When our tonnage in the foreign trade almost reached the million mark in 1810, the most efficient ships in the world were those under the American flag. And the character of our merchant seamen is shown by the fact that when the British confiscated one of our ships, they were obliged to cut down her spars before they could handle her. And yet some of our nautical writers would have us believe that American ships increased in number in those days because, they say, a discriminating duty laid on imports brought to the country in foreign ships afforded "protection" to ships under the American flag!

CHAPTER IX
THE BEGINNINGS OF STEAM NAVIGATION

IT will help us to appreciate the work of the men who first experimented with steam-driven ships if we recall the fact that James Watt, working at Soho, near Birmingham, England, invented the engine which used steam on both sides of the piston in 1782, and that it was for many years after that date an enormously heavy and cumbersome machine. From this fact we see the state of the mechanic arts in England at the end of the eighteenth century, when practical experiments in steam navigation were first begun. That the state of those arts was still lower in the United States would be naturally inferred from the story of Bond's efforts to restrain progress by reëxporting the machinery that had been imported at Philadelphia. As a matter of fact, when one American inventor began to make experiments in steam navigation, he was obliged first of all to train men in the work of building engines; he was unable to find, anywhere in the country, men with the necessary skill.

One of the most curious of the early experiments was that made by James Rumsey, who was a bath tender at a pleasure resort in Virginia. He first planned to mount an old-style, single-acting engine in a boat, connect it with a pump, draw in water through a pipe at the bow, and then force it out astern. When this plan was explained to Washington, he wrote a testimonial, saying, "the discovery is of great importance." A boat built on this plan was eventually driven at a speed of four miles an hour. Rumsey also experimented with a screw propeller, but he was poor, and could not carry the experiment to a conclusion. Finally he went to England to get capital (a fact to be remembered), and there he died before he could accomplish anything of real moment.

Another interesting experimenter was John Fitch, of Pennsylvania, a man who was handy in the use of tools, and who was also a surveyor and map-maker. On December 2, 1785, he presented to the American Philosophical Society of Philadelphia a model, with drawings, of a steamboat. The New Jersey legislature then gave him the exclusive right to navigate the waters of the State with steamboats, and a company was organized to develop the invention. The first engine built had a 3-inch cylinder. It was mounted in a skiff and was connected at one time with a screw propeller, at another with an endless chain dragging alongside, and with a "screw and paddles," but neither device would drive the boat at a practical speed. Then Fitch conceived the idea of driving with paddles somewhat after the fashion of canoe men. This plan worked so well that a boat forty feet long was built and furnished with an engine having a 12-inch cylinder. In spite of the fact that the cylinder of this engine had wooden ends that leaked, and a piston that did not fit the bore, the boat was driven at a speed of four knots an hour.

In 1788 Fitch built a boat sixty feet long with a larger engine, and in October she carried thirty passengers to Burlington, New Jersey, a distance of twenty miles, in three hours and ten minutes. The speed of this boat being unsatisfactory, still another was built, and in May, 1790, she covered a measured mile in seven and a half minutes, or at the rate of eight miles an hour. She was then put on the river as a packet plying between Philadelphia and Trenton, and made more than thirty trips of which records remain. She was operated by paddles at the stern.

Though Fitch's plan was not the best conceivable, it is now admitted that his boat was a mechanical success. He built a workable boat, but, unhappily, he was far ahead of his day in his hopes and work. The people were not yet ready for steam navigation, and the company failed to pay dividends. Meantime another boat that he had built to run on the Mississippi was wrecked, and that loss ended the enterprise. Fitch finally went to the banks of the Ohio, where he continued his efforts without success.

"The day will come," he wrote, "when some more powerful man will get fame and fortune from my invention, but nobody will believe that poor John Fitch can do anything worthy of attention." Then he killed himself.

In 1786, Oliver Evans, a Philadelphia millwright, asked the legislature of the State to give him the exclusive right to build steam gristmills and road-wagons,—automobiles, in other words,—but his plans were not treated seriously. In 1801, however, he built a steam plaster mill, and in 1804 he demonstrated, in a way that yet astonishes the reader, the entire feasibility of steam navigation.

Having obtained a contract for dredging some of the slips along the Philadelphia water front, he built a scow, 30 ✕— 12 feet large, to carry the dredge. The scow was put together at his shop, which was located a mile from the Schuylkill. When done, he mounted a steam engine, (5 ✕— 19 inches large), on its deck, placed temporary wooden axles with temporary wooden wheels underneath, connected the axles and engine shaft, and then steamed away to the river. There he removed the wheels and put a paddle wheel at the stern for use afloat. Then he launched his scow, steamed down the Schuylkill and up to the slips he was to dredge. The engine was thereafter used in the work of dredging. Although that was in 1804, the people were not yet ready for steam navigation. The only practical result of the work of Evans was the adoption of the high-pressure engine, so called. His engine had no condenser. It exhausted its steam into the open air, and this style of engine was found to be best adapted for use on the steamboats of the Western rivers, later on.

In the meantime Robert Fulton, who was to succeed, had been at work. Fulton was a Pennsylvania artist who had shown so much talent that he went to England to study under Benjamin West. In the meantime, however, he had been greatly interested in mechanics, and had dreamed of steamboats. In London his thoughts turned more and more to mechanics, and in 1793 he abandoned art to take up his life-work.

In the popular view the most interesting chapter in Fulton's life is that relating the story of the first voyage of his first steamship; but for the encouragement of struggling inventors the most important facts in his life are those showing how he went about his task. For Fulton made a thorough study of his subject; while experimenting for himself he took care to learn as much as possible about what others had already done in the same line. In modern days, when every important invention is known to be a development from crude ideas and appliances into a perfect design, it seems not a little curious to read that in Fulton's time his method of work—his determination to learn his subject thoroughly before building—was considered not quite creditable. Invention, it was thought, consisted in working out an inspiration in the dark!

Fulton's first effort to build a steamship was made in 1794, when he went to Paris and tried to induce the National Convention to take up the invention, and thus "deliver France and the whole world from British oppression." Of course the chaotic conditions in Paris prevented the realization of his hopes.

Returning to England, Fulton published a pamphlet on steam navigation (1796), but failed to interest the people. Then he became interested in marine torpedoes and submarine navigation. With these ideas he went again to Paris (1802), where he made experiments in working a boat under water, but failed to convince Napoleon, who was then the despotic ruler of France. While thus engaged, however, he met Robert R. Livingston, the American minister to France. In connection with John Stevens and Nicholas J. Roosevelt, of New Jersey, Livingston had already made experiments looking toward steam navigation on the Hudson, and in aid of his enterprise had secured from the legislature of New York the exclusive privilege of navigating New York waters with steamboats. This privilege had expired by limitation, and the experiments had come to an end, so far as he was concerned, but on meeting the enthusiastic Fulton he at once became interested again, and furnished money for further experiments. Thereupon Fulton built a steamboat that, when launched upon the Seine, in 1803, instantly broke in two and sank. The frames were not strong enough. Fishing up the engine, Fulton built a stronger hull, and this time the engine worked, though the speed was so slow that only Fulton and Livingston believed the experiment to be a success.

With the optimism that breeds success, Fulton, backed by Livingston, now made drawings of an engine to be used in a boat which he purposed building upon the Hudson, and these plans he carried to England, where he ordered his engine of Watt, who was building the most efficient engines in use.

In the meantime, William Symington, a Scotch engine builder, had been experimenting with steamboats. In 1789 he had installed an engine upon a double-hulled yacht, with which one Patrick Millar navigated Lake Dalwinston, in Scotland. Although Millar spent $150,000 in experiments with steam, nothing came of them. In 1801 Symington induced Lord Dundas, president of the Forth & Clyde Canal Company, to build a steam-tug for towing barges.

This tug, named the Charlotte Dundas, had an engine with a 22-inch cylinder (stroke four feet), and the piston was connected directly with the shaft of a stern paddle-wheel by means of a piston rod and a connecting rod—a plan of such simplicity that it came into universal use later on. The rudder of the boat was handled by means of a wheel placed near the bow, and this plan, too, received universal approval. In March, 1802, this tug towed two 70-ton barges nineteen miles and a half, against a strong wind, in six hours. As a demonstration of the feasibility of steam navigation on smooth water, that passage should have been entirely convincing, but the fear that the wash from the wheel, or wheels (for Symington thought to try side-wheels), would injure the banks of the canal, prevented the adoption of the tug.

Fulton had learned about the experiments with this tug, and while in England contracting for the engine mentioned, he went to Scotland and visited Symington, who fired up the boat and showed Fulton how it worked.

In December, 1806, Fulton came to New York, where he contracted with Charles Brown, who had a shipyard on East River, between Stanton and Third streets, for the hull of a new boat. The model of this hull is memorable. In planning ships in those days it was customary to make them approximately three and a half times as long as they were broad, and at least half as deep as they were broad. But Fulton's plans called for a keelless hull 140 feet long over all, by 13 feet wide, and only 7 feet deep. One feels a certain sympathy, even now, for the sailors of that day who, on learning the facts about this ship, named it Fulton's Folly.

The boiler for supplying the engine with steam was 20 feet long, 8 wide, and 7 feet deep. It was set in masonry. The fuel used was dry pine. The engine had a cylinder 24 inches in diameter with a 4-foot stroke. It was not a typical Watt engine, however, for Watt's piston rods were kept in line by a combination of levers and rods known as a "parallel motion," while Fulton had called for a cross-head on the end of the piston rod, and the cross-head worked in guides in an A-frame. From each end of the cross-head hung a connecting rod. These connecting rods were joined to a "bell-crank," which was not unlike a "walking beam" in the modern river-boat, but it was located down in the hull. Connecting rods led from the bell-crank to cog-wheels on the inner ends of the two main shafts. The cog-wheels served as cranks which turned with the vibrations of the bell-crank. The paddle-wheels were on the outboard ends of the main shafts, of course. Then cog-wheels on the inner ends of these shafts geared into pinions on a smaller shaft which carried two fly-wheels, placed outside the hull, which were provided to carry the engine over the "dead centre" at each end of the stroke. The paddle-wheels were 14 feet in diameter. The main shafts were each of cast iron, and 4½ inches in diameter. The A-frame and guides, the cross-head, the bell-crank and connecting rods to the cross-head, and crank cog-wheels, the crank-wheels, paddle-wheels, and shafts, and the fly-wheels and their driving gear were all of Fulton's design.

According to Fulton's diary, he paid Watt £548 for the engine. The boiler, built by Cave & Son, of London, cost "at 2s 2d the pound, £476 11s 2d." This was the first engine of the kind that Watt was allowed to build for export, and Fulton writes on March 22, 1805:—

"Fee at the treasury on receiving permission to ship the engine to America, £2 14s 6d."

Fulton had no little trouble in raising the money for his boat. Livingston contributed the larger share, while Joel Barlow and David Dunham gave the next larger shares. The remainder of the sum was collected among personal friends by personal solicitation, and that was work that tried the soul of the man. The fact that the engine lay on the pier where it was landed for a period of six months because Fulton could not raise the money to pay the freight is significant.

At 1 o'clock, as the start was described by the Evening Post, everything seemed ready, and Fulton told Captain Moses Rogers^[6] to cast off the lines. The order was given to the engineer, Stevens Rogers, a relative of the captain, to start the machinery. A long blast was blown on a big tin horn as a warning to near-by boats, and then there was a "strange creaking, whirring, churning sound, a hiss of the escaping steam; the awkward-looking wheels, towering full seven feet above the deck on either side, began to turn, and we were really started on the first steamboat voyage on the Hudson." The next moment, however, the spectators saw the machine come to a sudden stop, and, supposing it had failed, they gave a derisive shout. The captain of a passing river-sailing packet sheered his boat close in to the pier line, and "made a sarcastic offer" to "throw us a line and tow us to Albany."

Perhaps the jeering at this time did not hurt Fulton so much as that previously mentioned, for he had ordered the engine stopped in order to readjust the boards or floats on the paddle-wheels. He had noted that they dipped too far into the water. An hour or more passed while the crew did this work. When it was done and the throttle was again opened, there was less strain on the machinery, and the Clermont moved smoothly away from the landing.

"The jeers of the ignorant, who had neither sense nor feeling enough to suppress their contemptuous ridicule and rude jokes, were silenced for a moment by a vulgar astonishment which deprived them of the power of utterance till the triumph of genius extorted from the incredulous multitude which crowded the shores shouts and acclamations of congratulation and applause." (Colden's Life of Robert Fulton.)

Heading across to the west side of the river to escape the main current of the tide, the Clermont passed the sloop whose captain had jeered her (the passengers on the Clermont yelled ecstatically at him when they saw his look of wonder), and then steamed along under the shadows of the Palisades. Night came on as she entered the Tappan Zee, and because it was a dark night the crews of a number of river-sloops saw a vision that they remembered vividly the remainder of their lives. For while they gazed down the river, knowing nothing of an experiment in steam navigation, they saw far away through the darkness the flame and sparks that poured from the smokestack of the Clermont—a cloud of fire moving along between heaven and earth like that which had guided the Children of Israel in the desert. Then, as it drew near, a hoarse growling was heard and a frightful form was seen coming up the river directly against the tide. In abject terror many crews jumped into small boats and fled ashore. Others sought shelter in the holds of their boats and drew the hatches tight, while others still fell upon their knees "and besought Providence to protect them from the horrible monster."

In the meantime the guests on the Clermont (she carried invited guests only on this trip), finding the river air somewhat chilly, gathered in the cabin, where, by the flickering light of a "candle in its high protecting glass," they discussed "the popular Salmagundi papers," speculated "on Mr. Irving's forthcoming Knickerbocker's History of New York," and finally "began to ply Mr. Fulton with questions about the steamboat and what had led up to it." They also sang "Ye Banks and Braes o' Bonny Doon," a favorite song with Fulton.

Twice on the way up the river the Clermont stopped for fuel, one of the deck hands awakening the echoes with the big tin horn on each occasion to let the wood-yard men know that she was about to land. Then, just twenty-four hours after leaving New York, she cast anchor before the home of Livingston. The distance she had covered was 110 miles. She remained here until the next day, and it is noted in the histories that during the evening Livingston and a party of friends boarded the Clermont, where, in a congratulatory speech, he announced the engagement of his niece, Miss Harriet Livingston, to Robert Fulton.

Leaving the next morning at 9 o'clock, the Clermont reached Albany at five in the afternoon. In her run to that city the Clermont had averaged just under five miles an hour, regardless of wind and tide.

While neither freight nor paying passengers had been carried on the trip up, the boat was now advertised as a packet. Thereupon a number of men came on board for a passage to New York, and when one of these tendered the money for the trip, tears came into Fulton's eyes. For more than twenty years he had hoped against hope, and now he saw the fruition of his work.

"Although the prospect of personal emolument has been some inducement to me," he wrote to an intimate friend, "yet I feel infinitely more pleasure in reflecting on the immense advantages my country will derive from the invention."

On her return to New York the Clermont began her career as an Albany packet, with regular dates for leaving each end of the route. She was advertised in the Evening Post, of New York, on September 2, 1807, as follows:—

"The North River steamboat will leave Paulus Hook Ferry on Friday the fourth of September, at six in the morning, and arrive at Albany on Saturday at six in the afternoon.

"Provisions, good berths, and accommodations are provided.

"The charge to each passenger is as follows:—

"For places, apply to Wm. Vandervoort, No. 48 Cortlandt Street, on the corner of Greenwich Street.

"Way passengers to Tarry Town, etc., will apply to the captain on board.

"The steamboat will leave Albany on Monday the seventh of September at six in the morning, and arrive at New York on Tuesday at six in the evening."

Meals were served without extra charge, and baggage weighing sixty pounds was carried free with each adult passenger. The freight rate to Albany was three cents a pound. The Clermont left New York on her first trip as packet at 6 o'clock in the morning on September 4, 1807, carrying twelve through and three way passengers. It was noted in the papers of the period that people were very much incensed because the steamer left her pier promptly at the hour advertised. They had been accustomed to having the river-sloops wait for them.

Morrison points out, in his American Steam Navigation, that no single detail of the Clermont was invented by Fulton. As the North American Review of July, 1838, says, the "great and surpassing merit of Fulton consisted not so much in absolute originality as in the skill with which he availed himself of all the theoretic knowledge of the day, and applied it to practical purposes." His choice of location for the inauguration of steam navigation is to be noted, for New York and the Hudson afforded an amount of traffic perhaps more valuable than could have been found elsewhere for such a vessel. Moreover, he was fortunate in making the trial at a time when the public were sufficiently enlightened to appreciate the value of steam.

The number of passengers and the amount of freight carried by the Clermont in the fall of 1807 led Fulton to rebuild her during the winter, in order to give her greater capacity. Having a monopoly of the waters by act of the legislature (the monopoly was contrary to the Constitution of the United States, but the courts did not decide the matter until 1824), Fulton had no trouble in raising capital, and with the growth of traffic a new steamer, the Car of Neptune, was placed on the river in 1808. The Paragon was built in 1811, and in 1812 the Fire Fly was built for way traffic. On the whole, however, the evolution of steam navigation on the Hudson was slow, at least so far as improvement in the vessels employed was concerned, until the monopoly was broken. For Fulton died in 1815, and his associates were not progressive. In 1825 an opposition line put on two steamers that were much superior to those of the old line, and in 1827 they added a third. In this year Robert L. Stevens, a son of John Stevens, put a third line of steamers on the river, and in 1828 some Albany capitalists sought a share of the traffic with a steamer called the De Witt Clinton that made a record of more than fourteen miles an hour between Albany and New York.

In 1832 the companies on the river consolidated, and used the superfluous boats in a night line that was successful from the first.

Two notable improvements were made in the engines in the meantime. Robert L. Stevens designed a light wrought-iron "walking beam" to replace the heavy cast-iron beam that was previously used. Then in 1824 James P. Allaire, who had made a reputation as an engine builder, brought out a "compound" engine. A compound engine has two or more cylinders of different diameters coupled to the one shaft. In the Watt engines the steam was conducted from the boiler to one end of the cylinder and allowed to flow in until the piston was driven almost to the opposite end. Then it was shut off and the way to the condenser was opened. Later it was found that if the flow of steam was cut off at half the length of stroke and the steam already in the cylinder was allowed to work by expansion, the total power of the engine was reduced only a little, while the saving of coal was very great. While thinking of this fact, it occurred to Allaire that the principle involved might be used to better advantage if the steam was taken at full pressure into a small cylinder and exhausted thence into a second and larger one to work by its expansive power. The Henry Eckford, the Sun, and a number of others were supplied with engines on this principle. The Eckford had a small cylinder 12 inches in diameter and a large one of 24. Both had the same stroke, of course. But, curiously enough, it was not until about 1870 that compound engines became the fashion.

The racing era, as one may call it, began on the Hudson about 1835, the year that Daniel Drew became interested in the Hudson River steamers. Racing had been done before the consolidation of 1832, but it was mild in comparison with that under Drew's initiation. An unreasoning mania for speed took possession of the public as well as of the owners of steamers. Though no practical end was to be served by the saving of an hour in the time required in the trip from New York to Albany, every sacrifice was made and every risk was taken to secure it. Instead of going to a pier or dock to land way-passengers at the towns along the river, the unfortunates were dumped into a small skiff that was towed at the end of a long rope. Then, as the steamer ran in close, but not too close, to the landing, the man in charge of the skiff, using a steering oar, sheered it within a few feet of the landing, and the passengers were told to jump. And jump they did. Of course a few fell into the water at every trip; perhaps some were drowned thereby. But the steamer's reputation for making quick passages was maintained, and for a long time the public protested in vain. When legislation was invoked (1842) the act was opposed as an unwarranted attempt to interfere with private business which could much better regulate itself!

It is an interesting fact that while the racing on the Mississippi resulted in the explosion of many boilers and the consequent loss of hundreds of lives, no such disasters occurred on the Hudson. The Hudson immunity was due to a difference in machinery. On the Mississippi "high-pressure" engines were used—there was no condenser, and the steam, which was sometimes carried at a pressure of 150 pounds to the square inch, was exhausted, after use, into the open air. When the safety-valve on such a boiler was tied down and the fire was urged until an explosion followed, the whole boat was ripped to pieces. On the Hudson condensers were used because the water was deeper and the extra weight was not of quite so much importance. Moreover, fuel was more expensive, and the low-pressure engine was more economical. Hudson River boats often reached the end of the run with boiler-plates bulging and ruined, but the heartrending disasters of the Mississippi were unknown in the East.

From the Hudson the use of steam spread first to the Delaware. John Stevens, who had been associated with Livingston and Roosevelt at the end of the eighteenth century, continued his experiments after Livingston went to France as American minister. He could not find any mechanics fit to help him carry out his ideas, but he built a machine shop and trained young men for the work. In 1804 he made a number of trips on the Hudson with a 25-foot boat that was propelled by screws. He also invented the tubular boiler "which at least has been the means of working wonders, for in a boiler six feet long, four feet wide and two feet deep he exposed four hundred feet of surface, in the most advantageous manner, to the action of fire." (Macfarlane, History of Propellers.)

In 1807, while Fulton was bringing out the Clermont, Stevens had a smaller, but none the less practical, boat, almost ready. He missed the honor of leading by no more than two weeks. Being unable to use her on the Hudson, Stevens, in June, 1808, sent her to the Delaware, under the command of Captain Moses Rogers, who had commanded the Clermont on her first voyages, and his son, Robert L., served as engineer. Thus this vessel—she was named the Phœ“nix—was the first steamer that ever went to sea. On the Delaware the Phœ“nix proved a commercial success.

The next step in the expansion of steam navigation was taken when Nicholas J. Roosevelt built the steamer New Orleans at Pittsburg (1811), and demonstrated to the incredulous frontiersmen of the region—especially to the "half horse, half alligator" keel boatmen—that a steam-driven boat could overcome the current of the swiftest part of the Mississippi.

In 1813 Fulton and his associates reached out for alongshore trade by building the Fulton for use between New York and New Haven, but because of the activity of the British war-ships on the blockade, she did not make her first trip until March 21, 1815, when she carried thirty passengers to New Haven in eleven hours.

The Massachusetts was the first steamer in use at Boston. She began plying to Salem in 1817. In the same year the Fire Fly was sent from New York to Rhode Island, where she was used between Providence and Newport. Rounding Point Judith in this vessel was considered a feat showing extraordinary courage, and this, too, among sailors who thought nothing of a voyage around the world in a ship less than a hundred feet long.

In 1818 the Walk-in-the-water was built at Black Rock, (now a part of Buffalo), on the Niagara River, for use on the Great Lakes. When ready for her trial trip, she was unable to stem the river current until eight yoke of oxen were brought to her assistance, but once on the lake she did well. She made her first trip to Detroit, starting on August 20, 1818, and covered the distance in about forty hours, using a cord of wood an hour.

By the annual report of the Commissioner of Navigation it appears that four steamboats, aggregation 457 tons, were built in the United States in 1812, the first year for which there is a record. In 1813 seven of an aggregate tonnage of 1430 were built, and in 1819 the number was twenty-eight, with a tonnage of 7291. More than a hundred had been built in all. This expansion was almost but not quite all made upon inland or sheltered waters. Fulton had looked toward the high seas. He had built a steamship, which he named the Emperor Alexander, to sell to the Russian government, but the War of 1812 prevented his trying to navigate her across the ocean, and she was eventually worn out at home. During the war he built the huge war steamer Demologos, a vessel fit to go along the coast, and crude as she was, she would have changed the manner of war at sea had she been set afloat a year sooner.

The year 1819 is especially memorable because a transatlantic steam passage was then made. It appears that Captain Moses Rogers was the originator of the venture. In 1818 Francis Fickett built a common sailing ship at New York that was 100 feet long by 28 broad and 14 deep. Rogers had had the honor of first navigating the sea with a steamer, and he had been selected in 1816, because of his reputation for courage and skill, to take the steamer New Jersey from New York to the Chesapeake, a voyage thought to be full of danger for such a vessel. He was now inspired with the ambition to be the first to drive a steamship across the Atlantic, and after a look at the ship that Fickett was building, he persuaded Scarborough & Isaacs, ship merchants of Savannah, to buy and fit her with a steam engine for use between Savannah and Liverpool.

The engine for this ship was built by Stephen Vail, of Speedwell, New Jersey, and the boiler by David Dod, of Elizabethtown, New Jersey. It is worth while to interrupt the narrative to consider these two facts. At the beginning of the century mechanics had been so scarce in the nation that Stevens had to train men for his work. But in 1819 mechanics and shops fitted for engine building were found not only in the larger cities but in some of the smaller towns close to navigable waters. That these shops had been brought into existence through the mechanical progress—perhaps it may be called the mechanical awakening—that was due to the success of steam navigation is beyond question. Many machine shops had been built, and were profitably employed. They not only built engines, but other tools for many kinds of work. The day when a British consul like Bond could hamper the progress of American manufactures by reëxporting tools made in England was passing.

The paddle-wheels fitted to the new ship for use on the Atlantic were made of iron. They had eight radial arms, each so arranged (according to Preble) that they could be folded up like a fan and laid inboard when the ship was under sail; for her sailing rig was retained.

Leaving New York on March 28, 1819, under Captain Rogers, this ship (she was named Savannah) ran to her home port in eight days and fifteen hours, during which she used steam for forty-one and a half hours. On May 24 she sailed for Liverpool, and made the passage in twenty-seven days, during which she used steam for eighty hours. While off the coast of Ireland the crew of a revenue cutter that saw her supposed she was on fire, and made haste to go to her assistance. In a trip from Liverpool to St. Petersburg, Russia, occupying, with stops at ports on the way, thirty-three days, she was under steam ten days. She finally arrived back at Savannah on November 30, and then went to New York, where her machinery was removed and sold.

The Savannah was what would now be called an auxiliary steamer; steam was used when the wind did not serve. She failed to inaugurate steam traffic across the Atlantic chiefly because of the space occupied by fuel—wood.

Although Captain R. B. Forbes, one of the ablest seamen the nation ever produced, built an auxiliary steamer (the Massachusetts) in 1845, that made profitable voyages, and there were features of the system that make it seem very attractive for certain trades, few vessels of the class have ever been used.

The year 1819 is also memorable because of an effort to establish a line of steamers running from New York to New Orleans, with stops at Charleston, South Carolina, and Havana, Cuba, on the way. The line was maintained for five years, and then withdrawn because it could not be made to pay.

In 1819, too, a ship was put on the route between Mobile and New Orleans, but this was also a failure.

In 1822 the steamer New York began to ply between New York and Norfolk, but she was unable to compete with the sailing packets. The steamer Patent, that began making regular voyages between Boston and Maine ports in 1823, also failed to pay dividends.

Not to add details of this kind, it may be said that while fortunes were made in steamboats plying on inland waters of the United States, almost every venture made with American steamers upon the ocean during the thirty years following the Clermont's first trip on the Hudson proved unprofitable. In connection with this dismal record the story of the steamer Home, built for the trade between New York and Charleston, South Carolina, is instructive. Keeping in mind the fact that this steamer was designed to round Cape Hatteras, where the worst storms on the coast were known to rage, consider these facts: the Home was 212 feet long by 22 wide and 12 deep. She was nearly 18 times as long as she was deep, and she was built of wood, at that. The engine, which was placed near the centre, as usual, had a cylinder 56 inches in diameter, with a stroke of 9 feet, and that is to say it was enormously heavy for a hull of such proportions. A set of iron braces was provided on each side to strengthen the hull, but on the first trip they "broke loose from their sockets on deck at their forward ends, by the elastic movement of the vessel in a heavy sea," as W. C. Redfield, a New York engineer, said in describing the vessel.

Two voyages were made with no greater visible injury than the breaking, on each voyage, of the worthless braces. On November 9, 1837, as the Home was bound on her third voyage, she was overtaken by a northeast gale, and shortly after passing the Hatteras shoals, it was found that the "elastic movement" of the hull, which, according to Engineer Redfield, was "necessarily and properly manifested," had opened an uncontrollable leak. The Home was then driven on the beach, where she at once went to pieces. About a hundred lives were lost.

It is important to note here that Engineer Redfield, in writing his defence of the Home (1842), was entirely sincere. Further than that, the owners of the vessel were so confident that she was of a proper model in all respects that the only insurance they carried upon her was for a small sum to secure a creditor.

From this story, and others of the kind to be found in the records, it appears that, while American designers were then building sailing ships and inland-water steamers that were highly profitable, they were astonishingly ignorant of the requirements of a steamship for deep-sea navigation.

In a search for the reasons for this curious condition of affairs it is found that the success of the inland-water steamers was the primary cause of the American failure at sea. The men who designed the sea-going steamers had been trained in their art by designing, first of all, steamers for inland waters. Because these inland-water steamers succeeded so well, it was entirely natural that similar proportions should be given to the engines that were to be used upon deep water. It was also natural to model the hulls as nearly as possible like the hulls on smooth waters. At the same time it was believed, incredible as the statement may seem now, that an "elastic" hull—one that bends to the lift of the waves as a rope does—was not only swifter but safer than a stiff one.

A paragraph as to the durability of the inland-water steamers will now prove instructive. In the report of Israel D. Andrews on "Colonial and Lake Trade" (Sen. Ex. Doc. 112, 32 Cong. 1 Sess.), it is said (p. 665) that "the period of the natural life of a steamboat" in use on the inland waters of the United States at that time (1851) was only "three and a half to four years." This statement included the steamers in use on the Great Lakes, which had much longer lives than those on the rivers.

With all these facts in mind, one sees why the deep-water American steamers failed. Led on by the success of the river steamers, the designers turned out engines of the lightest possible weight consistent with the greatest power, and then bolted them fast to the frames of hulls that were "elastic"—would yield to the waves like a rope. Not many of these steamers went to pieces as the Home did; good seamanship saved them from that fate; but neither good seamanship nor any economy practised afloat or ashore could make them pay dividends in the face of the enormous expense due to the wear and tear of machinery. Machinery built for speed could pay dividends on the inland waters because the steamers had no competition except that which they created among themselves, and that lasted for short periods only. The only competitors on the river-banks were stage-coaches and big wagons that were driven over the worst roads in the civilized world. The inland-water steamers charged what prices they pleased. At sea the steamers with their unfit machinery had to compete with the swiftest, most comfortable, and in every way the most economical sailing packets in the world. And until the designers had learned the requirements of a sea-going steamship, the sailing packets won.

CHAPTER X
PRIVATEERS, PIRATES, AND SLAVERS OF THE NINETEENTH CENTURY

WHEN seen in its true light, one of the most curious and interesting chapters in the history of the American merchant marine is that relating to the men who, having the might, used it to take from those who were weaker not only property but liberty and life; but the reader who supposes that superior ability, natural or acquired, gives him the right to take more of the good things of life than his less-favored neighbor receives, will scarcely comprehend the facts.

The fighting done by the American merchantmen who were commissioned as privateers during the War of 1812 has been well described by our histories of the navy, but the story of one battle is worth recalling briefly because it may well stand in some respects for the story of the entire fleet. On March 26, 1815, the privateer schooner General Armstrong, Captain Samuel Chester Reid, anchored in Fayal Roads, in the Azores. As night came on, a British squadron, bound for New Orleans, came into the roads, and on seeing the Armstrong, sent four boats full of men to capture her. A well-directed broadside from the privateer sent them in haste back to their ships, but a little after midnight the enemy came again in twelve boats, carrying more than 400 men. Each boat was armed with a cannon. The Armstrong had 90 men, and she mounted a long 24-pounder on a pivot with four 9-pounders in each broadside.

When the flotilla came within point-blank range, Captain Reid opened a fire that would have beaten back any other civilized enemy, but this veteran host pulled steadily in until the boats were alongside from stem to stern, and then they rose up, as one man, and strove to board the low-lying schooner. But with sword and pike and battle-axe the privateersmen fought not only for life but to avenge the wrongs that had been suffered by American seamen at the hands of press-gangs, and even British valor could not face them. One of the defeated wrote that the "Americans fought more like blood-thirsty savages than anything else." We may believe that they were thrilled with the joy of battle, and if a modern, peace-loving American is ever permitted to envy any of his countrymen who have had part in any battle described in the histories of the nation, the men of the General Armstrong will come to his mind first of all. But a liner, a frigate, and a brig were at hand to back the boats, and at last Reid had to burn his ship.

The gallant fight and the ultimate loss stand for much good fighting without profit in the work of our private armed ships during the War of 1812. Our histories, almost without exception, have overstated the success of the privateers and their influence upon the course of the war. A few of these ships—a very few—made enormous profits; the others made insignificant gains or actual losses. Our histories laud the work of the few that really succeeded; they ignore all that failed, save only as the reader is left to infer that all, or nearly all, did well. Thus the fact that the Rossie, of Baltimore, Captain Joshua Barney, in a single cruise, captured vessels supposed to be worth more than $1,500,000 is told in every history; the equally well-authenticated fact that Barney's share of the plunder amounted to only $1000 (see Mary Barney's Memoir), because the much-vaunted prizes were either destroyed at sea, or were sold for little or nothing in port,—this fact is deliberately omitted.

In the matter of net gains the Rossie stands as a type of the successful privateers, with a few exceptions. On November 23, 1812, less than six months after war was declared, and while the successful privateers were securing the best of their prizes, the privateer owners of Boston, New York, and Norfolk united in a petition to Congress, begging help through legislation because captured goods sold for such low prices that no profit was made by even the successful privateers. The captured ships, it was said, could not be sold at any price, even when fit for use as privateers. In short, "the profits of private naval warfare are by no means equivalent to the hazard." (Rep. Com. Ways and Means, December 12, p. 3.)

In Guernsey's New York City During the War of 1812 is a list of the privateers sailing from that city—120 in all. Of these, 57 took not one prize. It is to be presumed that 21 of them made some money, because they took at least 5 prizes, while 7 took at least 15, and it may be supposed that they did well. But when it is remembered that in those days a ship commonly paid for herself in one voyage in ordinary trade, it cannot be said that privateering was of any special benefit except to three or four that took many prizes.

The total number of merchant ships that were used for privateers during this war was 515, and the total number of prizes was 1345. The British admiralty reported the capture of 1328 American merchantmen, of which 228 were privateers. The unrecorded disasters to privateers through storms certainly brought the number of total losses of these vessels up to a half of all that were commissioned. It is notable, too, that the number of American merchantmen captured by the enemy was only thirteen less than the number taken from the enemy, and it follows that the American losses were greater, in this respect, than those of the British; for the American ships were, on the average, worth much more than the British. On the whole it appears that, if the predatory part of the War of 1812 had any influence upon the result, the Americans were the greater losers.

Then, too, the losses of property were only one part of the injury inflicted upon the country by this kind of war. A consideration of the effect of the prevailing greed for a "subject of safe and uncontested capture" is of special interest here because some of the owners of our privateers, influenced solely by this greed, became pirates after the war ended. The Spanish colonists in America had revolted, beginning in 1810. The insurgent armies were scattered in small bands, here and there, in the vast territory between Texas and the Rio de la Plata, and the leader of every band was a law unto himself. But in every revolted province some aggregation of patriots—some junta—was recognized by foreign powers as enough of a government to be entitled to belligerent rights. When the War of 1812 came to an end, the privateers that were loath to give up their predatory career looked away to the Spanish main. The insurgent leaders were competent to commission armed cruisers for war upon Spanish commerce, and rich Spanish ships were afloat.

Some of the work done by American ships sailing under Spanish-American commissions is memorable. Two that were owned in Baltimore brought to Norfolk, in March, 1817, coin and cochineal valued at $290,000, and there is reason to suppose that Captain James Chaytor, who was senior officer of the two, and one of the best known of the men so engaged, brought to port property worth half a million of dollars in the course of that year. One of Chaytor's prizes was a galleon from the Philippines, and it was taken within sight of Cadiz.

Captain Joseph Almeda, of Baltimore, was another noted commander of this class of cruisers. In a vessel named the Congress he blockaded the port of Havana for weeks at a stretch, and took prizes almost within range of the Morro.

For a time the American people applauded the success of these cruisers, because it was supposed that they were aiding struggling patriots to gain liberty. The story of one of the cruisers, as told in court, however, in time changed public opinion. Captain James Barnes, commanding a Baltimore cruiser named the Puerrydon, with a commission from Buenos Ayres, captured on March 21, 1818, the Spanish brig Corrunes, while she was carrying general merchandise from Tarragona, Spain, to Vera Cruz, Mexico. A prize crew of seven men was placed upon the prize, and five of her Spanish crew were left on board to help work ship. On May 8 a storm separated the two vessels, whereupon the foremast hands upon the prize mutinied, put their officers upon a passing merchantman, and then went cruising along the coast of the United States. They were not bound for any particular port; they were just enjoying life while they might. Eventually they ran ashore on Block Island, and when the inhabitants came to the beach to look at the stranded brig, the mutineers began trading the cargo of the vessel for fresh provisions, and later for coin. The islanders made such good bargains that they sent for friends in Newport to come over and share in the good fortune, but that was an error of judgment, because the revenue officers thereby learned about the trading, and brig, crew, and some of the traders were haled before the United States court.

The trials that followed were among the most remarkable ever reported in the annals of the Supreme Court. Although held in jail on the charge of piracy, the crew libelled the vessel on the ground that they had rescued her from Barnes, whom they denounced as a pirate. Captain Barnes and the other owners sued for the property on the ground that Barnes had captured it while he was a citizen of Buenos Ayres, and in command of a lawful Buenos Ayres cruiser. A Spanish consul sued for it in behalf of the original owners. In the court of last resort it was held, in spite of much perjury, that the naturalization of Barnes in Buenos Ayres was "altogether in fraud of the laws of his own country," and that the owners of the cruiser were asking for the possession of a vessel that they had captured "in violation of the most solemn stipulation of a treaty, and provision of a law of their own country, and of which they had been dispossessed by their own associates in guilt."

"It is a melancholy truth," continued the court, "too well known to this court, that the instruments used in these predatory voyages, carried on under the colors of the South American states, are among the most abandoned and profligate of men."

Under the treaty mentioned, these American-owned cruisers were pirates. How many cruisers of the kind were fitted out from American ports (there were some European ships in the business also) cannot be learned now, but a list of twenty-eight is printed in the Annals of the Fifteenth Congress. The list is incomplete. Most of them were owned in Baltimore, and in 1823 the Columbia, South Carolina, Telescope denounced that city as "the home port of a fleet of Spanish-American pirates." In reply to this, Niles's Register, dated May 24, 1823, said:—

"Perhaps it may afford the editor of the Telescope some satisfaction to learn that every person who was fully regarded as being engaged in whatever could have given rise to his censure for piracy has become a bankrupt as well in character as in property."

It is to be noted, further, that these cruisers were not pirates merely by the existence of a treaty with Spain. They captured the ships of all nations when it could be done safely, and sometimes they did this openly. When Almeda was blockading Havana, he seized a British vessel at the mouth of the harbor because she happened to have some Spanish property on board. But the most deplorable cases were those in which the ships were seized by cruisers that had been unlucky. For in such cases the prizes were robbed and then sunk with all hands.

Still another result of the work of these pirates was the establishment of two remarkable communities, one in Texas and the other in Florida, both of which territories were then under the Spanish crown. Both settlements were made to provide a market for the goods which these cruisers captured; for after the decision of the courts noted above, the prizes could be no longer sent to the United States.

The Texas community was established by Jean Lafitte, who had had much experience as a smuggler at Barataria Bay, Louisiana, both before and during the War of 1812. He had also made several cruises on pirate ships—enough to learn that more money could be made buying prizes from the cruisers than in cruising.

Lafitte went to the island where the thriving city of Galveston now stands, late in 1816, and found there a number of shanties which had been built by one Luis de Aury, a pirate who had intended to establish such a nautical "fence" as Lafitte had in mind. But Aury thought the distance from the United States too great, and left the place to Lafitte, who at once sent word to all the ports of the warm seas that he was at the head of "an asylum to the armed vessels of the party of independence." The asylum included facilities for repairing vessels, stores for the sale of supplies, and numerous taverns and other places of resort for the crews. In short, a town—seaport—was built there by capitalists and mechanics, but all paid tribute to Lafitte. As at Barataria, slave-ships were more highly prized than any others because of the ease with which the "goods" could be smuggled into the United States. When General James Long, a noted Texas filibuster, visited the settlement, he found that "doubloons were as plentiful as biscuit," while the harbor was strewn with the wrecks of prizes.

After a time Lafitte went through with the forms of organizing the "Republic of Texas," and elected a governor, who appointed a justice to preside over the court of admiralty that the constitution of the "Republic" had provided. Then cruisers were commissioned and prizes were condemned, but when these condemned prizes were sent to New Orleans, they were seized by the United States authorities, and some of the pirate crews were hanged. Nevertheless, it was not until 1821—after nearly five years of unmolested prosperity—that Lafitte was driven away, and even then he was allowed to carry away all of his portable plunder. To add to the interest of the story, when Lafitte left the island he disappeared forever. Rumor said he was seen in Mexico, and in the thick of a fight at sea, and in France, but the truth is that he had gone to the port of missing ships. When the Luis de Aury mentioned above left Galveston Island, he cruised around for a while, and then, on September 2, 1817, landed on Amelia Island, Florida, where Fernandina now stands. A Scotch adventurer named MacGregor had been trying to build a town there and organize the "Republic of the Two Floridas," but without success. He sailed away when Aury came, and Aury continued the work of nation-building, combined with smuggling goods captured by "the party of independence." He thought the location admirable because of the proximity to the United States, but he soon learned that the convenience due to distance was more than counterbalanced by the attention attracted. Many speculators came to the camp and bought his goods, but the customs officials pressed them closely. Moreover, while Aury supplied the planters with cheap slaves, he was so short-sighted as to encourage Georgia slaves to leave their masters to join his forces. The Georgia planters who suffered losses in this way had no difficulty in persuading the Washington authorities to invade Spanish Florida and drive the pirate away—December 23, 1817. But Aury, like Lafitte, was allowed to carry away his plunder.

The effect of the piracies upon American commerce can be traced in the annual reports of exports and imports. Thus the exports of American products to the Spanish West Indies amounted to $3,606,588 in the fiscal year 1816-1817, while American exports of foreign goods to the same ports reached the sum of $3,477,511. The corresponding figures for 1819-1820 were $3,439,365 of American products and $2,545,717 of American exports of foreign goods. American tonnage fell off, also, of course. The common saying that there is no friendship in business is untrue. American commerce and the use of American ships were increasing in that period at an astonishing rate in all other trades, but Spanish resentment produced a "boycott" that is shown by the official returns.

But this boycott was the mildest form of expression of Spanish resentment. Within a short time after the American-owned cruisers under the Spanish-American flags began ravaging Spanish commerce, the Spaniards retaliated by making reprisals after the fashion common in the sixteenth century. Encouraged by the island authorities, the ship-owners of Cuba fitted out armed vessels to prey upon American commerce. The Cuban pirates were in no case commissioned, but the Porto Rico authorities gave commissions to half a dozen or more. The Cuban pirates, however, worked openly. Regla, a village on the east side of Havana Bay, was the chief pirate port. In November, 1821, eleven Spanish pirate vessels were cruising between Cape Maisi and Santiago, five were working as a squadron at Cape San Antonio, and at least five more were cruising on the north coast east of Matanzas. Between Havana and Matanzas was a flotilla of small boats the crews of which kept constant watch for vessels becalmed in the offing. All such vessels were attacked as soon as night came. Another gang of small-boat pirates operated at Cape Cruz, where they lived in the caves for which the region is noted.

The extent of the depredations of these pirates was never completely known, of course, but in Niles's Register of May 24, 1823, it is stated that 3002 piratical assaults had been committed upon merchant ships in the West Indies since the War of 1812. The "Naval Affairs" volumes of the American State Papers contain many accounts of such assaults, and it appears from these that the pirates not infrequently tortured captured sailors. In March, 1823, the captain and two men of the brig Alert, of Portsmouth, New Hampshire, were killed in the mouth of Havana harbor. The captain of the brig Bellisaurius, captured near Cape San Antonio, had his arms cut off, after which he was placed on a bed of oakum and burned to death.

The markets of Cuba were frequently flooded with merchandise taken by the pirates, and a number of schooners plied between Cape San Antonio and Regla to carry supplies to the pirate flotilla at work there and bring back captured goods.

The efforts of the Washington authorities to deal with the situation created by the American-owned pirate ships were, as noted, hampered at first by public sympathy for the Spanish-American insurgents. Even after the Spaniards began making reprisals, nothing effective was done until May 15, 1820, when Congress provided for the building of five swift war schooners, a force that was by no means sufficient to cope with the evil. Other ships of the navy were ordered to the region, and these were still further reënforced with a flotilla of small schooners bought in Chesapeake Bay. A number of huge rowboats were built to destroy the pirates operating in small boats near Havana, but the depredations continued; the aid of the Cuban authorities was sufficient to keep the pirates at work. It was not until the independence of the Spanish-American republics was acknowledged, and the Spanish-American privateers thereby lost their commissions, that piracy came to an end in the West Indies.

The last American vessel to suffer at their hands was the Mexico, Captain John G. Butman, of Salem. She sailed from home with $20,000 in coin, for Rio Janeiro, on August 29, 1832. On September 20 she was captured by the schooner Panda, Captain Pedro Gibert, of Havana. After taking out the coin, Gibert fastened the crew in the forecastle and set the Mexico on fire; but the crew released themselves in time to put out the fire. The Panda was captured later on the coast of Africa, a number of the pirates were sent to Salem for trial, and Pedro Gibert and four others were hanged. It is an interesting fact that two members of the Mexico's crew lived until 1905 and one until 1908. Life at sea agreed well with the New Englanders.

As the facts thus far given show plainly, the slave-trade had intimate relations with the pirates who operated under the Spanish-American flags, and later with those fitted out from Cuba; for the Panda cleared out from Havana for a cargo of slaves. But she carried no trade goods; her clearance for the African coast was merely a cover for the real purpose in view. Still, she might have brought a cargo of slaves to Cuba but for the interference of a British war-ship. But the American slave-trade lasted for thirty years after the captain of the Panda was hanged, and such acts of piracy as his had long been out of fashion in American waters.

By the act of Congress dated March 2, 1807 (it passed the House by a vote of sixty-three to forty-nine), the importations of slaves into the United States after January 1, 1808, was forbidden. The penalties provided included forfeiture of the vessel, and fines, together with imprisonment, for those involved.

As this legislation had been provided for in the Constitution of the nation, the trade in slaves was naturally brisk in the years immediately preceding prohibition. Thus, from January 1, 1804, to December 31, 1807, 202 ships imported 39,075 slaves into the port of Charleston, South Carolina. Of these ships, 61 were registered at Charleston (though generally owned elsewhere), 59 were owned in Rhode Island, from 1 to 4 in each of several other American ports, and 70 in England. While the prospect of prohibition increased the importations at this time beyond the normal, it is evident that a strong demand for slaves existed among slave-owners. The demand was particularly strong in the Mississippi Valley, where the profits on cotton were enormous. This demand naturally raised the price as soon as lawful importations came to an end. At the same time the existence of the American prohibitory law (England prohibited the trade at about the same time, too) depressed the price on the coast of Africa. Thus a premium was placed on smuggling, and 202 ships were afloat that had been engaged in the trade to one port alone.

All this is to say that while the law drove many ships out of the trade, it added much to the profits of those that remained in it.

Because the trade was continued, an effort was made to strengthen the law in 1818 by increasing the emoluments of informers. Then, by the Act of March 3, 1819, Congress authorized the President to use the naval ships to intercept slavers, and finally by the Act of May 15, 1820, all Americans engaging in the trade were declared pirates, who should be hanged on conviction.

One would be glad to believe that these laws were enacted because the American people had become sufficiently enlightened to appreciate the effects of the trade upon the human race, and especially upon the white people connected with it, but it is impossible to do so. The laws were enacted because of a passing wave of sentiment that had its origin in the work of the pirates herein described. In a dim way people saw that a connection existed between some of the pirates and the slave-trade. The slave-trade was held responsible (properly, too) for some of the horrors of the piracies, and while Congress was legislating against the pirates, it was easy to get acts against the trade passed. Moreover, the desire of the slave-owners to rid their States of free negroes was just then giving strength to the movement for sending those negroes to Africa—Liberia. In short, the prohibitory laws were the result of a sort of hysteria rather than of any real enlightenment of the American people. In truth, we are not so enlightened even now as to appreciate our whole duty toward the inferior race—properly a race of children—we brought from Africa.

As said, prohibiting the trade did but increase the profits of those who disregarded the law, but a more memorable result of prohibition was the effect upon the unfortunate victims of the trade—the increase in the horrors of the middle passage. A brief description of the ships used in the trade will help one to understand how the slaves were affected.

The American slave-ships were usually small vessels, say 100 feet or so long, and 10 or 12 deep. On the way to the coast what was called the slave-deck was laid. By means of beams, stanchions, and rough planks a temporary deck was built 3 feet below the regular deck. The naked slaves were placed upon this deck. In the days of the lawful trade they were compelled to lie down on their backs, shoulder to shoulder, with heads outboard in a row all around the slave-deck. Then other rows of the kind were made on the deck inside of the first row until the deck was entirely covered. When the law prohibited the trade, the slavers increased the number carried to the utmost capacity of their vessels, in order to increase the profits and cover the risks. To do this they compelled the negroes to lie down on their sides breast to back,—"spoon fashion,"—or else they were made to sit in rows, breast to back, from the wall of the ship to the centre. When sitting thus, the only air-space between the two decks was that over the rows of shoulders and between the rows of heads. When lying down, the air-space was greater, but whenever the vessel heeled to the wind, those on the lee side had to lie with their feet higher than their heads, and when the vessel rolled to the waves all of them sawed to and fro over the cracks between the unplaned deck boards. Moreover, the slaves were kept fastened to the deck—they were not allowed to leave their cramped berths for any purpose save only at fixed hours, when they were fed and, in small gangs, were taken to the upper deck for a short airing. In storms the washing of the waves across the deck compelled the crew to put on the hatches and keep them on sometimes for days at a stretch.

Meantime the allowance of water was a pint a day. In short, the slave-ship was a horrible floating cesspool. How the inhuman drivers added to the sufferings of the wretched slaves by the use of the whip, and other means of torture, may be suggested by one story.

When the slaver Brillante, Captain Homans, with 600 slaves in her hold, was overhauled by British cruisers during a calm, and Homans saw that the boats of the cruisers would soon come to the vessel, he got the anchor in position as if for anchoring the vessel. Then the iron cable was stretched along the rail outside of all and held in place by slender cords. To this chain all the slaves were carefully secured by means of ropes and chains. Then, just before the cruisers' boats came into view (it was at night), the anchor was cast loose and the 600 slaves were dragged down to the bottom of the sea.

To save a vessel worth at most $5000 from confiscation, Homans murdered 600 negroes. The story is told in detail in the African Repository, Vol. XXIII, p. 371.

The profits in the trade are shown by the fact that slaves costing from $12 to $20 on the coast of Africa sold for $350, when delivered alive and able to walk, in Cuba. When smuggled into the United States, they sold all the way from $750 to $1000.

Old ships of known speed were in demand. Speed was necessary because the British government maintained cruisers on the coast that captured and confiscated vessels found with slaves actually on board. Our navy department sold the schooner Enterprise (the second of the name) to men in the slave-trade at a small fraction of her value. The swift privateers of the War of 1812 were also bought for the purpose. In later years it was the custom to build swift vessels especially for the trade. Baltimore and New York builders were patronized more than others, New York having the lead in later years. The builders always knew what trade the vessels were to enter, and charged accordingly. No builder ever lost standing in society because he turned out ships for this purpose. In fact, the slave-traders were well known, and they lived among the wealthiest society people of New York—at the Astor House, for instance, where they were in the habit of meeting to arrange the details of their voyages. Public documents show that the most respected merchants of the city were ready to go on the bonds of these slavers, when bonds were required. A New Bedford whale-ship owner who was convicted of fitting out one of his vessels for the trade was afterward elected mayor of his city. Even after the Civil War was begun, a United States district attorney—a man appointed by Lincoln—was seen dining at the leading New York restaurant with a slaver whom he should have been prosecuting at that moment; for while the two ate together, the slaver talked about a slave voyage that he intended to make.

Though American packets had for years controlled the trade between the United States and Europe, and the American clippers were making records that stirred the whole nautical world, the flag from those proud ships was used to cover the reeking slime in the slaver's hold, and it was the only flag that could protect the slaver from inspection on the African coast. These facts were well known, but they roused not a tremor of indignation among the American people, not one, save only in the breasts of a few "fanatics," and the arguments of the fanatics were answered by asking, "How would you like to have your sister marry a nigger?"

The story might well be forgotten—it would have been omitted here but for the fact that the humiliation of it may serve in righting wrongs as yet unheeded, or but partly heeded, which, if less brutal, are born of the same greed and the same disregard for human rights that made the slave-trade possible in the United States until after the middle of the nineteenth century.