack on myself.
We had not arrived at the N.W. lightship where the tug was
to cast off the tow-rope when this rebellion began, and it
continued more or less until the vessel arrived at her
destination, where the whole of the refractory ones were put
in prison and kept there until she was ready to sail. They
were then brought aboard by police escort. Prison diet and
prison treatment had knocked a lot of the fight out of them,
but the ship food soon revived the devil in them again. We
had not been at sea many days before they commenced to
revolt even against steering and making or shortening sail.
It was only by the application of stringent measures that
they were kept in subjection. It was found necessary for the
captain and officers not only to lock their state-room doors
when in bed, but to keep themselves well armed in case of a
sudden rising. The suspense of it was terrible. We knew that
a slight relaxation in the stern disciplinary attitude might
give them an opportunity which they would be quick to take
advantage of; it was therefore resolutely adhered to. The
captain instilled into his officers the doctrine of keeping
them always at work, bad weather or fine. "Make them
permanently tired," said he; "make them feel fit for their
bunks." That was all very well, but in order to carry this
out the officers were kept permanently tired also.
Though many years have elapsed since those troubled days and
nights, the memory of them is still with me, watching,
working, wakeful, always on the alert, anticipating
assassination; even my brief sleep was troubled with visions
of sanguinary conflict. It was no mere delusion. Each day
brought evidences of coming trouble. How and when it would
come did not matter, so long as we were prepared for it.
Whisperings and audible grumblings were ominous tokens of
what was in the wind. The captain and I had some
conversation concerning the situation. He was of opinion
that the sailor who opened the rebellion at the beginning of
the voyage would lead an open and concerted revolt, and
perhaps I agreed with him that something of the sort might
easily happen; so we resolved to keep a tight eye on this
sinister development. One night about ten o'clock, while
beating through a narrow channel, the captain said to me, "I
am going below; you must take charge." And after giving me
the necessary instructions, he said in a low tone, "Now
mind, keep your eyes and ears wide open; you may be taken
unawares at any moment." I thanked him for the advice, and
he bade me good-night and left the poop. An Irishman was at
the wheel, and for a time his steering was good. As the wind
was dead in our teeth and blowing strong, the course was
full and by the wind. It soon became necessary to tack, and
as it is always customary for the officer in charge to take
the helm in performing this evolution, it became my duty to
do so, but as soon as the vessel was round, I told the man
to take the wheel again. I then proceeded to see that all
the sails were properly trimmed. This being done, I went on
to the poop again, and as the helmsman was steering in a
most erratic fashion, first sailing her bang off the wind
and then shaking the sails almost aback, I remonstrated with
him, but to no purpose. At last I said to him that if he did
not steer better, I would be obliged to turn him from the
wheel. No greater disgrace can be inflicted on a
self-respecting seaman than this. I have known men suffer an
agony by the mere threat of it. But the heterogeneous crew
that we had to control had no sensitiveness of that kind. I
was told, amid a running stream of filthy swearing, to take
the wheel myself. The ship and all in authority were cursed
with Hibernian fluency. A special appeal was made for our
immediate consignment to the hottest part of hell. The
harangue was suddenly cut short by my jumping from the poop
on top of him as he was about to pass away from the helm. I
had ordered a hand whom I could trust to steer, while I
became engaged in physically reproving this blackguard for
his insolence and disobedience to lawful commands. During
my struggle with him I felt a sharp prick as though a pin
had been run into me, but owing to the excitement of the
moment I took no further notice of it--indeed, I was too
busy to notice anything. The job did not prove so difficult
as I had anticipated. His accomplices did not come to his
assistance, and he evidently lost heart and became
effusively submissive. The captain relieved me at midnight,
and I returned to my berth. I was awakened during the watch
by some one tapping at my door. It turned out to be the
captain. When I admitted him he showed me a knife which he
had picked up on the deck, and asked if I knew whom it
belonged to. I said "Yes, it belongs to the Irishman."
"Well," said he, "it was evidently his intention to bleed
you." I was sitting up in my bunk, and suddenly observed a
clot of blood on my shirt, and said to him, "I have been
stabbed. Look at this." I examined myself, and found a
slight cut where I had felt the sensation which I have
spoken of. We conferred as to whether he should be put in
irons, and given up to the authorities at the first port the
vessel touched at. I asked to be allowed to deal with him
when he came on deck, and it was agreed that I should. He
was in due course ordered aft, and the knife shown to him.
When asked if it was his, he became afflicted with fear, and
admitted that he had attempted to stab me, and begged that
he should not be further punished, and if he were allowed
to resume his duty he promised with emotional profusion to
give no further annoyance to any one. The appeal was
pathetic; it would have been an act of vindictive cruelty
not to have granted what he asked; though his conduct in
conjunction with the others had up to that time been vicious
in the extreme. It was thought desirable to give his
promises a test, with the result that he gave no outward
signs of violating them while the voyage lasted.
These men were mutineers by profession. Sentiment, or what
is called moral suasion, was unintelligible to them. They
were a species of wild beast that could only be tamed by the
knowledge that they were weaker than the power set over
them; and this could only be conveyed in one way that was
understandable to them: that is, by coming down to their
level for the time being, and smashing their courage (and
their heads if need be) with electrical suddenness. If there
was any hesitation, depend upon it they would smash you. The
moralist will declaim against the adoption of such a
doctrine, and will bring theoretic arguments in support of
his theories; but before commencing a tirade against an
unavoidable method, perhaps the moralist will state whether
he has ever been confronted with a situation which might
involve not only the unlawful absorption of supreme control,
but the sacrifice of life and valuable property as a
consequence of it. Let me put this proposition to them. Here
is a vessel, it may be, out on a trackless ocean hundreds of
miles from land, her forecastle hands consisting of a gang
of murderous ruffians ready to make lawful authority
impotent, and, if need be, to enforce their own by
overpowering the captain and officers and making an
opportunity for mutiny. Let the moralists think of it; four
or five men at the mercy of a score of hang-dog scoundrels
who despise every moral law, and who talk lightly of murder
and every form of violent death! Let me ask them what their
feelings would be suppose any of their near relations were
placed in the position of having to fight for lawful
supremacy and even for life? I think this might be trying to
their faith in theoretic and sentimental government. But the
question might be made more impressive still by devoting a
chapter to the hideous butchery which horrified creation
when the news came of the mutiny of the _Flowery Land_ and
the _Caswell_. I should like people who are so deadly
virtuous as to repudiate self-preservation to picture the
decks of these two vessels washed in human blood, and to
imagine (if it is not too dreadful to do so) that some of it
belonged to a kinsman who was very dear to them. I think if
they are not past praying for they would then give up
dispensing cant, and direct their sympathies to a policy
that has the merit of being not only humane but logical. I
well know how narrow the dividing line is between proper and
improper discipline; and know also the care that should be
used in such circumstances to act with fairness and even
kindness. But I am writing about a section of men who
mistake kindness for weakness, and who can only be appealed
to and swayed by the magic of fear. I could find material to
fill a three-hundred page book with the experiences of that
one eventful and hazardous voyage. Space forbids my giving
more than a brief account of it.
After ten months' absence from Liverpool we arrived at
Antwerp. The conduct of some of the crew had been so
shocking that they feared the penalty of it, and they
absconded immediately on arrival, and were never heard of by
us again. The Irishman fulfilled his pledge so thoroughly
that he was not only pardoned but kept by the vessel. The
more defiant of them saw the thing through, and received
only a portion of their wages, the bulk of it being deducted
for fines and forfeitures. I am bound to say these men got
what they richly deserved. They had on several occasions
endangered the safety of a handsome and valuable vessel and
the lives of all aboard. But for the loyalty of the petty
officers and the unyielding firmness of a strong, capable
captain underwriters would have had a heavy loss to pay for.
The tale I have been unfolding shows one unwholesome and
vicious aspect of sailor life. There is, happily, a more
attractive, peaceful, and manifestly brighter and purer
aspect; and those who live in it are beloved by every one.