Windjammers and Sea Tramps

"Terrible misfortune?" repeated the impassioned owner. "Is it a terrible misfortune to make a West Coast voyage within three months?"

"No," said the burly tug master, "I now see you do not apprehend the position. I didn't care to say to you that the captain had a vision off Cape Horn which decided him to return to this port."

"What?" said the almost speechless potentate. "A vision? Back here, without being to Valparaiso? My God!—I will never get over it!"

And in truth he nearly collapsed, business, body, and soul, over the matter.

The vessel was brought into the harbour. The sanctified skipper did not receive the promised gifts! The vessel sailed in a few days without him for the same destination; and until a few years since he could be seen any day walking the quay, still holding to the belief that it was the Divine will he had carried out. This faith was strengthened by the vessel never having been heard of again after sailing the second time. I never heard of the owner showing any vindictiveness to the poor captain, who was, no doubt, the victim of a strange hallucination.

It would be unfair to impute a monopoly of superstition to the seafarer. Sailors have superstitions which are not now exclusively theirs, though they may have been the originators of them; for instance, placing a loaf of bread upside down, spilling the salt (and nullifying the mischief by throwing a few grains over the left shoulder); these, as well as the leaving of stray leaves and stalks in teacups are considered sure indications of past or coming events, even by the large and enlightened public who pass their lives on dry land. There are few things more comical than to see the nautical person studiously avoid passing under a shore ladder. The penalty of it has a terror for him; and yet his whole life is spent in passing to and fro under rope ladders aboard ship without any suspicion of evil consequences. But the landsman's belief in mystic tokens and flighty safeguards is faint indeed compared with that which permeates and saturates the mind of the typical sailor. A gentleman with whom I was long and closely associated held definite opinions on symbolic apparitions. His faith in black cats was immovable; but this only extended to those who actually crossed his path, and to him that was a sign indicative of good fortune. I have seen him go into ecstasies of joy over an incident of this kind; and woe unto the person who interrupted the current of his happiness. He would curse him with amazing fluency until resentment choked the power of expression. This same human phenomenon was, in early life, shipwrecked on one of the hidden shoals with which the north-east coast abounds, at the very moment when he was taking from the girdle in the galley a hot cake he had baked in celebration of his birthday, and as a precaution against future calamities he ever after wore the left foot stocking outside in; and although he has passed through many dangers which nearly ended in disaster, he has never again been shipwrecked. Hence his faith is unbroken in the protecting virtue of this mode of wearing that article of dress, and so is his reverent belief in black cats as charms against evil fortune. I have never known a person with a larger sense of genuine humour than this man possessed, and yet one could never appear to slight his peculiar superstitions without producing a paroxysm of fury in him. He would watch for the appearance of a new moon with touching anxiety, and although his finances were very frequently in a precarious condition, he never allowed himself to be without the proverbial penny to turn over under the new moon as a panacea against hidden pecuniary ills! If, in sailor parlance, a star "dogged the moon," that was to him a disturbing omen, and great caution had to be observed that no violation of nautical ethics took place during the transit. It was never regarded as a transit, but as a "sign" from which evil might be evolved.

Amidst all this singular piety in externals (for it was really a species of piety), this typical sailor never gave up his belief in the efficacy of strong language, which, among the worst of his class, was frequently indescribable; and the more eloquent he was in the utterance of oaths the larger became his conviction that he possessed a gift not to be acquired by mere tuition. Many years ago, when I was a very small apprentice boy aboard a brig we had a steward who was also a sailor of no common ability. His career had been a long one of varied villainy, he impersonating alternately a parson and a rich shipowner. In the latter rôle he succeeded in getting large advances of money from unsuspecting store, sail, and rope dealers—taking advantage of a trade-custom which prevails in every port, in return for which he gave orders, which caused the favoured firms to be looked upon with envy. They were requested to have these supplies put aboard four days after the order was given; and the penalty for not being able to do so was to be the loss of a very valuable connection. There was much condescension on the part of the bounteous customer, who "would call again in two days," and much thanking and bowing and shaking of hands on the part of the recipients when the time came to say "Good-day." The stores were duly sent to the docks where the vessels were lying, but the real owners did not recognise the person who had given the order as having any connection with them, whereupon an unhappy dawn broke over the minds of the unsuspecting victims. Many months elapsed before the gentleman in question was apprehended and confronted by the tradesmen to whom he owed a period of blissful dissipation. Needless to say the meeting was not so cordial as the parting, though a lack of cordiality could not be charged against the improvised shipowner. Indeed, to the great discomfort of his former friends, as soon as an opportunity was given him, from his position in the prisoners' dock, he saluted them with playful familiarity; but this did not prevent him being sent to penal servitude. He had played many other rôles under many names, but it was as a parson he prided himself in having met with success by the startling number of conversions that attended his efforts. He belonged to a respectable and well-known family, and their anxiety to have him reclaimed from the vices that had produced for them so much sorrow induced them to prevail on his brother-in-law, who was master of a brig, to take him under his special care; so he was appointed as steward, and thereby given the opportunity of spoiling much valuable food, and causing grievous dissension among the crew.

This loathsome creature could only be appealed to through his superstitions, and even the young apprentice boys soon discovered his weakness, and terrorised him whenever they got the chance. One awful morning in November, 1864, the vessel was hove-to under close-reefed main topsail. All hands had been on deck during the whole night, which was one of raging storm and disaster. The decks had been swept, and the galley carried away in the general destruction, so that no food could be cooked on deck. The captain gave orders to the steward to light a fire in the cabin stove, and make coffee for all hands. He proceeded to do this. The matches, however, had suffered in the commotion of the night, and would not ignite. After many futile efforts the steward's patience gave way; but certain members of the crew had impressed him with the conviction that the hurricane that was being encountered and the disasters that had befallen us were sent as a judgment on him for the blasphemous language he was accustomed to use at all times, whenever the slightest thing crossed his devilish nature. He put his hands on the table, his eyes were upturned, and with a softness of speech he slowly uttered, "Jesus wept—and so He might!" Of course he would have preferred a string of oaths as a relief to his pent-up anger. On the following night the hurricane still raged, and it was thought that something was wrong with the maintop-gallant sail. It looked as though it were blowing adrift. A hand was sent aloft to secure it, but when half-way up the top-mast rigging, he got on to the top-mast back stay, and slid down on deck. He was speechless for some time after reaching the deck. At last he jerkingly articulated that there was nothing wrong with the sail, but that which was believed to be sail was really some ferocious living thing. Whereupon great consternation spread; and volunteers were asked for to go aloft, and ascertain precisely what it was. It turned out to be an eagle, and after considerable difficulty a rope was got round it, and it was safely landed on deck. It so happened that shortly after the capture was made a tremendous sea struck the vessel, causing her to leak badly, and taking the remaining two boats overboard. This was put down not merely as a coincidence, but a coincidence that was sent for a purpose, and every mind was fixed upon the steward. The wretched man was stricken with panic. His thoughts centred on his past, and he became an abject drivelling confessionist, emptying himself of deeds that were awful to listen to, and had been kept to himself for years. The voyage soon ended, and the last I heard of him was that he was drinking himself to death; he had never got over the conviction that the Divine wrath was upon him.

The sight of a shark is an everyday occurrence in some latitudes. Nothing is thought of it, and sometimes much sport is derived in attempting a capture. But should a vessel be dogged for a succession of days by a shark, or (as very frequently happens) by a shoal of them, gloom begins to spread, imaginations begin to widen; whisperings and close consultations for evil purposes take place; and soon there has developed an epidemic of melancholia. Conjecture is rife. The explanation of it all is that these sharks have designs on human flesh, or they would not follow with such tenacity. There is much speculation as to how the unfortunate men are to be delivered into the grip of their ferocity, and whether the feast will involve the sacrifice of one or all of them. The more dismal the weather, the more impressive the danger becomes. Perchance a man falls overboard, or an accident occurs, no matter which; it is at once attributed to the proximity of the sharks. "They would never follow a vessel if they did not know they were to be rewarded by some tasty recompense." Indeed they were believed to have supernatural instincts as well as gluttonous intentions, which filled the sailor with alarm, and caused him to ponder uneasily over the idea of his last moments. It did not occur to him that these "slim" followers kept in close proximity to their vessel so that they might partake of the food that was daily cast into the sea; they are not particular whether it is human or not. What they look for is food. But Jack loves tragedy. He likes to imagine he is in danger of being eaten or robbed or imposed upon. The non-fulfilment of his prognostications does not humiliate him: it seems to inspire more tenacious belief.

The sea serpent, whatever that might be, has caused mariners of every age much perturbation. Periodically there are sensational reports emanating from some sea captain, that the real bleary-eyed monster has at last been discovered. Illimitable dimensions are given, together with much detail of its many peculiarities. Three years ago, in the month of May, I was cruising with some friends in my schooner yacht. We had traversed many of the Scottish Lochs, amongst them Loch Fyne, where the finest herring in the world abound, and are much sought after by fishermen as well as by bottle-nosed whales. We were making our way from Inverary towards Campbeltown, and as the wind was shy, off the north side of Arran, we were hugging the land in order to lead to our destination. A good wind was carried as far as Loch Ryan, when it slowly died away and became flat calm. One of my friends and myself were walking the deck together, when he excitedly observed, "What is that on our starboard beam; is it a reef?" I assured him there were no shoals in the vicinity of the yacht; and I took up the field-glasses, and saw quite plainly that it was a bottle-nosed whale. It soon began to move and send masses of water into the air. The calm continued, and some anxiety was felt lest the leviathan should playfully come towards us and test its power of lifting. It passed close to where we lay, and then shaped a course towards the opposite shore. Naturally our interest was excited, and as a favourable breeze sprang up and gradually strengthened we were able to follow at a discreet distance from the tail of the sea disturber. It would have taken the vessel out of our way to have followed it far, so a course was set for Campbeltown, and the monster was soon lost to view. Navigation was made intricate by a large fleet of fishing boats beating up towards the playground of the fish they sought to catch. The day following our arrival at Campbeltown this fleet re-entered the port, their crews stricken with a conviction that they had encountered the much-spoken-of sea-monster. Their tales varied only in degree, but their convictions were similar, and as they unfolded with touching solemnity the story of peril, the little town became the centre of wild, fluttering pulses. It was a conflict between pride of race and sanctified horror, for had not their townsmen looked into the very jaws of death? One imaginative gentleman made a statement that was creepy in his version of a gallant fight against the demoniac foe. The monster is said to have raised itself high out of the water, and opened its jaws, which exposed to view a vast space, and suggested that the intention was to receive, if not a few of the boats, certainly a multitude of the people who manned them. One craft came gliding along, and the skipper promptly picked up an oar, and put it into the "serpent's" mouth, whereupon the oar was as promptly snapped asunder; and the skilful mariner sailed his craft gallantly out of harm's way while the cause of all the commotion went prancing about the ocean in defiance of the vast flotilla which is said at the same time to have occupied its attention. It would be impossible to give more than a summary of all the things that were said to have been done during this trying episode; and all that need be said now is that the men were stricken with awe. They remained in port for several days in the belief that their enemy was still on the rampage outside. Their deliverance had been miraculous; and no doubt much thanksgiving, and much petitioning for divine interposition, so that this visitor from a sinister world might be spirited away to some other locality, held their attention during the days that were spent under cover of a safe harbour. There can be little doubt that the cause of the fishers' frenzy was the quiet, inoffensive bottle-nosed whale, leisurely prowling about the Sound in search of a living, and, in fact, none other than the one that my friend had supposed to be a reef. These creatures rarely run amuck until the harpoon is thrust into them. They usually roll about the sea in the most harmless way. No doubt the sight of a huge creature in localities unaccustomed to it creates an impression of dull alarm, and, strange though it be, some minds are so constituted that their superstitions and imaginations are always thirsting after association with the nether regions.

A common belief among seamen is that if rats migrate from a vessel that vessel is doomed; and many hardships have been endured at times on account of this belief. I am inclined to favour the idea that these creatures are just as tenacious of life as human beings are; but to say they have keener intuitive capacity than we is arrant nonsense. It is true they do not like leaky ships any more than their crews do; and they leave them for the same particular reasons as would induce them to leave districts on shore. Scarcity of food or comfort, or danger of attack, create their itinerant moods. Of course if their pasture is good they are difficult to get rid of. They are prolific and cling to their young. That unquestionably is a reason for their willingness to be driven from a position where the food supply may be precarious. They have their channels of communication which are as difficult to cut off as to find out, so that when they do leave a vessel that is in port it is pretty certain they have heard of some more comfortable quarters and a better playground. This accounts for them clearing out of a ship just before she sails, thus throwing some poor superstitious creature into abject fear that their exodus is the forerunner of calamity. To carry the superstition out logically, instead of rats being exterminated throughout a place or a vessel, they should really be encouraged to remain and multiply. I saw an extract from an American paper some years ago, and it told a sensational tale of a steamer which had arrived at Baltimore from Cuba, laden with iron ore. During the passage the whole crew were attacked by swarms of rats, which had come aboard at the loading port. The crew, including the captain, his wife, and family, were driven to take refuge on deck. The rats became infuriated for want of food, and boldly clamoured for it, until it was decided to feed them discreetly from the ship's stores. Many of the crew were bitten. Under less startling circumstances it is quite a common occurrence for seamen to have their toenails eaten off while they are asleep. It rarely happens that the flesh is penetrated; and they nearly always go for the big toe. People who have not seen such things are sure to be sceptical about the truth of this statement. It can, however, be easily verified. On the Baltimore vessel's arrival in the stream, and after communications had been effected with the shore, it was found that men could not be induced to risk working in the holds until the rats were expelled. It was decisively arranged to have the vessel scuttled. This was done, and the situation became more perplexing than ever. As soon as the water began to flow into the vessel, the rats took to the rigging, and every available space of it became occupied. Never had such a sight been witnessed before. It was decided to shoot at them. The panic at once grew into pandemonium, both amongst the rats and the public. The fear of large numbers of the rats making their escape seized the imagination, and took some subduing. Methods were adopted, however, which soon put an end to mere contemplation, and the rats were speedily put out of harm's way. The story comes from America, and is an answer to those who cling to the silly notion that rats have the faculty of prevision and always leave a ship that is to be sunk or is sinking. These rats would not leave even after the vessel was sunk.

Many years ago, long before sailing vessels succumbed to steam, I was serving as cabin boy aboard a brig laden with salt, which had been taken on board at St. Ubes, Portugal. We were in the Bay of Biscay, and had encountered a succession of gales from the time of leaving St. Ubes. The vessel had a private leak, that is, a leak which was not occasioned by constructive weakness, but by some omission of caulking, bolting, trinnelling, &c. This alone only called for one pump to be set going every two hours, but the heavy buffeting made her strain and leak so badly that it ultimately necessitated the continuous use of both pumps. The sea was running cross and heavy, which caused the cargo to shift, and the water to come on the ceiling, that is, the inner planking of the hull. A portion of the crew that could be spared from the pumps was ordered to take some forecastle bulkhead planks down, and make their way into the hold for the purpose of trimming the cargo over. The work was carried on vigorously, amid a continuous flow of adjectives. The captain and owner, both of whom were much-respected men, were consigned by the sailors many times to perdition and other more or less sulphurous places. Indeed, the father of evil was freely invoked against them; but as both captain and owner are very much alive at the present time, the former controlling a vast business in conjunction with his sons, and the captain for many years having been living a peaceful life far away from the desolate storming of angry waters, whatever may be in store for those two well-cursed gentlemen, external appearances up to date favour the assumption that Jack's invocation has been unheeded. There was much desultory talk during the spells of shovelling, and one of the sailors, who, by the way, had at one time commanded his father's Scotch clipper, remarked, as though he were soliloquising, "I don't care a Scotch damn so long as the rats stick to us." Whereupon there arose a discussion upon the protective influence of rats, and it was decided that no leaky vessel should go to sea without them. One of the men thought he heard water coming in at the bow, and, as that part of the hold was not occupied with cargo, he made his way towards it, and asked me to bring him a light. He inquired if I heard anything. I replied in the affirmative. The carpenter was brought down into the hold, and the ceiling cut away; it was found that the rats had gnawed a hole through the outside planking, until they tasted tar and salt water. The sea pressure afterwards forced the skin in, and there became a free inlet of water. The hole was not large, but it had been sufficient to keep one pump going every two hours. There was now no doubt that this was the private leak. There was great rejoicing at the discovery, and after a few appropriate words, not necessary to reproduce here, against a Providence that could allow the perpetrators of such infinite mischief to prowl about attempting to scuttle ships, it was generally concluded that the occasion being one of peril, should be allowed to pass without any stronger demonstration of reproach—as it might excite retaliation.

THE SEAMAN'S RELIGION

Nothing is more comic than the sailor's aversion to the person nautically recognised as the "sky-pilot." I have known men risk imprisonment for desertion, on hearing that a parson was going the voyage, or that the vessel was to sail on a Friday. If any of them were asked their reason for holding such opinions, they would no doubt make a long, rambling statement of accidents that had happened, and the wild wrath that follows in the wake of a ship sailing on the forbidden day! These prejudices still survive in a modified form. The younger generation of seamen do not view the presence of the parson on board their ship with any strong objection. In many cases he is rather welcomed than otherwise. But the last generation had a strong tradition, which could not be subdued, that no clerical gentleman should be looked upon with favour as a passenger. The boycott was sometimes carried out against him during the voyage with unrelenting cruelty. Ever since the Lord commanded Jonah, the son of Amittai, to arise and go to Nineveh, and the Hebrew preacher took passage aboard the ship of Tarshish instead, there has been trouble. The senseless antipathy has been handed down the ages, and the legacy comes from a shameless gang who were cowardly assassins, from the skipper downward! Poor Jonah! The tempest did not unnerve him; for, while the other drivelling creatures were chucking their wares overboard, he slept peacefully, until the bully of the crowd, and no doubt the greatest funk, called out to him, "What meanest thou, O sleeper? Arise, call upon thy God, if so be that God will think upon us that we perish not!" These creatures always want sacrifices made to save their own precious skins; and they found in the poor penitent Hebrew a willing sacrifice. He agreed that they should cast him into the sea! It is not recorded what methods of torture were used in order to extract his consent; but it is pretty safe to assume that the Tarshish crew made it so hot for the poor man that he was glad to say to them, "Take me up and cast me forth into the sea!" Thus it comes to pass that the race of seamen cling to a tradition which originated in craven ignorance.

Some years ago a large party was invited by me to a trial trip of a new steamer. Amongst the guests were a number of ministers, some of whom were my personal friends, and some the friends of others who had been invited. A gentleman who had been in my service for many years held strongly to the old tradition against clerics, and vowed that no good would ever come of such a reckless breach of nautical etiquette. He felt assured that much ill would come of it. His countenance the whole day betokened internal conflict! He refused to be ridiculed into consolation, and I think has felt chagrined ever since that nothing has happened to justify his prophecy. It must not be supposed, however, that men holding these views carried their resentment ashore. Many of them were on easy terms of friendship with sky-pilots, and listened to their devotional efforts and teaching with fervent submission. A story, which is known and reverently believed by the typical sailor, has done service many times. It is this: A parson had embarked aboard a sailing vessel as a passenger. They were crossing the Bay of Biscay when a tempest began to rage and the darkness became full of trouble. The sea lashed with remorseless effect on the hull of the vessel, until her timbers cracked and made strange noises. It was discovered that the vessel was leaking badly, and all hands were ordered to the pumps. The hurricane continued to roar, and the parson became alarmed at the tumult. He at last appealed to the captain to know whether the danger was of a serious character. The captain informed him the danger was great; but, if he desired to be assured of his safety or otherwise, he was to go towards the men that were pumping and listen whether they were swearing. If they were, there was no immediate danger. He came back and said to the captain, "Glory be to God, they are swearing!" A short time was allowed to elapse, and another visit was paid. He came back and informed the commander that they were still swearing, but not quite so hard; "Indeed," said he, "I thought I heard some of them praying." "Ah," said the captain, "I fear if hard swearing does not continue, and they begin to pray, there will be no hope!" Whereupon the man of Holy Orders dropped on his knees and offered up an eloquent supplication for Divine aid: "O God, in Thy boundless compassion do Thou cause these sailors to cease praying, and make them to swear with a vigour and force that will appease the anger of the waves, and bring Thy servants out of danger into safety!" The captain called out "Amen," and added a supplementary petition for their deliverance, which is said to have been granted.

Sailors of that day spoke of God with the profound belief that He was their exalted fellow-countryman, and they did not scruple to charge Him with indifference to their nautical interests, if a foreigner, or a foreign vessel, happened to gain a monetary or seafaring advantage over them. This is not a mere legend. North Blyth, in the county of Northumberland, was inhabited by personalities who held definite opinions on these matters. One old gentleman, whom I remember very well (his name was Readford, but he had the distinction of being better known as "Barley"—why he was given this name there is no need to relate), held very strong views as to the functions and obligations of the Almighty. He never doubted His existence or His power, and he always claimed a dispensation of benefit as the right of British patriots.

The following story, true in every essential, will show his reasons for doing so: Barley was in command of a collier, which traded between Blyth and London. On one of his voyages to London he encountered a strong head-wind, which caused him to have to beat "up Swin." A Dutch galliot—type of vessel which has never had the reputation of being a racer—was in company, to leeward of him. Barley managed by dexterous manipulation to keep her there until the flood tide was well-nigh spent; but, alas for human fallibility, and the eccentric fluctuations of the wind, the Dutchman stood towards the north shore, while our hero, who was priding himself on the superior qualities of himself and his brig, stood towards the south, whereupon the Dutchman got a "slant of wind" which came off the north shore. The result was the British vessel was badly weathered by the galliot. Barley's anger could not be appeased. It was an offence against national pride and justice! He forthwith called the attention of his chief officer to the indignity that had been thrust upon them. "Look," said he, in wrathful humiliation, "there's God Almighty given that adjective Dutchman a leading wind and allowed His own countryman to be jammed on a lee shore!" It was said that Barley never really forgave this unpatriotic act, though he still adhered to the belief that the God of British seamen was stedfastly on the side of conservatives of every kind!

There is no class of workmen that is so much thought of and cared for as the sailor class, and there is none who need and deserve such consideration more. It would be invidious to draw comparisons between classes, so that all I have to say on the point is that they have always compared favourably with those whose avocation is different from theirs. They are susceptible to good or evil influences. Perhaps not more susceptible to one than to the other; and considering the malevolent, thievish scoundrels by whom they are continually beset, their record does not compare badly with that of others. Vagrancy is almost unknown amongst them, and if their vices are large their temptations are great; but, take them as a whole, they seldom premeditate evil. Their intentions are mostly on the side of right and goodness. Some of them stand like a rock against being tempted by the gangs of harpies that are always hovering about them. Others allow their good intentions to vanish as soon as the predatory gentlemen with their seductive methods make their appearance. Agencies such as the Church of England Missions to Seamen and the Wesleyan Methodist Mission are to be thanked for the hard efforts made to keep the sailor out of harm, and to reclaim those who have fallen. They may be thanked also for having been the means of diminishing, if not altogether extirpating, a loathsome tribe of ruffians who were accustomed to feast on their blood. These Missions are a Godsend not only to the sailor, but to the nation. No other agency has done the work they are doing. The Church is apt, to gather its robes round a cantish respectability, and call out "Save the people," and the flutter falls flat on the seats. These missions owe any success they have had to going to the people.

A few wholesome women are worth scores of men in getting at sailors—or for that matter in getting at anybody else, and the importance of getting more of them attached to the work should not be overlooked. The sailor is a person of moods. Sometimes it is religion, and sometimes it is something very different, and it is only those women who have grace, comely looks and supreme tact, and who carry with them a halo of bright cheerfulness, who can deal successfully with cases of this kind. The long-faced, too much sanctified female, doling out fixed quantities of monotonous nothings, is an abomination, and is calculated to drive man into chronic debauchery. One look from this kind of awful female is a deadly agony, and much effort should be used to avoid her. But there are even men engaged in religious work, whose agonising look would give any person of refined senses the "jumps." What earthly use are such creatures to men who crave for brightness and hope to be put into their lives, and the passion of love to be beamed into their souls? If people would only bear in mind that it is always difficult to find a real soul behind a flinty face, a vast amount of mischief would be obviated by making more suitable selections for philanthropic and religious work. Of course there is more needed than a pleasant look. It is imperative that there should be combined with it knowledge, and the knack of communicating it. All denominations have wasters thrust upon them, sometimes by the ambition of parents that their sons should be ministers, and sometimes by the unbounded belief of the young men themselves in their fitness. But it often becomes apparent that good bricklayers or blacksmiths have been spoiled in the process of selection; whereas a little courage and frankness on the part of the selection people would have saved many souls and many reputations.

SAFETY AND COMFORT AT SEA

The present-day sailor has a princely life compared with that of his predecessors of the beginning and middle of the last century. Those men were ill-paid, ill-fed, and for the most part brutally treated. The whole system of dealing with seamen was a villainous wrong, which stamps the period with a dirty blot, at which the British people should be ashamed to look. What awful crimes were permitted by the old legislatures of agricultural plutocrats! Ships were allowed to be sent to sea in an unseaworthy condition. Men were forced to go in them for a living, and scores of these well-insured coffins were never seen or heard of again after leaving port. Their crews, composed sometimes of the cream of manhood, were the victims of a murderous indifference that consigned them to a watery grave; and the families who survived the wholesale assassination were left as legacies of shame to the British people, who by their callousness made such things possible. Whole families were cast on the charity of a merciless world, to starve or survive according to their fitness. Political exigencies had not then arisen. The people were content to live under the rule of a despotic aristocracy, and so a devastating game of shipowning was carried on with yearly recurring but unnoticed slaughter. In one bad night the billows would roll over hundreds of human souls, and no more would be heard of them, except, perhaps, in a short paragraph making the simple announcement that it was feared certain vessels and their crews had succumbed to the storms of such and such dates. "Subscription lists for sailors' wives, mothers, and orphans! Good heavens! What is it coming to? They have no votes! What, then, do they want with subscriptions?" "But you subscribe for colliery, factory, railroad, and other shore accidents. What difference does it make how the bereavement occurs?" "Votes make the difference—the importance of that should not be overlooked!"

In disdain of the commonest rights of humanity this nefarious business was allowed to flourish triumphant. The bitter wail of widows and orphans was silenced by the clamour for gold until all nature revolted against it. The earth and the waters under the earth seemed to call aloud for the infamy to be stayed. The rumbling noise of a vigorous agitation permeated the air. Strenuous efforts were made to block its progress. Charges of an attempt to ruin the staple industry of the country were vociferously proclaimed and contemptuously unheeded. Parliament was made the centre of intrigue, whereby it was expected to thwart the plans of the reformers, and throw legislation back a decade, but the torrent rushed along, with a spirit that broke through every barrier. Even the great Jew, Benjamin Disraeli, funked further evasion and opposition, after the memorable evening when Samuel Plimsoll electrified the House, and stirred up the nation, by charging the Prime Minister with the responsibility of proroguing Parliament in order that shipping legislation should be evaded, and further charged him with indifference to the loss of life at sea! The onslaught was so fierce and irresistible that it became a necessity not only to listen but to act. Thus it came to pass that a hitherto obscure gentleman, who had no connection whatever with the sea, was the means of carrying into law one of the most beneficent pieces of legislation that has ever been introduced to the House of Commons; and his name will go down to distant ages, with renown unsurpassed in the pages of Mercantile History. And shame to him who would detract from the great reformer his share in the act which has been the means of saving the lives of multitudes of seamen, and which has stamped upon it the immortal name of Samuel Plimsoll.

Drastic reforms cannot be brought about without causing inconvenience and even suffering to some one; and I am bound to say a vast amount of unnecessary hardship was caused in condemning unseaworthy vessels, many of which belonged to poor old captains who had saved a bit of money, and invested it in this way long before there was any hint of the coming legislation which was to interfere, and prevent them from being sailed unless large sums of money were expended on repairs. Scores of these poor fellows were ruined. Many of them died of a broken heart. Many became insane; not a few ended a miserable existence by taking their own lives; or died in almshouses, and under other dependent conditions. Of all classes of men, I do not know any who have such an abhorrence for the poorhouse as the sailor class. They will suffer the greatest privations in order to avoid it. It was a hard, cruel fate to have the earnings of a lifetime, and the means of livelihood, taken from them by a stroke of the pen, without compensation; and England again degraded herself by substituting one crime for another. These fine old fellows had been at one time a grand national asset; some of them had fought our battles at sea; but even apart from this some compensation should have been voted to all those who were to be affected by legislation that was sprung upon them, and passed into law for the public good. It may be said that any scheme of compensation must face heavy difficulties, but that is not a sufficient reason for not grappling with the question.

Compensation to the cattle-owners during the cattle plague was difficult no doubt to adjust. Indeed all revolutionary schemes are surrounded with complexities that have to be got over; but in the hands of skilled, willing workmen they can be carried out. Not very long ago a political party introduced a scheme for compensating the publicans—ostensibly because drunkenness would be diminished. It bubbled over with difficulties, but it would have been passed into law had the other party of the state not intervened in such a way as to prevent it. The same political party which thought it right that the publicans should be compensated, were not unmindful of some more of their friends, and voted something like five million sterling per annum to be distributed among landowners, parsons, &c. When the poor old sailors, withered and broken by hard usage, pleaded, for pity's sake, not to be ruined, their appeals were ruthlessly ignored.

A most extraordinary feature of the agitation to prevent loss of life at sea was the attitude of some shipmasters. They believed it to be an undue interference with their sacred rights. At the time when Mr. Plimsoll was vigorously pushing his investigations into the causes for so many vessels foundering, he went to Braila and Galatz, and examined every English steamer he was allowed to visit. Some owners, hearing that he was on a tour of investigation, instructed their captains not to allow him admittance; and I heard at the time that these instructions in some cases were rudely carried out. One forenoon he paid a casual visit to the steamer "A——," and entered into conversation with a person whom he assumed to be the commander. He chatted some time with him upon general topics, and soon discovered that the captain was not of the same political faith as himself. Shipmasters who take political sides are generally conservative. Up to that time he had carefully avoided making known his identity. At last he ventured to approach the object of his visit. He said, "Now, Captain, we have had a pleasant little chat; I should like to have your views before I go, on the Plimsoll agitation. They may be of value to me. I should like you to state also what you think of Plimsoll. I have heard varied opinions of him."

"Well," said the captain, in broad North Shields dialect, "you ask what I think of the agitation. My opinion is that all the skallywags who are taking part in it should be locked up, and have the cat every morning at five o'clock, and every hour of the day after, until they abstain from meddling with what they know nothing about! And as for Plimsoll, I would tie one end of a rope round his neck, and attach the other to a fire bar, and chuck him in there," pointing to the ebbing stream of the Danube!

"Then," said Mr. Plimsoll, "you are not in sympathy with the movement?"

"No," said the infuriated skipper, "and nobody but a —— fool would be!"

"But don't you think, Captain," said Mr. Plimsoll, "that the measures you suggest are somewhat extreme, for after all they are only trying to improve the condition of the seamen?"

"Seamen be d——d," said this meteoric Northumbrian. "We don't want ships turned into nurseries, and that's what it's coming to!"

There were indications that the interview should cease. Mr. Plimsoll thereupon prepared to take his leave. He apologised to the captain for having taken up so much of his time, handed him his card, and proceeded to land. The gallant captain looked at the card, and called for his distinguished visitor to wait, so that he might make known to him that he was ignorant of his identity, otherwise he would have saved him the pain of disclosing his opinions!

"And your method of putting a stop to agitation?" interjected Plimsoll.

"Well," said the rollicking mariner, laughing at the joke that had been played upon him, "we sailors express ourselves that way, but we have no bad intentions!"

"I apprehend that is the case, Captain," said Plimsoll.

So ended an interview which is memorable to at least one person; and not least notable for the friendship Mr. Plimsoll showed towards his would-be executioner! The story was told to me about two months after the interview occurred by the captain himself. It is very odd that even one man, especially a shipmaster, should have been found disagreeing with a reform that was to be of so much benefit to all classes of seafaring men.

Up to that time vessels were sent to sea scandalously overladen. There was no fixed loadline as there is now. Cargoes were badly stowed; no bagging was done. The fitting of shifting boards was left pretty much to the caprice of the master, who never at any time could be charged with overdoing it, but rather the reverse. I am speaking now more particularly of steamers, though to some extent the same reckless disregard for human safety existed among sailing vessels. It was necessary, however, that commanders of "windjammers" should be more painstaking in the matter of having their cargoes thoroughly stowed, and that adequate bulkheads and shifting boards should be fitted; for the shifting of a sailing vessel's cargo was accompanied with the possibilities of serious consequences. Sailing vessels cannot be brought head-on to wind and sea, as steamers can, and the weather may be so boisterous as to make it impossible to get into the holds; and even if these are 'accessible, the heavy "list" and continuous lurching prohibit the trimming of the cargo to windward.

But the great loss of life was not altogether caused by allowing rotten, leaky, badly equipped sailing vessels to go to sea, nor by the neglect of commanders of both sailers and steamers to adopt reasonable precautions for the purpose of avoiding casualty. At the very time when the whole country was ablaze with excitement over the harrowing disclosures that investigation had brought to light, Lloyds' Classification Committee was allowing a type of narrow-gutted, double-decked, long-legged, veritable coffins to be built, that were destined to take hundreds of poor fellows to their doom. Their peculiarity was to capsize, or continuously to float on their broadsides. Superhuman effort could not have kept them on their legs. Neither bagging transverse or thwartship bulkheads were of any avail. Scores of them that were never heard of after leaving port found a resting-place, with the whole of their crews, at the bottom of the Atlantic Ocean. They lie there, unless enormous pressure has crushed them into mud; and their tombs, could they be revealed, would give ghastly testimony to the incompetence of naval architects. No amount of precautionary measures could have made this type of craft seaworthy. They were not shaped to go to sea. My own impression is, apart from the crankiness of these rattletraps, there was a vast amount of overloading which was the cause of many vessels being sent to the bottom; so many, indeed, that it became a common saying among seamen who were employed in the Baltic trade that if the North Sea were to dry up it would resemble a green field, because of the quantity of green steamers that had perished there. Perhaps the phrase was merely a picturesque figure of speech, as the North Sea makes no distinction as to the claim it has on its victims, and the colour of paint does neither attract nor repel its favour. Notwithstanding the startling evidence which proved that there was something radically wrong in the design and construction of what was known as the "three-deck rule" type, Lloyds' Classification and the Board of Trade officials adhered to the idea of their superiority over every other class. The Hartlepool Well-decker became the object of hostility. It was pronounced by dignified theorists to be unsafe. The long wells combined with a low freeboard lacerated their imaginations. They could not speak of it without exhibiting strong emotion. "Suppose," said they, "a sea were to break into the fore well and fill it, the vessel would obviously become overburdened. Her buoyancy would be nil, and she would succumb to the elements."

But practical minds had provided against such an eventuality. These objects of aversion had what is called a raised quarter-deck; two ends which stood boldly out of the water, and of course a big "sheer." Heavy seas rarely came over their bows or sterns, and when they did the bulk of the water did not remain or seem to affect their buoyancy. The heaviest water was taken aboard amidship, when they were running with a beam sea or scudding before a gale; but owing to their great sheer it gravitated in a small space against the bridge bulkhead, the structure of which was strong enough to stand excessive pressure. They were considered to be the finest and safest tramps afloat by men who sailed in them. Vessels of two thousand tons deadweight, with only eighteen to twenty-four inches freeboard, would make winter Atlantic passages without losing a rope-yarn, while many of the three-deckers with six or seven feet freeboard never reached their destination. Still the theorists kept up their unreasoning opposition to the Well-deckers, and the Hartlepool men were driven to take the matter up vigorously. They would have no indefinite, haughty assertions. They demanded investigation; and the result of it proved that the theorists were wrong, and the men of practical ideas were right. It was proved that there were singularly few cases of foundering among these vessels, and that fewer lives were lost in them than in any others. This is not the only instance in which Lloyds' Classification Committee have been proved wrong in their opinions. They refused in the same way, for some time, to class Turrets. I was obliged to give up a conditional contract which I had made with Messrs. Doxford and Sons, of Sunderland, for the first built of these, in consequence of their refusal to class. But Turrets have now been well tested, and prove very superior sea-boats. Underwriters, indeed, could not have better risks; and, what is as good a test as any of a vessel's seagoing qualities, is the readiness of seamen to join and their reluctance to leave it.

But each successive depression in shipping unrolls the resources of the mind, and there are evolved new ideas which disclose advantages hitherto unknown. They may not be great, but they are usually sufficient to make it possible to carry on a profitable trade instead of stopping altogether or working at a loss. It was this that brought the Switchback into existence: a vessel, by the way, which has a short, deep well forward; a long bridge; raised after deck; and a long well and poop aft. Then came the Turret, and then the Trunk; and last, the Single Decker on the "three-deck rule." I do not believe it possible that any of these will ever founder if they are properly handled, if their cargoes are properly stowed, and if no accident to machinery or stearing-gear occurs. They may come into collision with something, run on to a sand-bank or reef, and then founder, but not by force of hard buffeting. I am persuaded that the chances are a thousand to one in favour of them pulling through any storm in any ocean. But this is not all that can be said of them. The men that compose the crew have spacious, comfortable, healthy quarters, whereas in the old days, besides the prospect of being taken to Davy Jones's locker, men were housed in veritable piggeries: leaky, insanitary hovels, not good enough to bury a dead dog in.

WAGES AND WIVES

When I first went to sea, and for many a long day after, I used to hear the sailors who were more than a generation my seniors, talking of the wages they received during the Russian war aboard collier brigs trading from the north-east coast ports to London, France, and Holland. They used to speak of it with restrained emotion, and pine for an outbreak of hostilities anywhere, so long as it would bring to them a period of renewed prosperity! Able seamen boasted of their wages exceeding by two or three pounds a voyage what the masters were getting. It was quite a common occurrence at that time for colliers to be manned entirely with masters and mates. They stowed away their dignity, and took advantage of the larger pay by accepting a subordinate position. Of course it was the scarcity of men that gave them the opportunity. They were paid in some cases nine to twelve pounds a voyage, which occupied on an average four weeks. The normal pay was four to five pounds a voyage for each man, all food, with the exception of coffee, tea, and sugar, being found. The close of the big war brought, as it always does, a reaction, and it is safe to say that collier seamen have never been paid so liberally since. The racing with these extraordinary craft was as eagerly engaged in as it was with any of the tea clippers. It was an exciting feature of the trade which carried many of them to their doom almost joyously. Their masters were paid eight pounds per voyage, and if their vessels were diverted from coasting to foreign trades their stipend was eight to nine pounds a month. Considering the cost of living in those days, it is a marvel how they managed, but many of them did not only succeed in making ends meet, but were able to save. They owed much to the frugal habits of their bonny, healthy wives, who for the most part had been domestic servants, or daughters of respectable working men, living at home with their parents until they were married. They were trained in household economy, and they were exclusively domesticated. Educational matters did not come into the range of their sympathies. They were taught to work, and they and their homes were good to look upon. Many of these thrifty girls married swaggering young fellows who were before the mast. They were not merely thrifty, but ambitious. Their ambition was to become captains' wives; nor did they spare themselves to accomplish their desire promptly. They did not overlook the necessity of inspiring their husbands with high aims, and in order that their incomes might be improved these married men were coaxingly urged to seek an engagement as cook—a post which carried with it ten shillings per month more than the able seamen's pay, besides other emoluments, such as the dripping saved by skimming the coppers in which the beef or pork was boiled, and casking it ready for turning into cash wherever the voyage ended. The proceeds, together with any balance of wages, were handed over to the custody of the imperious lady, who was continuously reminding the object of her affection that he should apply himself more studiously to learning during his voyages, so that he would have less time to stay at the navigation school, and more quickly achieve nautical distinction when their savings amounted to the sum required for passing the Board of Trade examination first, only mate, and then for master. But once they got their mate's certificates, financing became easier; and, although domestic expenditure might have increased, the good lady steadily kept in view the joy that would light up their home and come into her life when she could hear her husband addressed by the enchanting title of "Captain!" Hence the effort to save became a fixed habit.

When their object was attained, and the husband had passed his examination successfully, he soon got a command, and although the pay was small many of these men, with the assistance of their wives, saved sufficient to take an interest in a vessel. This was an achievement never to be forgotten. The news spread quickly over a large district. The gossips became greatly engaged, and the distinguished person was the object of respectful attention as he walked up and down the quays or public thoroughfares with an air of sanctified submission. It was a great thing to become part owner of a vessel in those days when large dividends were so easily made, and a small share very often led up to considerable fortune.

It is not to be supposed that the only road to success was through the galley doors. I do not mean that at all. There were scores of men that became shipmasters on our north-east coast who never sought the opportunity of figuring in the galley, and even if they had they could not have cooked a potato without spoiling it! It has long been a saying among sailors that "God sends grub and the devil sends cooks," and the saying is quite as true to-day as it was when cooks had not the advantages they have now of attending cookery classes. I merely relate the story of how a number of these men of the middle of last century added to their incomes in order that they might not stint their families of the necessaries of life, and at the same time might put aside a little each voyage until they had accumulated sufficient to enable them to stay ashore and pass the necessary examination. How a certain section of these men acquired their diplomas will always be a mystery to themselves and to those who knew of them. They were sailors every inch, and they claimed no higher distinction. It would be ridiculous to suppose that they were representative of the higher order of captain. With these they had nothing in common. Indeed, they were a distinct race, that disdained throwing off forecastle manners; whereas the higher type of captain, wherever he went, carried with him a bright, gentlemanly intelligence that commanded respect. The higher class of man nearly always soared high in search of a wife, not so much in point of fortune as in goodness, education, useful intellectual attainment—a lady in fact, combining domestic qualities compatible with his position. The merely intellectual person did not appeal to him. It was rational culture he sought for, a companionable woman indeed, who could use her hands as well as her head. Sometimes their judgment erred, and carried them into a vortex of misery.

The swift pulsations of a generous heart generally do lead to trouble if not well steadied by sound judgment. One of the most pathetic instances of this I have ever heard of occurred to a man who was high up in his profession. I knew him well. He was held in high esteem by his many friends. But his big soul was too much for him. He made the acquaintance of a young lady who intoxicated his fancy. She was beautiful: a quick, attractive girl of twenty-one, who could talk brightly of things that excited his attention. Soon she told him a piteous tale of domestic trouble. She was an artist in words and facial expression. Her whole being was indicative of a guileless life. One morning by appointment they met to say goodbye, for he was to sail from London that afternoon in command of a large vessel on a long voyage. She was brimming over with sparkling wit that overjoyed him. She skilfully hinted of marriage on his return, and playfully adjured that he should not allow other attractions when he was abroad to lessen his affection for her.

"Ah," said she, "sailors are so good, I fear you may not be an exception."

"Well," said he, "as you seem to have some doubt as to my bonâ-fides I think the question may be settled by my marrying you now."

"What!" said the fair maiden, "this forenoon? Surely you will allow me to consult my mother?"

"No," said the captain; "that would spoil the romance, and make it uninteresting. We must be spliced at once." And they were. The result was a ghastly tragedy. The lady turned out a termagant. Happily she did not live long, but while she lived it was terrible. He told me the tale long after, and the pathos of it, in all its hideous detail, was piteous. It sank deep into his life, and changed his whole character. He was a man of culture, and in the affairs of life displayed unusual common sense. No one could comprehend how he came to be drawn into this ill-assorted union, that might have sacrificed two lives.

There is no body of men who should be so careful in choosing their wives as sailors, no matter what their rank may be. If they have children, the sailor, or captain, sees little of them, and can have no part in their training, whereas the mother has it in her power to fashion their lives either for good or evil. She is always with them, and the responsibility of forming their characters must rest almost entirely with her. It would be a reckless exaggeration to say that all successful men had good wives; but I think it safe to assume that a large majority of them are blessed in that way. One thing is certain, if you see a well-conditioned, well-behaved child, there is a good mother and a good wife behind it. And it may not be unsafe to assert that the successful man nearly always owes some of his success to his wife's assistance. She may not have assisted actually in the business itself, but she may have done better still by holding her tongue at the proper time, and watching a suitable opportunity of making an appropriate suggestion, avoiding saying or doing anything that will irritate and break the continuity of thought which is essential to the husband's success. A great deal may be achieved by discreet silence.

The wages of captains sailing in north-east coast brigs and barques that traded to the Mediterranean, Brazils, West Indies, and America, ranged from ten to twelve pounds per month. Those trading to the East Indies received fourteen pounds, and some out of their wages had to find charts and chronometers. London owners paid higher wages to their captains, but less in proportion to their crews. These commanders were on the whole a very intelligent, well-conducted lot of men. They had high notions, perhaps, of their importance, but they did no ill to anybody by this. There were occasional squabbles between their mates and themselves, and sometimes bickerings with the crew, but these were never of a very serious or lasting character; in fact, I have known men sail for years with one captain, and it was delightful to witness the treatment and mutual respect shown to each other. The men were frequently far more jealous of their captain's dignity than he was himself. There were others whose dignity became a slavish occupation to sustain. It sometimes happened if the master and mate differed on some minor matter that their relations became childishly strained, and each asserted his rights until the feeling softened. The captain always claimed the starboard side of the quarter-deck as his special parading ground, the mate the port. It often happened when these disagreements occurred the master, to show his authority more drastically, would ask the carpenter for a piece of chalk and draw a line down the centre of the deck. When this was done the aggrieved commander would address his chief officer in a deep, hollow voice that was obviously artificial. "Sir," or "Mr.," he would begin, "I wish to impart to you that your conduct has been such as to cause me to draw this line so that our intercourse may not be so close as it has been. Please do not presume to attempt any familiarity with me again; stick to your own side!" This piece of grotesque quarterdeck-ism was made all the more comical by the serious way it was taken by the mate and enforced by the master! It did not occur to them that there was something extremely humorous in it. Another ludicrous custom was this: if the master and mate were on deck together, though there was ample room for both to walk on the weather side, the mate was always supposed to give way to the captain, and walk on the lee side, no matter what tack the vessel was on. If the officer in charge was smoking, and either standing or walking on the weather side, and the captain came on deck, immediately the short cutty pipe was taken out of his mouth, and, as a mark of respect, he passed to leeward! It was considered the height of ill-manners for a mate or second mate to smoke a churchwarden or a cigar!

The food that was supplied to these north country "southspainers" was neither plentiful nor good. It was not infrequently bought in the cheapest and nastiest markets—in fact, it is not an exaggeration to say that large quantities of it were not fit for human beings to eat.

The owners were, as a rule, of humble birth. Many of them inherited frugal habits from their parsimonious parents, and many of them became miserable misers independent of any hereditary tendency. If their generous impulses ever did swell big enough to give the captains a few delicacies, they were overcome with fear lest extravagance should enter into their lives, and therefore they hastened to caution them with imploring emphasis to take special care not to allow too much to be used, as luxuries of that kind were very costly! The captains were put to sore straits at times to carry out the wishes of their owners in doling out the food; and it often happened in the process of economising they became imbued with the same greedy ways as their employers. It would not be fair to charge all north-east coast owners of that period with the shame of stinting their crews of proper food; those who did so had no idea that they could be accused of being criminally mean. Their lean souls and contracted little minds could only grasp the idea of making money, and hoarding it after it was made. Hundreds of fine fellows had their blood poisoned so that their teeth would drop out, and their bones become saturated with virulent scurvy owing to the unwholesome food the law provided they should eat. The hereditary effects of this were in some cases appalling, and yet while this was going on never a voice in the country was raised effectually against it; and if the conditions under which the sailor lives to-day are vastly improved on what they were in the sailing-ship days, he has neither the country nor the Parliament of England to thank for it, but the new class of shipowner who sprang into existence simultaneously with the introduction of steam.

There were many of the old shipowners and shipmasters generous in all their dealings with their men; but my experience compels me to say that a great number of them were heartless skinflints. The economical measures adopted by some captains in order that their supplies might spin out were not only comic, but idiotic. For instance, the master and his chief officer had their meals together, and if they were not on very lovable terms the few minutes allowed the mate was a very monotonous affair owing to the forced and dignified silence of his companion, who eyed with disfavour his healthy appetite; but this did not deter him from continuing to dispose of the meagre repast of vitiated salt junk. The request to be helped a second time broke the silence and brought forth language of a highly improper nature, and did the indiscreet officer happen to boldly go for the butter-pot after he had partaken of beef he was eloquently reminded that those who "began with beef must finish with beef," and those who "began with butter must finish with butter"! I quote the exact words, for I have heard them. If the mate was of a quarrelsome disposition he retaliated by declaiming against any attempt to restrict his food. Then followed mutual cursings, and hot recriminations. The title of gentleman was repudiated, and "you're another" substituted. But these little squabbles generally passed away without any permanent resentment; and although the mates may have strongly disagreed with the starvation policy of their captains and owners, as soon as they got command themselves they adopted the selfsame methods, and in some cases applied them with a rigour that would have put their former commanders to shame. The scale of provision was a scandal to any civilised nation. Both owners and captains were well aware of this, and shamefully used it as a threat to prevent men from justly complaining of the quality or quantity of food they were being served with. An opportunity was often made so that the men might be put on their "whack," or, to be strictly accurate, the phrase commonly used was "your pound and pint," and as an addendum they were dramatically informed that they should have no fresh provisions in port. The men, of course, naturally retaliated by measuring their work according to the food they got; and then it was seen that the game was to be too costly and too perilous. The common-sense commander would find a judicious retreat from an untenable position, and the blockhead would persevere with it during a whole voyage, and boastfully retail a sickening story of meanness to an audience who, he cherished the idea, would regard him as a hero! How much bitterness and loss was caused by this parochial-minded malignity can never be estimated. It was undoubtedly a prolific factor in making sea-lawyers, and a greater evil than this could not be incubated. The sea-lawyer always was and always will be a pest on land, and a source of mischief and danger on the sea. But while so much can be said against the tactless, and, it may be, the vindictive captain, just as much can be said against some crews who ignored the duty of submitting to control. They feasted on unjustifiable grumbling and discontent. They loafed and plotted to destroy all legitimate authority, and very often made it a perplexity to know how to act towards them. I do not class these men with the criminal class of which I have spoken; there is a very wide distinction between the two. The men I am now speaking of, at their worst, never went beyond loafing, grumbling, and plotting to evade some technical obligation.

The wages of the mate aboard these south-going craft were £5 5s. per month, the second mate got a pound above the A.B.'s, who, on these voyages, were paid £2 10s. to £2 15 s. per month. The cook and steward (one man) got the same as the boatswain, the carpenter, and the second mate. The scale of wages for officers and crew aboard a tea clipper was regulated on more aristocratic lines. Their hands were carefully picked, and, as a rule, they carried double crews, exclusive of officers and petty officers. Both pay and food were vastly better in the clippers than that of the average trader. The statutory scale of provisions was, however, the same for all. A copy of it appears on the opposite page.

SCALE OF PROVISIONS

NOTE.—There is no scale fixed by the Board of Trade. The quantity and nature of the Provisions are a matter for agreement between Master and Crew.