The Colonial Clippers

by Basil Lubbock

1855-1857—Captain Anthony Enright and the “Lightning.”

When Forbes was given the Schomberg, James Baines offered the command of the Lightning to Captain Anthony Enright, who had earned a great reputation as a passage maker in the tea clipper Chrysolite. At the same time the White Star Line asked Enright to take over the Red Jacket, and it was only after considerable deliberation that he decided to take the Lightning, first demanding a salary of £1000 a year. The Black Ball Line replied that it was a great deal more than they had ever previously given to their captains, but eventually they agreed to his terms rather than lose such a good man.

Captain Enright had the Lightning for four voyages, from January, 1855, to August, 1857, and proved himself perhaps the most popular and successful captain under the famous house-flag; indeed, under him the Lightning became a very favourite ship with passengers.

Enright was a very religious man, a Puritan of the old type yet no bigot: a stern disciplinarian, the men before the mast knew that he was sure to give them a square deal, impartial and just, and fair treatment for good service, and for that reason never gave him trouble, whilst in controlling his passengers and keeping a happy ship in spite of the trials of such long passages and crowded quarters, he showed the most wonderful tact and gift for ruling men. This gift of tact was perhaps more desirable in the captain of an emigrant ship than in any other walk of life, especially in the days of the gold rush when the emigrants represented every nationality, every creed, every class and every trade; and the Lightning, under Enright, was as good an example of the best-run first-class emigrant ships as can be found. I therefore intend to give as good a picture of life aboard the Lightning during 1855-7 as I possibly can with the material at my command.

Captain Enright’s Regulations.

First of all I will give a list of Enright’s regulations for preserving order amongst his passengers, which were always posted up in prominent places about the ship.

RULES OF THE Lightning.

1st. No smoking or naked light allowed below.

2nd. All lights, except the hatchway lights, to be put out by 10 p.m.

3rd. No Congreve matches to be used in the berths or on the lower deck.

4th. Cleanliness and decorum to be strictly observed at all times.

5th. Every place below to be well cleaned every day after breakfast, for the inspection of the surgeon and chief officer.

6th. All bedding to be on deck twice a week.

7th. The ’tween deck passengers to appoint constables to preserve order and see these rules are strictly observed.

8th. The constables are to keep watch in their respective compartments for their own safety and that of their families; trim the lamps; report all misdemeanours, for which they will receive a glass of grog or a cup of coffee every morning.

9th. Second cabin passengers are not allowed on the windward side of the vessel; but can promenade at all hours on the leeward side.

10th. Passengers must not upon any account open the ’tween deck ports without my express permission: a violation of this rule may be attended with serious consequences, and will, in any case, be severely punished.

11th. Dancing and promenading on the poop from 7 till 9 p.m., when all passengers may enjoy themselves, but not abaft the mizen mast. The promenaders are not in any way to interrupt the dancers, but will be expected to promenade in parts of the poop where dancing is not being carried on.

12th. On account of the overcrowded state of the poop and to satisfy all parties, third class passengers are only allowed on the quarterdeck from 7 till 9 in the evening.

13th. The use of the private staircase (into the saloon) is strictly prohibited after 11 at night.

14th. No person allowed to speak to the officers of the watch whilst on duty: nor to any of the quartermasters, whilst at the wheel.

15th. All parties not complying with these rules will be liable to have a part of their provisions deducted as a punishment, as the commander and officers may think fit.

Anthony Enright, Commander.

The Passengers on the “Lightning.”

Perhaps a few details regarding the number and kind of passengers, for which these rules were framed, may now be of interest.

In 1855 the Lightning took out 47 saloon, 53 second cabin, 20 intermediate and 253 steerage passengers, her crew numbering 87; total of souls on board—495.

In 1856 her purser gave the following details of the outward bound passengers:—

Saloon—Adults 39: children 12:Total	51
’Tween deck—Married adults male	42
„ „ female	55
Single „ male	184
„ „ female	33
children	47
infants	7
crew	85
Number of souls on board	504

On the homeward passage the numbers were naturally very much less, and women were not so numerous.

In 1855 the Lightning brought home 51 saloon, 123 second cabin and 80 intermediate; total—254. On her second voyage that year, owing to the accident to her false bow when outward bound, she could only muster 80 passengers.

In 1856 her homeward bound passengers consisted of:—

Saloon—Adults 31; children 3;	Total	34
’Tween decks—Married adults male		10
„ „ female		10
Single „ male		114
„ „ female		1
children		6
infants		4
crew		77
Total all told		256

All Europe sailed from Liverpool to the Australian goldfields, so that all nationalities were to be found in a Black Baller’s foc’s’le.

I find the following account in the Lightning Gazette, the newspaper published on board, of 1855:—“Here in the steerage we find there are many nations, including Jews, Germans and French; the largest number, however, being English with a few Irish and Scots. Here are all ages and not all, but many, trades and occupations. Here are some more or less successful diggers, who had returned to their native land to gratify a feeling of love and affection; or it may be vanity; and who are now returning to settle in the land of promise.”

The homeward bound passengers were just as mixed if only half as numerous—thus the Gazette when homeward bound in 1856:—

The passengers generally are a very mixed community, English and French, American and German, Italian and Pole, young and old, merry and sad, the open-hearted and the reserved, the enterprising merchant and the adventurous gold digger, artizan and mechanic, soldier and sailor, prosperous husbands returning to escort their wives and families to the Colony, and the disappointed man, cheered alone by the magic influence of once again beholding home.

And under the heading of “The Gent Afloat,” I find a very amusing description of the adventurer of the times aboard ship, and though it is rather long, it is such a vivid little study of a type of character, only too common in the snobbish mid-Victorian era, that I cannot resist giving it in full.

The Gent Afloat.

“This class of individual is to be found in great abundance in every clipper ship community. He is easily known, more easily detected. He is a man of vast importance when first he steps aboard; makes no advances; keeps aloof; is evidently selecting, with great caution, those with whom he dare associate without compromising his connections. After a little time, however, he—with a condescending grace, which cannot be too highly extolled—relaxes slightly his vigorous demeanour, and smiles upon the very young men of known good family (of course), occasionally honours them with his arm and promenades the deck for half an hour—is very careful during the peregrination to recount his latest adventures at home—the parting dinners Captain Allalie and Colonel Gammon would insist on giving him; the ballet dancer, who forsook an Earl for his advances and embraces; the prima donna who would insist on rehearsing her role before him as she entertained so high an opinion of his musical criticism and abilities. The borough he might have gone in for at the last election, with the Duke of Sarum’s interest, but that his own family objected on the score of difference in political opinions, and the positive certainty that in a few years his great talents and eloquence must command the most independent seat in the House.

“He is of an average height and features, with the exception of a protruding chin, which gives to the mouth a horrible grin; an eyeglass of course; luxuriant hair and whiskers, redolent of macassar. He apes the gait of a military man; wears a frock coat terribly inclined to the third and fourth letters of the alphabet; a waistcoat of the most approved and fashionable cut; trowsers of the loudest plaid style about two to the pair, with very ragged bottoms and straps, the latter article proving a very useful adjunct when the supply of socks falls short; a shirt with miniature cartoons after Raphael or a correct likeness of the last murderer and the last ballet dancer printed upon it; a necktie of the striking stripe pattern, to make him smart. His whole appearance is indicative of a worn-out Stultz. His hands are covered with a variety of rings, from the enamelled and delicately wrought diamond to the massive and substantial signet bearing his crest. An immense watch chain (bearing a striking resemblance to the ship’s cable) with an abundance of charms attached completes the tout ensemble of the outer man. His wardrobe is somewhat limited—but this he accounts for by—‘D—n those agents, the rascals have put my trunks marked “wanted on the voyage” in the hold, and left out those “not wanted,” isn’t it annoying? Could you lend me a few shirts until they’re got at?’ He is decidedly great at the borrowing dodge. Of course his cigars, tobacco and all the little comforts for the journey are in his trunks in the hold. But the way he solicits a loan of the required articles is irresistible. His natural grace (or impudence, we don’t know which) defies refusal. But at last even that—as all things good or bad will—palls and borrowing becomes a more difficult art. Friends shirk him, acquaintances avoid him, and long before the end of the journey ‘the Gent Afloat’ is known and scouted as a penniless, reckless adventurer void alike of honour or honesty.”

Shipboard Newspapers.

This account of an adventurer of the fifties came out of the Lightning Gazette, a paper published weekly aboard the ship.

Realising the importance of keeping such a mixed collection of passengers amused Messrs. James Baines put a printing press aboard each of their ships and thus the issue of the shipboard newspaper was something always to be eagerly looked forward to on Saturdays. In many an English and Australian home there are no doubt still to be found treasured, stained and tattered, copies of these ships’ newspapers. I have myself handled volumes of the Lightning Gazette, the Eagle Herald, the Royal Charter Times and coming down to more modern days, the Loch Torridon Journal and other Loch Line papers.

The printer of these ship newspapers was usually a paid member of the crew, but the editor and sub-editor were elected by the passengers, the captain, of course, acting not only as a frequent contributor but also as a censor—no matter of a controversial sort either religious, political or otherwise being ever allowed to appear in the news sheet of Captain Enright’s ship.

The Ship’s Notice Board.

The ship’s official newspaper sometimes had to contend against rival productions, promoted by private enterprise, but its chief rival was the ship’s notice board, which was a stout one, being no less than the mainmast.

Here are a few notices, gathered haphazard from the Lightning’s mainmast.

CLOTHING SOLD BY THE PURSER
Cigars, 2d. each; per hundred	£0 12 0
Do. Havannah	each 0 0 4
Canvas trowsers	0 3 6
Kersey drawers	0 3 6
Mits	0 1 0
Oilskin trowsers	0 5 6
Oilskin coats	0 7 6
Pilot cloth coats	0 5 0
Pilot cloth trowsers	0 12 0
Blue serge shirts	0 5 0
Regatta shirts (printed fronts)	0 3 6
Black alpaca coats	0 12 0
Felt hats	0 3 0
Sou’westers	0 2 0
Black glazed hats	0 4 0
Guernsey frocks	0 8 6
Scotch caps	0 2 0
Knives	0 1 6
Apply to C. T. Renny, Purser.

RAFFLES.

To be raffled for—
On Thursday next, June 7, at 2 o’clock,
A Splendid Model of the Lightning,
By 40 members, at 5/- each.
Application for shares to be made at the printing office.

HEALTH OFFICE

WANTED.

Swabbers to assist at the force pump and relieve two saloon passengers, who work with indefatigable zeal.

Application to be made to Dr. Colquhoun and Mr. Winter at 5 a.m. any morning.

The above is capital exercise, strongly recommended.

WANTED.

A washerwoman—one accustomed to get up gentlemen’s linen preferred. Apply to Mr. Neck, Chief Steward.

FOR SALE.

Opossum Rugs. Apply to Mr. Fysh, second cabin tween decks.

FOUND.

By the Boatswain of this ship, a coat with a pair of pincers in the pocket. The owner can have the same by paying expenses.

AUCTION.

On Wednesday next, at 2 p.m., a Public Auction will be held on the poop, when a large and well selected assortment of merchandise will be submitted to public competition by—

Charles Robin, Auctioneer.

Auctioneer’s Address—No. 5 After Saloon Stateroom.

Riddles and Epigrams, so numerous in the Gazette, were not, however, to be found on the ship’s notice board. The riddles are mostly very feeble, many of them making great play with the ship’s name, thus:—

Why is the Commander of our ship like the electric wire? Ans.—Because he is a Lightning conductor.

But there is a rather more interesting one of the times:—

Why is a scolding wife like American steamers? Ans.—Because she is fond of blowing up.

The epigrams are better, as follows:—

Upon seeing a lady filling a gentleman’s pipe on board the Lightning—

“I would that ladies’ hands might find

Something worthier to stuff

Nor give to those who are inclined

An opportunity to puff.”

and—

Upon seeing a young lady printing the Lightning Gazette:—

“An angel form in earthly mould

Upon my ink has shed a blessing,

And manly hearts to others cold

Cannot resist when she is pressing.”

The Ship’s Band and Concerts, etc.

Perhaps the most important method of keeping an emigrant ship’s passengers amused was by means of the ship’s band, especially in those days when dancing was so popular, that even in bad weather the poops of these ships were always crowded with dancers every evening.

Of course the bands provided were not quite on a par with those of present day leviathans crossing the Atlantic; the Lightning, for instance, rejoiced in the good old-fashioned German band, which used to be such an institution in the London streets and is now practically extinct. This band consisted of six musicians, and besides playing selections and accompaniments at the concerts, supplied the music for the daily dancing.

In those days the polka was the great dance, the valse had not yet come into fashion and was not very well known, and instead of the romping lancers the stately quadrille was the order of the day.

I find a set of instructions showing a sailor how to dance a quadrille in one of the numbers of the Lightning Gazette. It is rather too long to quote, but the following figure shows the gist of it:—“Heave ahead and pass your adversary yardarm to yardarm: regain your berth on the other tack in the same order: take your station in a line with your partner, back and fill, face on your heel and bring up with your partner: she then manœuvres ahead and heaves all aback, fills and shoots ahead again and pays off alongside: you then make sail in company until stern on with the other line: make a stern board and cast her off to shift for herself: regain your berth by the best means possible and let go your anchor.”

Looking over the old concert programmes, I find that negro melodies (now called coon songs) were even then very popular, amongst which figured “Nelly Bligh,” “Poor Old Joe,” “Stop dat Knockin’,” “Oh! Carry Me Back” and others. The rest of the programmes were generally filled up with the old familiar Scots and Irish folk-songs, some well-known English choruses, the usual sentimental ditty, and amongst the sailor songs I find “A Life on the Ocean Wave,” “Cheer, Boys, Cheer,” “I’m Afloat,” “The Pride of the Ocean” and “The Death of Nelson.” Concerts were generally pretty numerous during a passage. As a rule each class had its own; then, to end up, a “Grand Monster Concert” was organised, in which the talents of saloon, house on deck, and steerage were pitted against one another.

Other diversions of this kind were plays of the class of “Bombastes Furioso”; mock trials, with the invariable verdict of guilty on the wretched culprit and the sentence of “champagne all round,” and of course debating, choral and other societies.

Then there were the usual high jinks crossing the line; and such occasions as the Queen’s Birthday, the “Captain’s Wedding Day,” etc., were celebrated by “a cold collation of the most sumptuous order” in the saloon and many speeches.

A Bill of Fare on the “Lightning.”

In the first cabin the living on these big clippers seems to have been uncommonly good for such a length of time at sea. Here is the dinner menu of 14th January, 1855, on the Lightning, when a week out from Liverpool.

BILL OF FARE.

Soups—Vermicelli and macaroni.

Fish—Cod and oyster sauce.

Meats—Roast beef, boeuf a la mode, boiled mutton, roast veal, boiled turkey and oyster sauce, roast goose, roast fowl, boiled fowl, minced escallops, veal and ham pie, haricot mutton, ham.

Sweets—Plum pudding, rice pudding, roll pudding, tarts, orange fritters, small pastry.

Dessert—Oranges, almonds, Barcelona raisins, figs, etc.

Wines—Champagne, sparkling hock.

St. Valentine’s Day.

Captain Enright was very fertile in raising a new amusement directly his passengers began to show signs of boredom. His favourite dodge was to appoint a St. Valentine’s Day, when a letter box was placed in front of the poop and twice during the day the darkey steward, Richard, who was evidently a great character, came round and delivered the Valentines as postman. He was always dressed up for the occasion in some extraordinarily fantastic costume of his own invention—and his antics and fun, quite as much as the contents of his postbag, kept the ship in roars of laughter and most successfully dissipated all signs of boredom and discontent. Here is one account of his doings:—

Richard, the coloured steward, made a first-rate walker, dressed in the tip-top style of St. Martins-le-Grand, with gold-laced hat, yellow collar and cuffs to his coat and white tops to his boots: he acted the part of Cupid’s messenger to admiration and drew down thunders of applause. There was a second delivery in the afternoon on the poop, when Richard again made his appearance dressed in full general’s uniform.

And it goes on to say:—

The Valentines, which were very numerous, contained the usual amount of bitters and sweet, flattering verses and lovers’ vows; some amusing hits at marked propensities and a few rather broad hints at infirmities and habits were all taken in good part and the day passed off most pleasantly.

And here is one of the Valentines which Captain Enright received:—

To
Captain Go-ahead Enright, A1,
Ship “Flash of Lightning,”
who never cracks on, and is supposed to have
at no time seen a moonsail.
It is currently reported that he lays to
and turns in when it blows a gale.
N.B.—No certain address, but always to be found
ON DUTY.

Other Amusements at Sea.

During the time of the Crimea, if there happened to be a soldier or two aboard, a corps of volunteers was raised and drilled daily. A parade in bad weather was a great source of amusement to the onlookers, if not so pleasant for the performers.

In the fine weather deck games such as quoits, shovel board and deck billiards were as popular as they are nowadays, but I find no mention of sports, cock-fighting or ship cricket.

Below draughts, whist, chess, backgammon and dominoes all had many devotees; and on the homeward passage nap, poker, blackjack, euchre and other gambling games robbed many a returning digger of his pile and sometimes led to such trouble that the captain had to interfere.

Under captains of Enright’s stamp, there was very little disorder and the sailing ships seem to have carried a much happier crowd than the auxiliary steamers.

The ill-fated Royal Charter’s passage home in the summer of 1856 presents an example of a badly run and disciplined ship. The food was bad, everyone had a growl about something, drunken riots occurred constantly, fighting in which even the crew and stewards took a part was of almost daily occurrence, and excessive gambling ruined scores of returning diggers on the lower deck. I am glad to say that I can find no such instance of disorder and lack of discipline amongst the ships which relied upon sail power alone.