Chapter XIII. SHIP PACKET OF BOSTON
Having been two voyages to the West Indies and one to the Brazils, I began to regard myself as a sailor of no little experience. When rigged out in my blue jacket and trousers, with a neatly covered straw hat, a black silk kerchief tied jauntily around my neck, I felt confidence in my own powers and resources, and was ready, and, as I thought, able to grapple with any thing in the shape of good or ill fortune that might come along. I was aware that success in life depended on my own energies, and I looked forward to a brilliant career in the arduous calling which I had embraced. Like Ancient Pistol, I could say,
"The world's mine oyster,
Which I with sword will open!"
With this difference, that I proposed to substitute, for the present at least, a marlinspike for the sword.
Captain Page invited me to remain by the Clarissa and accompany him on a voyage to Gibraltar, but I felt desirous of trying my fortune and gain knowledge of my calling in a good ship bound to the East Indies, or on a fur-trading voyage to the "north-west coast" of America.
At that time the trade with the Indians for furs on the "north-west coast" was carried on extensively from Boston. The ships took out tobacco, molasses, blankets, hardware, and trinkets in large quantities. Proceeding around Cape Horn, they entered the Pacific Ocean, and on reaching the north-west coast, anchored in some of the bays and harbors north of Columbia River. They were visited by canoes from the shore, and traffic commenced. The natives exchanged their furs for articles useful or ornamental. The ship went from port to port until a cargo of furs was obtained, and then sailed for Canton, and disposed of them to the Chinese for silks and teas. After an absence of a couple of years the ship would return to the United States with a cargo worth a hundred thousand dollars. Some of the most eminent merchants in Boston, in this way, laid the foundation of their fortunes.
This trade was not carried on without risk. The north-west coast of America at that period had not been surveyed; no good charts had been constructed, and the shores were lined with reefs and sunken rocks, which, added to a climate where boisterous winds prevailed, rendered the navigation dangerous.
This traffic was attended with other perils. The Indians were bloodthirsty and treacherous; and it required constant vigilance on the part of a ship's company to prevent their carrying into execution some deep-laid plan to massacre the crew and gain possession of the ship. For this reason the trading vessels were always well armed and strongly manned. With such means of defence, and a reasonable share of prudence on the part of the captain, there was but little danger. But the captain and officers were not always prudent. Deceived by the smiles and humility of the natives, they sometimes allowed them to come on board in large numbers, when, at a signal from their chief, they drew their arms from beneath their garments and commenced the work of death. After they had become masters of the ship, they would cut the cables and let her drift ashore, gaining a valuable prize in the cargo, in the iron and copper bolts, spikes, and nails with which the timbers and planks were fastened together, and in the tools, furniture, clothing, and arms. A number of vessels belonging to New England were in this way cut off by the savages on the "north-west coast," and unsuccessful attempts were made on others.
The "ower true tales" of disasters and massacres on the "north-west coast" seemed to invest a voyage to that quarter with a kind of magic attraction or fascination as viewed through the medium of a youthful imagination; and a voyage of this description would give me an opportunity to perfect myself in much which pertained to the sailor and navigator.
After a delay of a few weeks the opportunity offered which I so eagerly sought. The ship Packet was preparing for a voyage from Boston to the north-west coast via Liverpool, and I succeeded in obtaining a situation on board that ship before the mast. I hastened to Boston and took up my temporary abode at a boarding house, kept by Mrs. Lillibridge, a widow, in Spring Lane, on or near the spot on which the vestry of the Old South Church now stands. I called immediately on the agents, and obtained information in relation to the details of the voyage, and commenced making the necessary preparations.
Several merchants were interested in this contemplated voyage, but the business was transacted by the mercantile house of Messrs. Ropes and Pickman, on Central Wharf. This firm had not been long engaged in business. Indeed, both the partners were young men, but they subsequently became well known to the community. Benjamin T. Pickman became interested in politics, and rendered good service in the legislature. On several occasions he received marks of the confidence of his fellow-citizens in his ability and integrity. He was elected to the Senate, and was chosen president of that body. He died in 1835. Mr. William Ropes, the senior partner of the firm fifty years ago, after having pursued an honorable mercantile career at home and abroad, occupies at this time a high position as an enterprising and successful merchant and a public-spirited citizen.
I laid in a good stock of clothes, such as were needed on a voyage to that inclement part of the world, provided myself with various comforts for a long voyage, and purchased as large an assortment of books as my limited funds would allow, not forgetting writing materials, blank journals, and every thing requisite for obtaining a good practical knowledge of navigation, and of other subjects useful to a shipmaster.
The Packet was a beautiful ship, of about three hundred tons burden, originally intended as a regular trader between Boston and Liverpool; but in consequence of her superior qualities was purchased on the termination of her first voyage for this expedition to the north-west coast. She was to be commanded by Daniel C. Bacon, a young, active, and highly intelligent shipmaster, who a few years before had sailed as a mate with Captain William Sturgis, and had thus studied the principles of his profession in a good school, and under a good teacher. He had made one successful voyage to that remote quarter in command of a ship. Captain Bacon, as is known to many of my readers, subsequently engaged in mercantile business in Boston, and for many years, until his death, not long since, his name was the synonyme of mercantile enterprise, honor, and integrity.
The name of the chief mate was Stetson. He was a tall, bony, muscular man, about forty years old. He had been bred to the sea, and had served in every capacity. He was a thorough sailor, and strict disciplinarian; fearless and arbitrary, he had but little sympathy with the crew; his main object being to get the greatest quantity of work in the shortest possible time. Stories were afloat that he was unfeeling and tyrannical; that fighting and flogging were too frequent to be agreeable in ships where he was vested with authority. There were even vague rumors in circulation that he indulged occasionally in the unique and exciting amusement of shooting at men on the yards when engaged in reefing topsails. These rumors, however, although they invested the aspect and conduct of the mate with a singular degree of interest, were not confirmed. For my own part, although a little startled at the notoriety which Mr. Stetson had achieved, I determined to execute my duties promptly and faithfully so far as was in my power, to be respectful and obedient to my superiors and trustworthy in every act, and let the future take care of itself. Indeed, this is the line of conduct I have endeavored to follow in every situation I have filled in the course of an eventful life, and I can earnestly recommend it to my youthful readers as eminently calculated to contribute to their present comfort and insure their permanent prosperity.
In a few days the Packet received her cargo, consisting chiefly of tobacco and molasses. It was arranged that she should take on board, in Liverpool, bales of blankets and coarse woollen goods, and boxes containing various articles of hardware and trinkets, such as would be acceptable to the savages on the coast. The ship was hauled into the stream, and being a fine model, freshly painted, with royal yards athwart, and colors flying, and signal guns being fired night and morning, attracted much notice and was the admiration of sailors. I was proud of my good fortune in obtaining a chance before the mast, in such a vessel, bound on such a voyage.
The crew was numerous for a ship of three hundred tons, consisting of eight able seamen, exclusive of the boatswain, and four boys. Besides a cook and steward we had a captain's clerk, an armorer, a carpenter, and a tailor. The ship's complement, all told, consisting of twenty-two. For an armament we carried four handsome carriage guns, besides boarding pikes, cutlasses, and muskets in abundance. We had also many coils of rattling stuff, small rope for making boarding nettings, and a good supply of gunpowder was deposited in the magazine.
The sailors came on board, or were brought on board by their landlords, after we had hauled from the wharf. Some of them were sober and well behaved, others were stupid or crazy from intoxication. It required energy and decision to establish order and institute strict rules of discipline among such a miscellaneous collection of web-footed gentry. But Mr. Stetson, assisted by Mr. Bachelder, the second mate, was equal to the task. Indeed he was in his element while directing the labors of the men, blackguarding this one for his stupidity, anathematizing that one for his indolence, and shaking his fist at another, and menacing him with rough treatment for his short answers and sulky looks.
One of the seamen who had been brought on board nearly dead drunk, showed his figure-head above the forescuttle on the following morning. His eyes, preternaturally brilliant, were bloodshot, his cheeks were pale and haggard, his long black hair was matted, and he seemed a personification of desperation and despondency. Stetson caught a glimpse of his features; even his fossilized heart was touched with his appearance and he drove him below.
"Down with you!" said he, shaking his brawny fist in the drunken man's face, "don't let me see your ugly phiz again for the next twenty-four hours. The sight of it is enough to frighten a land-lubber into hysterics, and conjure up a hurricane in the harbor before we can let go the sheet anchor. Down with you; vanish! Tumble into your berth! Take another long and strong nap, and then turn out a fresh man, and show yourself a sailor; or you'll rue the day when you first tasted salt water!"
The rueful visage disappeared, unable to withstand such a broadside, and its owner subsequently proved to be a first-rate seaman, and was an especial favorite with Stetson.
A circumstance occurred while the ship was in the stream, where she lay at anchor two or three days, which will convey a correct ides of the character of the mate. One afternoon, while all hands were busily employed in heaving in the slack of the cable, a boat, pulled by two stout, able-bodied men, came alongside. One of the men came on board, and addressing the mate, said he had a letter which he wished to send to Liverpool. The mate looked hard at the man, and replied in a gruff and surly tone, "We can't receive any letters here. The letter bag is at Ropes and Pickman's counting room, and you must leave your letter there if you want it to go to Liverpool in this ship."
"Never mind," exclaimed the stranger, "I am acquainted with one of the crew, and I will hand it to him."
Regardless of Stetson's threats of vengeance provided he gave the letter into the hands of any one on board, the man stepped forward to the windlass, and handed the missive to one of the sailors.
At this contempt of his authority Stetson's indignation knew no bounds. He roared, in a voice hoarse with passion, "Lay hold of that scoundrel, Mr. Bachelder. Seize the villain by the throat. I'll teach im better than to cut his shines in a ship while I have charge of the deck. I'll seize him up to the mizzen shrouds, make a spread eagle of him, give him a cool dozen, and see how he will like that."
The stranger, witnessing the mate's excitement, and hearing his violent language, seemed suddenly conscious that he had been guilty of a terrible crime, for which he was liable to be punished without trial or jury. He made a spring over the gunwale, and eluded the grasp of Mr. Bachelder, who followed him into the main chain-wales, and grabbed one of his coat tails just as he was slipping into his boat!
He struggled hard to get away, and his companion raised an oar and endeavored to strike the second mate with that ponderous club. The garment by which the stranger was detained, fortunately for him, was not made of such firm and solid materials as the doublet of Baillie Jarvie when he accompanied the Southrons in their invasion of the Highland fastnesses of Rob Roy. The texture, unable to bear the heavy strain, gave way; the man slid from the chain-wale into the boat, which was quickly shoved off, and the two terrified landsmen pulled away from the inhospitable ship with almost superhuman vigor, leaving the coat-tail in the hands of the second officer, who waved it as a trophy of victory!
Meanwhile Stetson was foaming at the mouth and raving like a madman. He ordered the steward to bring up his pistols to shoot the rascals, and when it seemed likely the offenders would escape, he called upon me, and another boy, by name, and in language neither courteous nor refined told us to haul the ship's yawl alongside and be lively about it. I instantly entered the boat from the taffrail by means of the painter; and in half a minute the boat was at the gangway, MANNED by a couple of BOYS, and Stetson rushed down the accommodation ladder, with a stout hickory stick in his hand, and without seating himself, seized the tiller, and with a tremendous oath, ordered us to shove off.
Away we went in full chase after the swiftly-receding boat, my young shipmate and myself bending our backs to the work with all the strength and skill of which we were master, while Stetson stood erect in the stern seats, at one time shaking his stick at the affrighted men, and hurling at their heads volleys of curses both loud and deep, at another, urging and encouraging us to pull harder, or cursing us in turn because we did not gain on the chase. The fugitives were dreadfully alarmed. They pulled for their lives; and the terror stamped on their visages would have been ludicrous, had we not known that if we came up with the chase a contest would take place that might be attended with serious, perhaps fatal, results.
The shore boat had a good start, which gave it an unfair advantage, and being propelled by two vigorous MEN, obeying an instinctive impulse to escape from an impending danger, kept about the same distance ahead. They steered for Long Wharf the nearest route to TERRA FIRMA passed the steps on the north side, and pulled alongside a schooner which was lying near the T, clambered to her decks, leaving the boat to her fate, nimbly leaped ashore, took to their heels, and commenced a race up the wharf as if the avenger of blood was upon their tracks!
Stetson steered the boat directly for the steps, up which he hastily ascended, and ordered me to follow. As we rounded the corner of the adjoining store, we beheld the fugitives leaving us at a pace which no sailor could expect to equal. The man who had particularly excited the wrath of the mate took the lead, and cut a conspicuous figure with his single coat-tail sticking out behind him horizontally like the leg of a loon!
The mate, seeing the hopelessness of further pursuit, suddenly stopped, and contented himself with shaking his cudgel at the runaways, and muttering between his teeth, "Run, you blackguards, run!"
And run they did, until they turned down India Street, and were lost to sight.
In a day or two after the occurrence above described, the ship Packet started on her voyage to Liverpool. She was a noble ship, well found and furnished in every respect, and, setting aside the uncertain temper and eccentricities of the chief mate, well officered and manned.
When we passed Boston light house with a fresh northerly breeze, one clear and cold morning towards the close of November, in the year 1811, bound on a voyage of several years' duration, I experienced no regret at leaving my home and native land, and had no misgiving in regard to the future. My spirits rose as the majestic dome of the State House diminished in the distance; my heart bounded with hope as we entered the waters of Massachusetts Bay. I felt that the path I was destined to travel, although perhaps a rugged one, would be a straight and successful one, and if not entirely free from thorns, would be liberally sprinkled with flowers.
It is wisely ordered by a benignant Providence that man, notwithstanding his eager desire to know the secrets of futurity, can never penetrate those mysteries. In some cases, could he know the changes which would take place in his condition, the misfortunes he would experience, the miseries he would undergo, in the lapse of only a few short years, or perhaps months, he would shrink like a coward from the conflict, and yield himself up to despair.
I could not long indulge in vagaries of the imagination. In a few hours the wind hauled into the north-east, and a short head sea rendered the ship exceedingly uneasy. While busily employed in various duties I felt an uncomfortable sensation pervading every part of my system. My head grew dizzy and my limbs grew weak; I found, to my utter confusion, that I WAS SEASICK! I had hardly made the humiliating discovery, when the boatswain hoarsely issued the unwelcome order, "Lay aloft, lads, and send down the royal yards and masts!"
My pride would not allow me to shrink from my duty, and especially a duty like this, which belonged to light hands. And while I heartily wished the masts and yards, which added so much to the beauty of the ship, and of which I was so proud in port, fifty fathoms beneath the keelson, I hastened with my wonted alacrity aloft, and commenced the work of sending down the main-royal yard.
Seasickness is an unwelcome malady at best. It not only deprives a person of all buoyancy of spirit, but plunges him headlong into the gulf of despondency. His only desire is to remain quiet; to stir neither limb nor muscle; to lounge or lie down and muse on his unhappy destiny. If he is urged by a sense of duty to arouse himself from this stupor, and occupy himself with labors and cares while weighed down by the heavy load, his condition, although it may command little sympathy from his companions, is truly pitiable.
In my particular case, feeling compelled to mount aloft, and attain that "bad eminence," the main-royal mast head, while the slender spar was whipping backwards and forwards with every plunge of the ship into a heavy head sea, and the visible effect produced by every vibration causing me to fear an inverted position of my whole internal system, no one can imagine the extent of my sufferings. They were of a nature that Dante would eagerly have pounced upon to add to the horrors of his Inferno. I felt at times willing to quit my feeble hold of a backstay or shroud, and seek repose by diving into the briny billows beneath. If I had paused for a moment in my work I should, undoubtedly, have failed in its accomplishment. But Stetson's eye was upon me; his voice was heard at times calling out "Main-royal mast head, there! Bear a hand, and send down that mast! Why don't you bear a hand!"
To this reminder, making a desperate exertion, I promptly replied, in a spirited tone, "Ay, ay, sir!"
Diligence was the watchword, and it acted as my preserver.
It often happens that a crew, composed wholly or in part of old sailors, will make an experiment on the temper and character of the officers at the commencement of the voyage. When this is the case, the first night after leaving port will decide the question whether the officers or the men will have command of the ship. If the officers are not firm and peremptory; if they are deficient in nerve, and fail to rebuke, in a prompt and decided manner, aught bordering on insolence or insubordination in the outset, farewell to discipline, to good order and harmony, for the remainder of the passage.
Captain Bacon was a man of slight figure, gentlemanly exterior, and pleasant countenance. Although his appearance commanded respect, it was not calculated to inspire awe; and few would have supposed that beneath his quiet physiognomy and benevolent cast of features were concealed a fund of energy and determination of character which could carry him safely through difficulty and danger.
Mr. Bachelder, the second mate, was a young man of intelligence, familiar with his duties, and blessed with kind and generous feelings. Unlike Stetson, he was neither a blackguard nor a bully. After some little consultation among the old sailors who composed the starboard watch, it was thought advisable to begin with him, and ascertain if there was any GRIT in his composition.
It was about six bells eleven o'clock at night when the wind hauling to the north-west, Mr. Bachelder called out, "Forward there! Lay aft and take a pull of the weather braces."
One of the men, a smart active fellow, who went by the name of Jack Robinson, and had been an unsuccessful candidate for the office of boatswain, replied in a loud and distinct tone, "Ay, ay!"
This was agreed on as the test. I knew the crisis had come, and awaited with painful anxiety the result.
Mr. Bachelder rushed forward into the midst of the group near the end of the windlass.
"Who said, 'Ay, ay'?" he inquired, in an angry tone.
"I did," replied Robinson.
"YOU did! Don't you know how to reply to an officer in a proper manner?"
"How SHOULD I reply?" said Robinson, doggedly.
"Say 'Ay, ay, SIR,' when you reply to me," cried Bachelder, in a tone of thunder at the same time seizing him by the collar and giving him a shake "and," continued he, "don't undertake to cut any of your shines here, my lad! If you do, you will be glad to die the death of a miserable dog. Lay aft, men, and round in the weather braces!"
"Ay, ay, sir! Ay, ay, sir!" was the respectful response from every side.
The yards were trimmed to the breeze, and when the watch gathered again on the forecastle it was unanimously voted that IT WOULD NOT DO!
Notwithstanding the decided result of the experiment with the second mate, one of the men belonging to the larboard watch, named Allen, determined to try conclusions with the captain and chief mate, and ascertain how far they would allow the strict rules of discipline on shipboard to be infringed. Allen was a powerful fellow, of huge proportions, and tolerably good features, which, however, were overshadowed by a truculent expression. Although of a daring disposition, and unused to subordination, having served for several years in ships engaged in the African slave trade, the nursery of pirates and desperadoes, he showed but little wisdom in trying the patience of Stetson.
On the second night after leaving port, the ship being under double-reefed topsails, the watch was summoned aft to execute some duty. The captain was on deck, and casually remarked to the mate, "It blows hard, Mr. Stetson; we may have a regular gale before morning!"
Allen at that moment was passing along to WINDWARD of the captain and mate. He stopped, and before Stetson could reply, said in a tone of insolent familiarity, "Yes, it blows hard, and will blow harder yet! Well, who cares? Let it blow and be ______!"
Captain Bacon seemed utterly astonished at the impudence of the man; but Stetson, who was equally prompt and energetic on all occasions, and who divined the object that Allen had in view, in lieu of a civil rejoinder dealt him a blow on the left temple, which sent him with violence against the bulwarks. Allen recovered himself, however, and sprang on the mate like a tiger, clasped him in his sinewy embrace, and called upon his watchmates for assistance.
As Stetson and Allen were both powerful men it is uncertain what would have been the result had Stetson fought the battle single-handed. The men looked on, waiting the result, but without daring to interfere. Not so the captain. When he saw Allen attack the mate, he seized a belaying pin, that was loose in the fife-rail, and watching his opportunity, gave the refractory sailor two or three smart raps over the head and face, which embarrassed him amazingly, caused him to release his grasp on the mate, and felled him to the deck!
The mate then took a stout rope's end and threshed him until he roared for mercy. The fellow was terribly punished and staggered forward, followed by a volley of threats and anathemas.
But the matter did not end here. At twelve o'clock Allen went below, and was loud in his complaints of the barbarous manner in which he had been treated. He swore revenge, and said he would lay a plan to get the mate into the forecastle, and then square all accounts. Robinson and another of the starboard watch, having no idea that Stetson could be enticed below, approved of the suggestion, and intimated that they would lend him a hand if necessary. They did not KNOW Stetson!
When the watch was called at four o'clock Allen did not make his appearance. In about half an hour the voice of Stetson was heard at the forescuttle ordering him on deck.
"Ay, ay, sir," said Allen, "I am coming directly."
"You had better do so," said the mate, "if you know when you are well off."
"Ay, ay, sir!"
Allen was sitting on a chest, dressed, but did not move. I was lying in my berth attentive to the proceedings, as, I believe were all my watchmates. In about a quarter of an hour Stetson took another look down the scuttle, and bellowed out, "Allen, are you coming on deck or not?"
"Ay, ay, sir; directly!"
"If I have to go down after you, my good fellow, it will be worse for you, that's all."
Allen remained sitting on the chest. Day began to break. Stetson was again heard at the entrance of the forecastle. His patience, of which he had not a large stock, was exhausted.
"Come on deck, this instant, you lazy, lounging, big-shouldered renegade! Will you let other people do your work? Show your broken head and your lovely battered features on deck at once in the twinkling of a handspike. I want to see how you look after your frolic!"
"Ay, ay, sir! I'm coming right up."
"You lie, you rascal. You don't mean to come! But I'll soon settle the question whether you are to have your way in this ship or I am to have mine!"
Saying this, Stetson descended the steps which led into the habitation of the sailors. In doing this, under the peculiar circumstances, he gave a striking proof of his fearless character. He had reason to anticipate a desperate resistance from Allen, while some of the sailors might also be ready to take part with their shipmate, if they saw him overmatched; and in that dark and close apartment, where no features could be clearly distinguished, he would be likely to receive exceedingly rough treatment.
Stetson, however, was a man who seldom calculated consequences in cases of this kind. He may have been armed, but he made no display of other weapons than his brawny fist. He seized Allen by the collar with a vigorous grasp. "You scoundrel," said he, "what do you mean by this conduct? Go on deck and attend to your duty! On deck, I say! Up with you, at once!"
Allen at first held back, hoping that some of his shipmates would come to his aid, as they partly promised; but not a man stirred, greatly to his disappointment and disgust. They, doubtless, felt it might be unsafe to engage in the quarrels of others; and Allen, after receiving a few gentle reminders from the mate in the shape of clips on the side of his head and punches among the short ribs, preceded the mate on deck. He was conquered.
The weather was cold and cheerless; the wind was blowing heavy; the rain was falling fast; and Allen, who had few clothes, was thinly clad; but he was sent aloft in an exposed situation, and kept there through the greater part of the day. His battered head, his cut face, his swollen features, and his gory locks told the tale of his punishment. Stetson had no magnanimity in his composition. He cherished a grudge against that man to the end of the passage, and lost no opportunity to indulge his hatred and vindictiveness.
"Never mind," said Allen, one day, when sent on some useless mission in the vicinity of the knight-heads, while the ship was plunging violently, and sending cataracts of salt water over the bowsprit at every dive; "never mind, it will be only for a single passage."
"I know that," said Stetson, with an oath; "and I will take good care to 'work you up' well during the passage." And he was as good as his word.
The mate of a ship, especially when the captain is inactive, is not properly acquainted with his duties, or is disposed to let him pursue his own course, is vested with great authority. He has it in his power to contribute to the comfort of the men, and establish that good understanding between the cabin and the forecastle which should ever reign in a merchant ship. But it sometimes, unfortunately, happens that the officers of a ship are men of amazingly little souls; deficient in manliness of character, illiberal in their sentiments, and jealous of their authority; and although but little deserving the respect of good men, are rigorous in exacting it. Such men are easily offended, take umbrage at trifles, and are unforgiving in their resentments. While they have power to annoy or punish an individual from whom they have received real or fancied injuries, they do not hesitate to exercise it.
Every seafaring man, of large experience, has often witnessed the unpleasant consequences of these old grudges, of this system of punishing a ship's company, by petty annoyances and unceasing hard work for some trifling misconduct on the part of one or more of the crew during the early part of the voyage. A master of a ship must be aware that the interest of all parties will be promoted by harmony on shipboard, which encourages the sailors to perform faithfully their manifold duties. Therefore, a good shipmaster will not only be firm, and decided, and just, and gentlemanly himself towards his crew, but he will promptly interfere to prevent unjust and tyrannical conduct on the part of his officers, when they are inexperienced or of a vindictive disposition.
When a man is insolent or insubordinate, the punishment or rebuke, if any is intended, SHOULD BE PROMPTLY ADMINISTERED. The account against him should not be entered on the books, but balanced on the spot. Whatever is his due should be paid off to the last stiver, and there the matter should end, never to be again agitated, or even referred to. This system of petty tyranny, this "working up" of a whole ship's company, or a single individual, in order to gratify a vindictive and unforgiving spirit, has been the cause of a deal of trouble and unhappiness, and has furnished materials in abundance for "men learned in the law."
Sailors are not stocks and stones. Few of them are so low and degraded as not to be able to distinguish the right from the wrong. They are aware of the importance of discipline, and know they must submit to its restraints, and render prompt obedience to orders from their superiors, without question; yet few of them are so deeply imbued with the meek spirit of Christianity as to forego remonstrance to injustice or resistance to tyranny.
The Packet proved to be a fast-sailing ship. The log often indicated ten, eleven, and eleven and a half knots. We had a quick but rough passage across the Atlantic, and frequently took on board a much larger quantity of salt water than was agreeable to those who had berths in her bows. In four days after leaving Boston we reached the Banks of Newfoundland; in eighteen days, we struck soundings off Cape Clear; and in twenty-one days, let go our anchor in the River Mersey.