“They don’t want Englishmen; it’s Dutchmen they take,” shouted two or three voices.
“Here’s a man,” called out some one, pointing into the left of the crowd, “who’s been walking this yard for five months.”
“Five months, as true as the words I use is English,” bawled a hoarse voice. “But they won’t have me because my name’s Johnson. If it was Unks von Dunks I’d ha’ been woyaging o’er and o’er again in the time I’ve been kicking my heels about starving here.”
“Scoffen von Romp would do as well,” said a man near me. “Don’t matter what the name is so long as it sounds Dutch.”
“By Dutch I suppose you mean foreigners of all kinds?” said I.
“Ay, they’re all Dutchmen!” was the shout.
“But why is it that Dutchmen are preferred to Englishmen?” I asked.
The hubbub raised by this obliged me to hold up my hand and entreat silence; but it would not do. Every man’s mind was full of the grievance, and, amid the chorus of replies, I barely succeeded in catching such answers as—“Dutchmen’ll ship for two pound a month!” “Dutchmen’ll eat anything!” “Englishmen won’t put up with the messes Dutchmen’ll swallow!” “Skippers can rope’s-end Dutchmen, but they durs’n’t serve Englishmen so!” “It’s the Dutch crimps as does it!” and so forth.
It was difficult to hear these cries and watch the sea of surging heads and faces around me with unmoved gravity. There was something to touch the very dullest capacity of appreciating the ridiculous in the astonishing contrasts of physiognomies, and in the multifarious expressions which adorned the poor fellows’ countenances; but I am not sure that the appeal made to my laughter did not owe much of its force to the sorrowful element in it—to a quality of pathos lying close to humour. Many of these faces had a pinched look, that was painfully expressive of want, if not of positive starvation; and sad indeed, it seemed to me, was the sight of it in men who carried the manners of real seamen, and who appeared to me to be fit for any forecastle afloat, and for any duty that a sailor is expected to understand.
“I suppose you all come here with certificates of conduct in your pockets?” said I, when the hubbub had ceased.