Then there were Spaniards, Portuguese, Chinamen, Frenchmen, Africans, Russians, and Italians from the general merchant service, many of whom were excellent seamen and some of whom were not; and lastly came the men of various nationalities who were not sailors at all nor the stuff out of which sailors could be made, and who had no business to be before the mast on board of a ship. Many of these men had served their time in the penitentiary and some should have remained there. These impostors increased the labor of able seamen who were compelled to do their work, and endangered the safety of the ship so unfortunate as to have them among her crew.
With such barbarians the New England captains from the yellow sands of Cape Cod and the little seaports along the Sound, and from the rocky headlands of Cape Ann and the coast of Maine, were often called upon to handle the clipper ships. There were, as has been said, a large number of respectable, hard-working, Scandinavian sailors, some of whom became captains and mates, as well as from four to eight smart American boys aboard each ship who looked forward to becoming officers and captains.
The clipper ship captains had the reputation of being severe men with their crews, but considering the kind of human beings with whom they had to deal, it is difficult to see how they could have been anything else, and still retain command of their ships. Taken as a class, American sea-captains and mates half a century ago were perhaps the finest body of real sailors that the world has ever seen, and by this is meant captains and officers who had themselves sailed before the mast. They enforced their authority by sheer power of character and will against overwhelming odds of brute force, often among cut-throats and desperadoes. They were the first to establish discipline in the merchant service, and their ships were the envy and despair of merchants and captains of other nations. Intrepid and self-reliant sailors, they are justly entitled to the gratitude of mankind. No doubt there were instances of unnecessary severity on board the American clipper ships; they were exceptional, and the provocation was great; but it would be difficult to cite a case of a sailor being ill-used who knew and performed the duties for which he had shipped, for captains and officers appreciated the value of good seamen, and took the best care of them.
The abuses from which sailors in those days suffered, were not when at sea or on board ship. It was the harpies of the land who lay in wait like vultures, to pollute and destroy their bodies and souls—male and female land-sharks, who would plunder and rob a sailor of his pay and his three months’ advance, and then turn him adrift without money or clothes. It made no difference to these brazen-hearted thieves—and the women, if possible, were worse than the men—whether a sailor was bound round the Horn in midwinter or to the East Indies in midsummer; they saw to it that he took nothing away with him but the ragged clothes he stood in, and perhaps a ramshackle old sea chest with a shabby suit of oilskins, a pair of leaky sea boots, a bottle or two of Jersey lightning, and two or three plugs of tobacco chucked into it. These vice-hardened men and women of various nationalities were permitted to work their abominable trade unmolested, almost within the shadow of church spires and Courts of Justice in the chief seaports of the United States. The destitute condition in which men were put on board of American ships became so common that clothing and other necessaries were provided for them in what was known as the slop chest, in charge of the steward, with which all ships bound upon distant voyages were supplied, and from which the crew received whatever they required at about one half the cost extorted by the slop shops on shore. This arrangement was necessary, as otherwise, in many instances, the men would not have had sufficient clothing to stand a watch in cold or stormy weather.
American sea-captains were often compelled to take these outcasts as they found them, because they could get no other men. They provided them with better food than they had ever seen or heard of on board vessels of their own countries, supplied them with clothes, sea boots, sou’westers, oilskins, and tobacco, restored them to health, paid them money which many of them never earned, and for the time being, at least, did their utmost to make men of them. If any one imagines that this class of sailors ever felt or expressed the least gratitude toward their benefactors, he is much mistaken. Let him picture to himself these creatures in their watch below, laying off in their frowzy berths or sitting around their dirty, unkempt forecastle on their chests—those who happen to own them—smoking their filthy clay pipes, amid clouds of foul tobacco smoke, reeking in the stench of musty underclothing, mouldy sea boots, and rancid oilskins, rank enough to turn the stomach of a camel, or any other animal than man. The noxious air is too much for the sooty slush lamp that swings uneasily against the grimy bulkhead; it burns a sickly blue flame with a halo of fetid vapor; while the big fat-witted samples of humanity in the bunks and on the sea chests cheerfully curse their captain up-hill and down dale as their natural enemy, but are never tired of yarning about their “shore friends.â€� They recall the attractive qualities of such characters as Dutch Pete, One-thumbed Jerry, and Limerick Mike—sleek, smooth-tongued boarding-house runners who have practised upon the vices of these same men, robbed them of their advance wages, drugged and shanghaied them without clothing or tobacco. Then these stupid fellows will yarn about the enticing charms of such “real ladiesâ€� as Big Moll, Swivel-eyed Sue, or French Kate, and the comfort and hospitality of the establishments over which these hussies preside. But let the boatswain come along and knock three times on the forecastle door with his brawny fist, and sing out, “Now then, get out here and put the stun’sails on her,â€� and these hulky brutes will tumble over each other to get on deck, for they know that they will be beaten and booted if there is any hanging back.
Unfortunately, this was the only way to deal with this type of men on shipboard. They were amenable to discipline only in the form of force in heavy and frequent doses, the theories of those who have never commanded ships or had experience in handling degenerates at sea to the contrary notwithstanding. To talk about the exercise of kindness or moral suasion with such men, would be the limit of foolishness; one might as well propose a kindergarten for baby coyotes or young rattlesnakes.
One does not like to dwell upon these depressing phases of human nature in connection with the graceful, yacht-like clipper, perhaps the most beautiful and life-like thing ever fashioned by the hand of man. It is therefore pleasant to record that there were many American clipper ships with crews that were for the most part decent, self-respecting men, who kept themselves, their clothes, and their forecastles clean and sweet. Of course, these men would have their grog and sweethearts on shore, and their quiet growl at sea—the birthright of all good sailormen; but they required no urging beyond a word of encouragement to do their work on deck and aloft quickly and well. Such a crew would not live with men who were unclean in their speech and habits, and would compel such human nuisances to pick up their traps and take themselves out under the topgallant forecastle to get along as best they might; but it was a great hardship when good seamen found themselves among a crew composed chiefly of these poor enough sailors but proficient blackguards and bullies.
In those days there was a class of persons who did their utmost to degrade an honorable profession by calling themselves lawyers. The ports of New York and San Francisco were the scenes of their most lucrative exploits. When a ship arrived, these fellows would waylay the sailors and follow them to dance-halls, gin-mills, and other low resorts, worming their way into the confidence of the too easy mariners by fairy tales and glittering prospects of large sums of money to be recovered as damages from their late captains, until they succeeded in extracting a narrative of the last voyage, including alleged grievances. They would then libel the ship and commence legal proceedings against the captain and officers. These cases would be tried before juries of landsmen who, having no practical knowledge of sailors or of the usages of the sea, frequently awarded damages, though in many cases the captain and officers were able to disprove false complaints or to justify their actions upon the ground of necessity in maintaining proper discipline. It is perhaps needless to say that of the damages recovered not one penny was ever handled by the aggrieved sailor, for the guiding principle of the sea lawyer’s career being the resolve never to part with his client’s money, these fellows literally made their clients’ interests their own. Sailors themselves used to laugh and joke about the bare-faced yarns which they had spun under oath in court and got greenhorn juries to listen to and believe; but they did not laugh and joke about their lawyers, whom they regarded with contempt. One of the most insulting epithets which a sailor could apply to another was to call him a “sea lawyer,� and there
David S. Babcock George Lane