Look at yon smooth-faced blue-eyed lad; his fair locks escaping from
beneath his broad-brimmed hat stuck to the back of his head; his blue
shirt collar, let in with white, turned over his neck-handkerchief,
which is tied with long streaming ends; his loose jacket, his wide
trousers. You know the sailor lad at a glance. He is a well cared for
apprentice under a kind captain. He wins your regard by his artless
frank manners, and you think all sailor boys are like him. Then see
that fine specimen of a man rolling along, with his huge beard and
whiskers, his love locks, his dark flashing eyes, his well bronzed
countenance, his bare throat, his dress, similar to that of the lad, but
of good quality and cut to a nicety. He looks the hero of the sea, and
so he is, and so he feels himself.
What will he not dare and do? He will board a foeman's ship by his
captain's side, however few with him or many against him; storm a
battery sending forth showers of deadly shot; leap overboard to rescue a
shipmate from a watery grave; will lift in his arms a charged shell with
the fuzee yet burning, or will carry on his shoulders a wounded comrade
from beneath the very guns of the foe. He loves to fight on shore as
well as at sea. He will suffer cold, and hunger, and thirst, and face
death in a thousand forms without complaint if his officers set him the
example. He is the true man-of-war's-man, proud of his calling and
despising all others.
Now watch yonder nicely dressed old gentleman, with his three cornered
hat, white neckcloth, long blue coat with gold lace cuffs. He is a
Greenwich pensioner. He has done his duty to his country and done it
well, with all his heart; and now his country, whom he served in his
strength and manhood, cares for him as she should in his old age.
From these pleasing pictures people are apt to form their notions of
sailors and of a sea life, but there exists another numerous class of
whom I have a very different sketch to present.
They are as a class, however, gallant fellows. They also will dare and
do all that men can accomplish. Many are kind hearted, generous, brave;
but others are too often brutal, fierce, vicious, drunkards,
blasphemers, thinking only of present gratifications, and utterly
regardless of the future or of the world to come.
If such characteristics be theirs, I have a very solemn question to ask.
Why are they so? Who has allowed them to become so? What steps have
been taken to improve them? The newspapers often give us one reason why
they are brutal. Sent ignorant to sea, ignorant they grow up, no one
taking thought for the wellbeing of their souls or bodies; placed often
under ignorant brutal masters, whose only idea is how to get the most
work out of them, whose only argument is a handspike or rope's end;
ill-fed, ill-treated, ill-clothed, ill-lodged (oh what foul, wet, dark
holes have thousands of gallant sailors to live in on board ship); ill
looked after in sickness; when they return to port, handed over to the
tender mercies of crimps and foul harpies of every description, the
lives of our merchant seamen are short and hard indeed.
Remember that these are the men who supply us with all the luxuries we
enjoy, who have charge of the merchandise which has made England great,
glorious, and powerful. Who then, I ask, has an excuse for refusing to
support any measure which will benefit them, their souls and their
bodies? Can any one deny that our seamen have a claim on the sympathies
and aid of every member of the community, whether living in an inland
town, in the sequestered village, or on the wild sea side?
Oh could you but behold the merchant seaman on board his ship, the
coaster, the trader to neighbouring lands, aye on board some fine
looking craft also bound to distant ports; could you see him as he is,
day after day toiling on in his tarry, dirty clothes, unshaven,
unwashed, with rude companions, obscene in language and habits, in their
foul den of a berth; could you hear the expression applied to him by his
superiors, his groans of pain, his muttered curses as kicks and blows
and cuffs follow after the oaths showered on him; could you see him in
port consorting with the vilest of the vile, living in filth and
iniquity till his hard-earned gains being spent, his senses steeped in
drink, he is put on board another ship, often not knowing where he is
going till far out at sea. Could you see and hear, I say, one tenth
part of the horrors which take place, unnoticed by man, on the wide
ocean, you, my readers, would weep and exclaim, unless your hearts are
harder than adamant, "We must, we must do something for that poor
fellow's soul and mortal frame."
Before, therefore, I begin the life of Jack Buntline, I must tell you
how that something may be done. There exists in London a society called
The Missions to Seamen, which I was the humble means of establishing
there some five years ago. It had before existed at Bristol. It is
warmly supported by numerous admirals, and other naval officers and men
of influence. The office is at 11, Buckingham Street, Strand, and the
Secretary is the Rev T.A. Walrond, an excellent clergyman, who has
devoted himself with the utmost zeal and energy to the interests of
sailors. The object of the Society is to supply clergymen and lay
missionaries for seamen: but they do not wait till the sailors come to
them, they seek them out on board their ships, not only in harbours and
rivers, but even in open roadsteads, such as the Downs, the Solent, and
Portland Bay, wherever, indeed, any number of vessels are brought up
together. The Society possesses several small vessels, on board which
seamen are collected and services are held, as also boats for carrying
the missionaries on board the ships. They have a flag, the design of
which is an angel carrying the open gospel in her hand, on a blue
ground.
The work of the chaplains and missionaries is, as I have said,
especially to seek out seamen on board their ships, without waiting for
them to come to hear them. They visit them in their berths, however
close or foul they may be, read and explain the Bible to them, pray with
them, collect them for public worship, and preach to them; offer them
Bibles, leave tracts with them, and speak to them as friends whose only
desire is for their soul's welfare. Under God's guidance a very large
amount of good has, I believe, by these means been done, not only among
British, but foreign seamen who visit our ports. Five years ago I was
induced to commence the work by the Rev T.C. Childs, who had succeeded
the Rev Dr Ashley, as sole chaplain of the Bristol Channel Mission,
the only one then existing. We have now eleven chaplains, twelve lay
missionaries, and an income which already exceeds 6,000 pounds per
annum. God has evidently particularly blessed our work. Still we have
calls from all directions for more Chaplains and Scripture Readers, and
all who read this little book will, I trust, give their aid to the work
by such contributions as they can collect, taking care that they send
them to the Society for which I plead.
I should add, that I wrote the following story to read to the pupils of
the Rev J. Thomson, of Blackheath, and also to those of my friend the
Rev T. Langhorne, of Loretta House, Musselburgh, near Edinburgh. Mr
Thomson's boys collected upwards of 10 pounds soon afterwards for the
Missions to Seamen. Great will be my satisfaction if all my readers
follow their excellent example, and collect similar sums for the same
important object.
William H.G. Kingston.
Middle Hill, Wimborne, Dorset.